I am broken,
Our love left unspoken.
I could ask,
but you would say
your love for me just went away.

You describe me as...
Pretty.
Black.
Funny.
Caring.
Mean.
Funny.
Feisty.
Mean.
Forehead.
Short.
Smart.
Black.
Funny.
Smart.
Trash-Talker.
Snake.
Nice.
Nerd.
Funny.
Inspiring.
Pretty.
Kind.
Enthusiastic.
Hot-headed.
Stubborn.
Loud.
Energetic.
I describe me as...
UNIQUE.

It was such a beautiful flower.
A flower that once was standing tall,
but is not anymore.
A flower that didn’t care what people said,
and would just follow as its heart-led.
A flower that didn’t like to be pushed around not even by the wind.
A flower that was so confident to do as it willed.
It was a flower that lived by a code to-’always be yourself.’
But now wonders, how to be who it doesn’t know itself.
"you are such a beautiful flower" it would say,
every night before it went a stray.

Dear Martin,
         So many years have passed and it breaks my heart to say that the oppression is still there. You'd think that in the years, the hate would have slowly died down, but sadly it seems to grow bigger, evolve, into a beast, a monster. Martin, I do not write to you to tell you that this war is still going on. I write to tell to that we've made progress. Broke stereotypes. moved mountains. Each day waking up choosing not to fight hate with hate.
    But Dr.King I wonder, I truly do wonder,
if they are so blind that they cannot see the pain they cause.
I wonder if I am naive to think
that all the movies and shows that portray the struggles that African Americans go through, will break them, make them show sympathy.
I wonder if they have wrapped their heart in so many layers of stone,
that no matter how many times the ocean hits the stone,
it will not be able to weather the stone away.
I wonder if someday,
'hate' will be too weak a word to describe how they feel,
or maybe just maybe it will instead become too heavy on their shoulders,
and they will have no choice but to let it go.
I wonder if people think this is God's doing,
cause Ma always tells me, whatever situation you find yourself,
good or bad,
believe the Lord will guide you through.
Do you believe in God Dr. King?
I do.
I believe that he will take pity on us,
on the brothers who have died,
on the mothers who have mourned,  
on the sisters who are mistreated,
on the fathers who are wrongfully convicted,
I believe he will take pity and end this war.
I believe in your dream, Dr. King,
and dreams do not die, they merely take time to manifest.
I have hope that it'll become a reality, and I hope you do too.
Sincerely.

How can one, in a moment, be so drunk on happiness and the next be drowning in a tsunami of sadness?

The deed done.
The feeling gone.
Guilt crawling in,
hatred grows within
for one's twin.
Truth before you,
promises shattered too.

The denotative meaning of tenderness is "gentleness and kindness"
To me tenderness is understanding  this person is sensitive and making sure that you don't, in anyway, hurt them.

It booms out of you,
loud and demanding.
It echoes in the room,
drawing me back to now.
Now, where you are laughing,
and though I don't know what provoked it,
I begin to laugh along with you.
A virus, so contagious,
the whole room joins in
laughing and laughing and laughing,
and soon, we become a room of laughter.
With all our worries gone,
we are not bound to earth,
like laughing granted us wings,
and we are flying high, high above the sky.
Oh, the joy that laughter brings me.