Wanna be an all American!
As my corpse tries to jump out of it's dead brown skin
The fair foundation has been working again
Our experiences have been exactly the same!
Hearing your hesitancy in the pronunciation of this name
roll it out like the Princess Bride- all the words every time
Reinforcing this breath I will be the punchline but
Can you cry a god back into your heart
Rolling like thunder behind your own title
Whisper it back and then still be rid of the shame?
Decolonize a spirit with  Raid™️
Keep only one tongue and let the other one fade

I held my keys to my side as I walked home tonight
Let out wails and cried by the schoolyard
All I could think about was the way the clasps of your heavy leather jacket clanked against each other next to me
It's an image so vivid and familiar
I could probably tell you all the lines on your palms based solely by the many times I have felt them in mine.

Am I mistaken?
You put my body above my face.again.
My anatomy does not keep me from my autonomy.
Objectifying your own daughter and constantly telling her she better run.
Meanwhile expecting nothing from the son. Teaching nothing to the son. Boys,darling. Boys will be boys.
"Have a nice day at work,honey today you might get shoved into that van."
I find myself flinching when joggers come to close.
There was never that plausibility of consent.
Don't let anyone touch you. Never ever let anyone touch you.
Your virtue will have dissapaited into the ether.
I will be ugly.
I was 15 when I let a boy touch my breast.
I cried for 3 days.
When allowances had shifted I had found myself more vulnerable.
But I always was more vulnerable.
Ready to decay at a young age through a impotent sense of resistance.
Be ******. Spit. Clench your fists. Smoke your cigarettes. Wear big boots. Dont look soft because they might think you feel it too. I thought i would catch fire i thought i would die
Especially when it seems so real.  
This culture of predatory vultures looking to the elipses that make a chest. Nothing about my life has ever told me that I was allowed to feel safe. That it was okay, to permit a lover to trace my sillhoute with fingers crowned by tiny nails chewed up from a similar confused and scathing perception of the universe. In this house I was never told that I would find someone who I might feel love towards,or that anyone could entertain the thought. It seems as if you would rather I be taken
And kidnapped
Then ever give myself away.
Just so you would know i always have to stay.

There is no feigning love
Only a light switch little boys toggle in a big room lined with the belongings of the ones who left it last
Tents made from the frayed and bleached garments of playmates who had to return home for supper,but not before changing the light bulb.
That is not the fear, foundations made of bone covered in soot from flames whispered out with secrets
Nails jagged and loose and I can't afford repairs
Paper thin walls with dixie cups full of crayons

I tried so hard.
I had wanted to run you across the world
You curious squirrel!
I was nuts for you!
If only i hadn't grown up.
If only i were able to remain cynical.
I don't feel like i can keep you happy.
I have to carry the energy,its overwhelming.
If i complain about one thing,you breathe fire stomp your feet,call me callous and repeat

Look at the child with the rifle
She's posing for a photo
She just doesn't know what it means.
Give it three years, and she still won't know.
Except now her people,now her country have nowhere to go
She's 6 years old with an arms embargo
The country is suddenly three now
The people inside can't see,the people murdered along its beaches can't see.
The people washed ashore can't see.
Air strikes fall somewhere distant.
Militants front and center
Nothing else but to surrender
The country's identity is reduced to its language,their colors and the violence around them
Never did it experience serenity
Fully get the wealth from their oil and luxury
Nobody could guess that people could shake and shimmy along the beaches
Where the nameless faces appear,dreams dust in their open and clenched fists.

Look at the child with the rifle
She's posing for a photo
She just doesn't know what it means.
Give it three years, and she still won't know.
Except now her people,now her country have nowhere to go
She's 6 years old with an arms embargo
The country is suddenly three now
The people inside can't see,the people murdered along its beaches can't see.
The people washed ashore can't see.
Air strikes fall somewhere distant.
Militants front and center
Nothing else but to surrender
The country's identity is reduced to its language,their colors and the violence around them
Never did it experience serenity
Fully get the wealth from their oil and luxury
Nobody could guess that people could shake and shimmy along the beaches
Where the nameless faces appear,dreams dust in their open and clenched fists.