There is no space for you in this regime
I had thought once and for all that I might truly be queen
but now I am forced to share my throne with a beast

now only the silence meets my screams
it sits me down for a meal that I must eat
my throne at the end of the table no longer my seat

the hand of night seldom brings
the rest and beauty of the now lost dream
my mind is only sieged in sleep

nothing I say will bring me peace
saving, no longer, can be decreed
not as long as you can speak

and as I weep
for your feet are those of a thief
yet you are not the one to flee
you have made your story one to believe

no, no, you are not welcome in this regime
there is only one crown and only one queen

In my religion we're taught that every living thing, every leaf, every bird, is only alive because it contains the secret word for life. That's the only difference between us and a lump of clay. A word. Words are life, Liesel.

- Max to Liesel in Markus Zusak’s *The Book Thief

We cannot walk with Dostoyevsky as
Guards drag him chained before a firing squad
Comfort Saint Joan against the English flames
Or pray with good Saint Thomas in his cell

We cannot slosh through sodden trenches in France
With Lieutenant Lewis on his birthday
Argue with Akhmatova at The Stray Dog
Or with Frankl at Auschwitz bury dead friends

Unless we read, and then through words we see
The morning sun upon Byzantium

Gone,
Gone the man who came before,
Who knew to stay safe on the shore.
He went too deep into the surf,
And drifted away,
And now he’s hurt.

Gone,
Gone the creature who used to sing
Songs in the dark to a shadow bell’s ring.
Its melody’s gone sweetly stale.
Cold as night’s wind,
A truly sad tale.

Gone,
Gone the one who was the greatest.
The one who was saved by this the latest.
The latest of thieves to steal from the wrong.
But now they’re all gone.
Where have they gone?

Gone,
Gone the man who became the greatest creature.
Saved by thief’s song at the shore as a feature.
He knew what he was doing,
But he was wrong.
Now he’s all gone.

I want to feel beautiful.
To feel confident
To feel loved
To feel beautiful.

Who stole my beautiful?
Where did it go?
It was just here...

But then someone pointed out how fat I am.
They noticed my acne
and my mom jeans.
They asked if I had ever had a boyfriend,
And laughed when I shook my head no.
They told me I was the reason there were waves in the pool
And told me my swimsuit was ugly.
They said my hair was greasy
And I kind of smelled.
They asked why I had to shop at Catherine's
And why not Aeropostale.

They stole my beautiful.
And they weren't even sorry.

They STOLE it.
Stealing is a crime,
But not when it comes to ****** 8 year olds
Who think it's okay to hurt others.
Not when it comes to shady friends who say they can bring these things up,
"Because we're friends."
Not when it comes to judgmental family memebers
Who don't know what it's like to wear size 16 jeans.
(Actually, 18...)
(I'm embarrassed.)

Nobody stops these people from stealing.
From stealing the beautiful from
A 10 year old who already knows the worst,
But she's choosing to be confident anyway.
A 13 year old who's unloved by others,
But she's still trying so ******* hard to love herself.
A 16 year old weighing 250 pounds,
But she's exercising through the depression.
A 17 year old bent over the toilet,
Trying to lose the weight you told her was ugly,
And trying to find the beautiful you should have told her about instead.

But they stole my beautiful.
The beautiful that got me through every day.
The beautiful that reminded me size doesn't matter.
The beautiful that belongs to me.
The beautiful you took.
Like there was some kind of limited supply or something.
Like mine deserved to be stolen.
Yeah, you took that kind of beautiful.

And you left an even greater treasure behind.

Most everyone understands,
the many cultures of human
violence; even sadder, is
the reluctant acceptance…
of evil. Veils of darkness
will hide the return of One,
as a thief… in the night.
  
Panic will erupt, as hands
are raised in fear; people
will be seeking answers, as
concerns of peace and safety
are gone. Missing Christians
from around this World, will
spark new debates; His Light
  
may scare the hell of those…
left behind; soon others will
realize the implications of a
mass exodus of believers and
the crisis of Faith; they’ll
have to reevaluate their weak
positions regarding God. Can
  
they now overcome sin? Clothes
will be torn in anguish, as the
pressure of Faith increases.
Will some find comfort, knowing
that may be killed for new Faith
or will they remain steadfast…
in their, ongoing lust for Man?

i witnessed a burglary today.

kids were seating at the back side of the jeepney
***** feet hanging,
snot running down their noses
the one beside me says,
“these kids will be thieves one day.”
and i look at these
little mud-eyed ones
filled with silent anger
and confusion.

if this is how we cast them
how could they change something
that was molded in stone for them?

we are responsible for the next generation
and yet we rob these children
a chance to create their own identity
and blame them for things
we should’ve
done
something
about.