my child

boy

immigrant child

what. are you thinking

what're yuh doin'

where yuh goin'

don't let them

hurt you, touch you, see you

beat you, tell you what you

can and can't do

be strong, young fella

know right from wrong

lil guy, be brave my sun

moon and ocean wide

love of mine

be kind

HALF ASS

The stallions
didn't want Miss Maree,
so she married a Jackass
and had a john mule.

A sorrel colored,
patient, hardy,
independent
smart half donkey.

102

you been in love?
me, 100 times
no OneHundredandTwo
ways, times, to listen to it
When It Hurts So Bad
The Miseducation of Lauren Hill
why does it feel so good
broken CD case pressed against my skin, again
i'm a cutter
shhh...hhiitt...ahhh
yes, i mark myself
102 times already
don't
please don't tell,
say anything
when it hurts so bad
why does it feel so good

him

afraid to live
afraid to dream
he's afraid to die.

he's afraid to die
but he wasn't present
when he had the chance,
wasn't respectful of life
didn't learn, evolve
afraid to love.

now
he's afraid to die.

C1 the nineties

combing the crowd
bodies, whole bodies
multitude of characters and shades
my eyes burn, delightfully
taking it all in
over there up the stairs this way that
around the corner in the light
on the stage, everywhere
it excites me
i'm a part of something
bespeaking
looks and attitudes, ready
am i cute
will someone approach
will i catch one

We March

We march today,
and every day.
Our feet bear no weight
as heavy our heart.
We speak for young voices
Silenced, shunned, ripped apart
We walk without tears
The river runs over;
cries gone before us.
We rise together
A million screams
we carry on our shoulders.
The cost too dare
Their anger we bare
We choose to live;
refuse to die.
At your hand
We demand to live
as you and I.
Our own brand
We march and sing
Let freedom ring
We assemble
in pain, love,
without fears.
We are weary,
but we march.
We never give
We march
We
deserve
to
live.
We
march.

da da O

i wanted u 2 b different
respectable o
but i learn u got dramas
baby mamas o
u daddy rich
so u's a biish
to the material game o
already mental scars
u got bars
but not musically
da da o

whatever this kinda thing is

I wish I could love you close

sorry
I can only love you from afar
if only you knew
this was meant for you
love means
never having to say you're
not sorry, I'm not sorry
because whatever this kinda thing is

that we got going
is the best kinda thing
I've had going
in a long time
and it feels so
goo_goo_
much closer
than I know
it is or can be
and I want you
to be
all right
with that
selfish...
I know
not
sorry
fiction 

(maybe)