To My Love, Amir.

I’m suffocating.

I see my brothers and sisters dying for no reason, and it guts me.

Driving while black,

Sleeping while black,

Eating while black,

Talking while black,

Laughing while black,

Dancing while black,

Learning while black,

and the lists goes on.

There is no justice for me,

No peace for me.

Even though they tell me there will be.

Be what?

More pain?

More suffering?

I’m so used to physical pain,

I don’t know how to exist in a realm of sane.

This plague on my brain….

Yet I can’t complain.

Not supposed to anyway.

I’m just supposed to sway in the distance,

not be resistant,

be tolerant and coexistent.

Tell that to the people that oppress me.

That try to steal the light from under me.

I want to yell like a banshee,

but I have to be still, sit and grin with quiet glee.

It’s the American way they say.

American being white.

The white way.

Because that’s the right way.

To point out all the faults within this system would be unpatriotic.

But how can that be? At least for me?

My people worked these streets,

and built these buildings hoping one day they’d get a chance to truly see!

The need to return home is prevalent,

It is making me more than malevolent.

Oh to waddle in the dark night.

I straddle the fence of what is wrong, and right.

Ohhhhh, to be wrong for just one night.

-N

There’s No Oxygen In The Room

No one understands me.
I’m pretending.

I’m not sure who I am.

I’m not sure you’ll like who you really see.

I’m not sure I can freely be me.

My heart hurts.

My chest burns.

I have no relief.

I can’t seem to see straight.

The weight of the world is on my shoulders.

I have no relief.

I can’t tell the truth.

It won’t set me free.

My body is tired.

I know no other option.

I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I don’t know what I hope to accomplish with this.

Maybe my pain can give someone else comfort.

A moment of bliss.

My truth is I cannot tell it.

I hate myself.

I hate my thoughts.

My wants, and desires, and hope,

It’s been stripped from me.

Yet I have to be strong.

Always strong.

I cry at night and in the dark.

So that in the day I’m light and full of false snark.

 

-NR

Juste Une Petite Catastrophe

I don’t like being torn.

I say yes, but I don’t mean it.

I say no, but eyes say otherwise.

It’s not fair.

Making you out to be a mind reader.

But it’s what I want.

I need for you to decide.

I need you to tell me otherwise.

Pouvez-vous voir ce que mon desir ardent pour moi me fait?

Say you’ll stay even when I scream at you to go.

Say yes even when I sound bitter and tell you no.

I’m a small disaster you see.

I don’t I’ll ever just be.