I remember about my past.

my childhood.

it wasn’t good.

It was actually a nightmare.

dark

scary

sad.

I remember a time when I had freedom. Maybe

not freedom, but choices. I could

choose my friends. I could choose

what I wanted to wear. The freedom

to say no, when I didn’t want to do

something.

I lost my favorite cousin

he was at a gas station getting gas

with his daughter

and his daughter’s mother

and someone ran over

and shot him.

freedom’s important

I see very clearly now

the great open space

it’s not much to some people

but to me it’s...everything.

on vacation from myself-damaging life

dedicated to joetta

I care about u

just 2 let you know

cuz I don’t know how

much love I show

A strong black

newbian queen is what

I call you

Repent

As I sit and do this free write

The thoughts going through my head aren’t light

As I think back on my old action times of crisis

Thoughts of things past I would rather dismiss

As I realize I betrayed myself

My mom is like binoculars

She is always looking out for me

My dad is like a unicorn

I’ve never seen him

I have always wondered

what he looks like

If you fall head first

are you falling up?

or to the side?

or in between?

Can you feel heaven

and taste hell?

Can you reach in and pull out,

jump in and jump around?

If you exist but choose to be

It comes in all shapes and sizes

some cute couples,

some odd pairs...

we know who we are.

But despite the fact that commonly,

this world leads us to believe

that clash will always lead to

-conflict

Over the quivering surface of the stream,

The moon issued a silent scream.

The fog of war flowed silently adrift,

The pain of the night was silent and swift.

A moth fluttered in the silent breeze,

Surrounded by the scent of death and disease.

I walk outside

Everything seems so dark

Have only the stars

To give me light

Wind blows the grass

Makes the leaves dance

Swirls in my hair

Carries away my every care

And the stars

Twinkle down on me

Notorious Victoria,

Malicious Victoria,

Sweet kind and loving Victoria.

Multiple personalities,

An ongoing personification,

Can create,

In itself a problem,

Don’t you think,

Vic-tor-ia

Can you believe that? Absolutely impossible. The world ended three months ago. But if you think that’s why I’m in denial, you’re wrong.

I simply can’t believe that a guy like that can even exist...

I want to scramble away

I want to scream

I want to shout

I want to fight back

No...

No...

I need to scramble away

I need to scream

I need to shout

I need to fight back.

Or do I?

What is this nonsense that a school represents?

It teaches the ways of a trained money controlling society

I dwell in the essence of my mind knowing they don’t have me convinced

I’m an individual and I will not be another part of the variety

Hawk upon blue sky

Soaring above brook and spring

On the endless high

I want to touch a tree.

Not just any tree.

A tree with big green leaves.

I miss the shade trees

give on hot summer days.

The way they smelled, not

like a flower, just the

overall smell of nature.

I want to sit on

Sometimes when I sit in my room I think of home

I think of all the things I miss and how I’m alone

In all the loneliness I get consumed in sadness and fear

Then I feel the pain as I shed a tear

Sometimes when I’m in my room and I’m entrapped in silence

In real life things don’t have outlines.

The milkman used to come up this way,

Bringing us his creamy milk, and stories, back in the day.

A dusty train followed him, rising up into the sky,

His buggy drove low, but his spirits sang high.

In my mind, I still see his horse-drawn car,

“Within the surface of the fleeting river the wrinkled image of the city lay.” I stopped and observed this for some time deep in thought about how much I wanted a gas-powered sweater. Sadly, being a stand up comedian, I had little or no money.

The sky is bright

But the Stars are cold

Like eyes, they twinkle

Ancient and old

Looking down on the Earth far below

They watch and wait,

And what’s more, they know

They look down, older than time

Staring at me

Hearing the phantom calls of the organ,

And the soft murmur of the church choir,

Awakened from sleep with a feeling she couldn’t describe,

She got out of bed and followed it outside.

A careful mist lay over her small town, a light shield of protection.

A lonely man sits on the side of the road

He sings a song,

La, la, la.

He stops, silence.

Red, green, yellow, red, green, yellow

The light keeps turning

Over and over

But no one is in sight, besides the lonely man

Daring to yearn for freedom as

the doors of your prison open

the view of white death before you

all of your small hopes broken

standing in a door between hell’s

cold fingers brush your skin

beautiful death covers the hills

The horror, the brutality

eats away at my heart until I no longer

see the need to go on.

I bite my lip,

holding in the

rage,

the remorce

the screams

I want the world to hear.

but they won’t.

the water is still.

sitting on the dock, watching the horizon

I see

the bright orange, pink, yellow sky

with a mix of purple and blue

slowly fading away into darkness

The water spraying around me

The waves like endlessness enveloping me,

Surrounding me, smothering me

The hugeness of the ocean

Obscures my vision

Numbs my senses

Yet I feel the waves

Pounding, beating.

Have you ever awakened in the middle of the night? You look around and all your clocks are flashing. Blinking, on and off, on and off. You think to yourself, was it supposed to storm tonight? You decide the best way to find the solution is to check outside.