8 days after
my birthday,
i couldn't breathe
as i took a
swim test
with my friends
and failed;
but that doesnt matter,
for now i know
that he couldn't breathe either.

justice for eric garner

every time I hear her name
I want to spit blood

and every time I see his face
I do

No, I don't write about you.

I'm writing letters on my body
All the things that I can't say
So when you find my body
You can finally get my way

Those words will be all the twilight has left
As the sun and the moon kiss the edge

I'm writing letters on my body
To tell and untold story
So when you see all those A's and O's
Please think of me when it snows

Those words will be all the ground has left
As the dirt covers up the message

I'm writing letters on my body
To draw you a map to rescue someone else

Nostalgic is the place!

The smell of burnt hair
The rumbling silence
The carpeted floor
The taste of dust
The furniture, all in plum

It is the forgotten place!**

Where she used to write
Where she used to weep
Where they revealed their cores
And where they uttered their goodbyes

The roses had wilt
The bridges we built
Shattered with blood and tears
Of antagonism and of our fears

Yet at midnight I caught myself
Half-awake collecting the ashes
Driven away by melancholy,
Shadows of your light abruptly vanishes

You, you are still on my memory
Vivid and colorful, I discern the hue
Of the all the photographs we never took
And the empty frames hanging by a hook