The twinkling stone
is what becomes most
desired~ A diamond,
a ring, a promise for
eternity~

Rare a love that does not
encompass fears of solitude,
Oh, the drills of society!
How it drills and drills
and drills into us.
How it perfects us and makes
us unflawed~ us, women,
how thankful we should
be for a life in the selfless
abyss.
Fear not, moments of
contained frenzy,
are left unheard~
For we live, trapped,
in an inescapable
labyrinth.

We aren't,
after all,
objects
you fit into
the shape of your
wants and needs or
whatever kind of life
you lead us
and you turn me
like a marvel
like a caveman
discovering
this light
and then you switch

I am not the type
I am not the end of the game
I am not the comfort

You seek.

Blue ink was no friend
Blue ink was the most boring plan
For the trees and hills Suzy ran
When Mama came with a stick in her hand

For months and years Suzy despaired
This forced acquaintance she wished to be spared
This Hulk of a character Mama'd personify
This waste of time, she knew not why

I just wanna be free, Suzy lamented
An uproarious laughter, with which she was greeted
Why do you act all so tormented, said this voice
Without blue ink, you will be mistreated

How do you carve a path of your own
How do you enforce a right you wouldn't have known
How do you right a wrong you don't condone
How do you condone life when left alone

To the books and pages Suzy ran
Devouring much material in the given span
In a solid colour, she saw a world of wonder
In its simple strokes, there was no more to be coaxed

In happiness and despair, Suzy was elevated
In health and sickness, she knew to be liberated
In company and solitude, Suzy was educated
In wealth and poverty, she knew she had profited

Blue ink had granted her the highest of privileges
For to live well, is to live with choice
A coveted privilege, with which we rejoice

I am not mad
I am raising my voice
To express how I feel about the things you do
But if you cannot comprehend the words spilling vividly
Or see my emotions painted on my face
Or my moving hands measuring my intensity
Then you assume I am mad

China Russia.
The west
I will say this through poetry
The vainnakh
The uyger, Turkish
And tibetans
We All have 46 chromesomes
Saying we are
As human
H u m a n like youu
So why can you accept us
As that
Human

I walk the line
Between
East and west
For I am
Turkic
And white
The people hate mme for that
I walk the line between
Love and racism
Because
Of terroristic stereotypes
That a laid on my peoples
For I am uyger
A human
Not a freaking terrorist

To my birth father
You are a
Freaking dirt bag
For not getting a
Job and leaving me to be
Tortured for two
Flipping years
Thanks a bunch
Deadbeat