dear you

dear you,

there are so many things that i would love to say to you but that i always prevent myself from verbalizing. i try to set my pride aside in hopes that things like human decency and consideration and care for mankind will prevail but i suppose that is all too fantastical for the real world...especially since you always have something else in mind. well look you...i'm sorry that you feel that i am inadequate and several of the tasks that i perform each day. i am sorry that you feel like i take too much time and energy when i sit down to tackle matters from the office. furthermore, i am sorry that you don't like the closeness with which i pursue my friendships. it's not really something i can help. sometimes i feel like it is a gift and a curse. i care too much and i get hurt...but somehow it's always you who ends up frustrated and angry and it's always you who gets the sympathy and reaps the positive benefits in the end. go figure. i'm sorry that my schedule doesn't revolve around you. i know you would like for it to, as you feel you are the center of the universe sometimes...but it really can't. you see, i have several huge things going on in my life right now...my family is still mourning, my mother is most likely dying and still hates me but is too psychotic to show it everyday, my brother is going to be twenty years old in december and still doesn't have his life together or a life plan for that matter, my job is one huge disillusion, and my friends...well...you know how that is, don't you? you're one of them, right? in fact, you embody all of them? you are the friend that doesn't show when she is supposed to, you are the one that i reach to call when i am at my lowest point but doesn't pick up because she has better things to do, you are the one who leaves me stranded for hours before i find out you aren't showing simply because i finally picked up the phone, not you, and you are the one who talks about me being my back after asking me for a favor. well you...fuck you. fuck you for fucking me up. fuck you for fucking me up the way you always do, the way i let you, because you're you. you digust me. i know, i deserve it, right? that's why you fuck me over so often? that's why you have had me numb the last couple of weeks...until this post? numb is a weird not-feeling. it kind of leaves you stranded in dead space, staring, wishing, wondering, thinking...about blank. that's what it's like to feel numb. but you wouldn't know that feeling, would you? no. because you are always on top of the world. you live there, in your perfect bubble, where everything that goes wrong gets deflected onto me, right? it's funny. you know what really bugs me about you? it's that you never even think you've done anything wrong. you live in your world in your bubble and i know you know i am upset and hurting and you continue to exist peacefully, uninterrupted. maybe i wish i was you for that. but, unfortunately, i am not. occassionally, when i slip out of the numb state, i still feel. and i often feel this stinging pain. it creeps from my core through my soul and then stops at my heart right before it travels to my eyes where it makes its way out for all to see and shame me with. damn. the power you have. you get to do whatever you want, say whatever you want, have people dote on you whenever you want, without any return or consequence. wow. but i'm the bad guy. i'm the bad guy. that's what i've been told all of my life. i'm this big and bad and horrible person who comes into people's lives and does more harm than good, right? so why does god even keep me here? why shouldn't i just leave? what good am i? can you answer that for me? you seem to have all of the answers. at least that's what you want me to believe. truth is...i never like to hurt anyone. i have this love inside of me that i was always forced to keep silent. a love that i used to get yelled at and cursed at and sent to my room for showing. no emotion. no fear. no weakness. but that love still stayed. it still lived. and the tough exterior that i am pegged to have? it's just that. exterior. i'm soft to touch on the inside. all i have ever wanted were safe venues to express that love. i just want to love. i know what it was like to grow up never saying i love you until you were thirteen. thirteen. thirteen years old. thirteen years keeping that inside. if i've ever told you i loved you, i meant it. it isn't something i take lightly. but you trample on that every chance you get, don't you? sometimes i just want to see you, chill, talk to you, hear your voice, just to know that things aren't so bad. but you can't even do that. it's too difficult for you...and again, there's this whole schedule thing. i just don't fit in. well...i don't know if there is much i can do about that. i pray a lot. i find that it is relaxing and yet i still find myself searching. god does everything for a reason so i just want to know what the reason is for all of this. the one person to recently cry for me, to express her love for me unsolicited, to say she was proud of me...proud...died. is that a sign? please tell me so i can take it. tell me what it means. do you know? you think you're god, so you should. humans should be so lucky. well i don't want to waste anymore of your time that is so clearly a hassle for you to spend on me most of the time. i'm sure to end my letter to you this way will seem weak but it's truly how i feel and what is at the forefront of my brain right now...

i still love you...it just hurts when i realize it.

"accident" and "lift every voice"

accident

do you really think today is an accident?
methodical madness
distributed by the tall men in suit jackets
made to trap the blacks and other coloreds back in triangular trade maps
contemporary colonialism concocted on cushy cruise ships
operated by so-called misfits who aren't quick-witted enough to get lifted?
crafted by the minds of those too insecure to eliminate those different from them?
diversity digs deep at the core of this mentality that only gets sidetracked by the remembrance of humanity
dedication to division that seeks to reaffirm certain historical inequities between you and me
and him and i
mutual ties to the land do not mitigate ingrained stereotypes in the mind's eye
but it's an accident?
not something hatched in the white house basement?
coveted as if in encasement?
screw 'their' enragement
we will continue engagement with this
accident?
hell-sent
meant to harp on the inherent frustrations of those on the recieving end
and then
through coersive doctrine
it becomes apparent
that this 'misfortune'
is no accident
but a plan mislabeled democracy.

--

lift every voice and sing
louder and prouder than the ones that came before
make sure that
scores and scores more of us make progressive noise
for OUR boys
do it to make earth and heaven ring bells of freedom that were muffled by ignorance
bells of
strength and solidarity
power and prestige
exemplifying a pristine knowledge of self
knowledge that rings with harmonies of
liberty and longevity
livelihood and lamprophony
let our rejoicing rise
as high as the listening skies
but make sure those on earth keep ears and eyes wide open
as it resounds loud as the rolling sea that
carried us here and wouldn't bring us back
strapped with bassinets to insure delivery of product
the same
rolling sea that stacked you and me and he and she on top of each other in an overcrowded bunker to maximize profit
well
fuck that sea and fuck that ship
the sea can roll away and roll that slaveship away with it
because now we

sing a song
full of the faith that the dark past has taught us
we
sing a song
full of the hope that the present has brought us
we
sing songs whose rhythms and words brought on stares from massa and got our ancestors kicked out of the big house even faster than the melodies could leave their lips
songs that caused whippings and warfare
paving the roads for underground airfare

facing the rising sun of our new day begun
one by one
not to outdone or
undone
by any one hired gun from our nation's favorite son
let us march on
till victory is won.

death

what is it like to watch someone die
lifeless laying lacking energy to speak
eating is a task for the weak who feel without
the same strength and provisions that were her only life mission
what is it like to watch someone die
to look straight into their eyes
and see the pain of their demise
to cry and cry and cry
and know that
in the end
her soul will simply have to rise
what is it like to watch someone die
to know that you are helpless
couldn't give her your own life if you tried
hands tied behind your back
that stares at the wall
tall and cold
behold the future
without her touch once more