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Michelle May 2020
she cries in shattered glass,
in the open spaces where the dye was cast.
a world so white, so drenched in paint,
the ones now deaf once were saints.
and when the black came out to say
a counterfeit bill a jog a day-
light crime so bold so crazy
it made the streets hazy with smoke.
equality sounds a lot like a hoax
the war brushed away with nothing but Twitter
tear gas and bullets are so much fitter, bitter
is the taste of deafness upon a lost society.
abandoned, forgotten, stomped on and out
no wonder some have forgotten their law abiding piety.
white paint becomes pink
when mixed with blood.
pink is a color for little girls,
and fits perfectly with the sound of our world.
George. Ahmaud. Breonna. We love you. Rest in peace.
Michelle May 2020
Why can't we just sit,
and wait until this becomes a memory.
Why can't we just fit,
out thoughts into the mold of a history-

We created this.
We created the turmoil,
The sky and the clouds,
That make our blood boil.

We have forgotten the silence,
In which our hearts beat.

Just sit and wait.
And this will all become a memory.
Just sit and wait,
And we will all become a memory.
Sometimes, letting go is all there is.
Michelle May 2020
In the season of love and pandemia,
How would feel if I let you go.
Dear Lover, open arms and closed lips,
Please don't let me know.
If you leave me (don't dare),
I shall not love anymore.
Your love just doesn't compare,
In the season of love and pandemia,
How would it feel if I let you go?
I must be the one to let go.
To spare you suffering of choosing to stay.
Michelle May 2020
I missed
When you kissed me
I felt so far away,
You kissed me
and I forgot reason.
In the season of love and pandemia
I forgot my reason to love.
Such strange times we live in and a poem for them
Michelle May 2020
Come back to me,
so that I may love you even more.
So that I can show you the things,
I did not have before.
So that I,
Can show you a world,
Where I love myself.
I remember you with your back pressed up against a wall, crying. It was that simple realization that what is, isn't sustainable.
Michelle May 2020
I collect you words
Like the flower petals that fall
From the bride's hair.
O eternal circle
Hovering around the fourth finger
I only wanted to feel you
As you dissapeared.
Sometime, I feel like my heart is glass. Like it shattered many years ago, and I just cannot help myself but to run my fingers against all of the sharp edges. Why does it feel so good to bleed?
Michelle May 2020
the moment
that final moment
in the garage,
out in the end of summer sunshine.
forever only
lasts as long as one summer.
she hoped it wouldn't.
she hoped it wouldn't.
a teary eyed kiss,
and the promise to see eachother
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