The sunflowers I bought you
sat backlit by the window.
Their long stems
reflected into our small kitchen;
Every fallen petal played out
like a slow, sorrowful production
on how beautiful things often die.

I remember that last week and how
we had mapped out routes to avoid each other.
Our bodies that once pointed towards
one another like home,
now recalculated every way to avoid contact.

When our eyes involuntarily did meet
I would quickly begin to count
the dry, mustard yellow
blades on our kitchen table
until you were gone.

Till this day, every time I think of you,
I think of petals, and begin to count
until I can no longer feel the
enormous weight of your absence.

Baltimore is bleeding,
Boys in blue blind to faces,
War being raged over races,
Can't tell what this place is,
Blocks where I spent my sundays,
******* with police and gunplay,
Hood up to conceal my color,
Complexion passed down to me from mother,
Hard to find peace when the avenues erupting
Nothing seems to matter when you're fighting for something,
So please pray for this forest of concrete and lamp light,
Scared for the events that are coming after midnight

I Miss her
Its not that i want her

But i miss her
Because i only miss her

I'm happy
while talking with her in memories

But i'm not happy
when i think that i can talk only in memories

Though it is painful
Memories are better than real life..