I feel so tired. 

So so tired of being
angry. 

I am so tired 
of fighting for everything 
for the basic rights I should 
be guaranteed. 

I feel so tired 
of having to explain that
i deserve to live in
this country. 

I am so tired of 
the protests, 
of the speeches, 
of the votes,
i feel so tired

i feel so tired of 
explaining that my body is mine
and nobody else’s. 

I feel so tired of 
having fire, 
and 
fighting
and fighting
and fighting
and fighting. 

I feel so tired of explaining
that racism exists 
and that it’s important we stop it. 

I can’t find the will to 
keep fighting sometimes,
barely dragging myself up from the floor. 

i’m so tired
 

I feel so tired. 

So so tired of being
angry. 

I am so tired 
of fighting for everything 
for the basic rights I should 
be guaranteed. 

I feel so tired 
of having to explain that
i deserve to live in
this country. 

I am so tired of 
the protests, 
of the speeches, 
of the votes,
i feel so tired

i feel so tired of 
explaining that my body is mine
and nobody else’s. 

I feel so tired of 
having fire, 
and 
fighting
and fighting
and fighting
and fighting. 

I feel so tired of explaining
that racism exists 
and that it’s important we stop it. 

I can’t find the will to 
keep fighting sometimes,
barely dragging myself up from the floor. 

i’m so tired
 

Oh, we could do better,
yes, we could,

but we don't want to. 

We could learn tolerance,
we could be civil, 
yes, we could, 

but we don't want to. 

Because all that matters is the 
anger we have and the fact that we can 
scream now. 

Oh, we could hear you, 
yes, we could, 

but we don't want to. 

Because all that matters is that 
I get to speak my mind, I get to lash out
because i'm afraid of being the minority.

Oh, we could celebrate diversity,
yes, we could, 

but we don't want to. 

Because all that matters is 
my voice,
my anger,
my thoughts,
my rights,
my position, 

mine, 
mine,
MINE!

Because we could do all of these things,
we could make the world a better place,

Everything was almost perfect.
Almost. 

but everything was off.

by a step.
by a smile.
by a perfectly flipped hair.
by a giggle. 

Everything would have been perfect,
If it had just gone the way 
that she had planned it.

But nothing had gone the way
that she had planned it, 

because it wasn't perfect. 

It could have been perfect
if he had paid attention. 

It could have been perfect
if she didn't keep her tears inside,

It could have been perfect
if her smile wasn't fake.

It could have been perfect 
if she didn't have to be there, just to see. 

It could have been perfect
if she didn't care for him so much.

It could have been perfect
if she didn't have to be a friend.

It could have been perfect
in a million other ways.

But nobody else could tell. 
Nobody else knew.

Dear (Absent) Dad,

Guess what?

You missed it.

Time goes by so fast,
(you blink) 
and then it's gone.

You missed
the birthdays 
and the graduations
and the colleges
and the parent-teacher confrences
and the signatures
and the weddings
and the kids.

You missed it. 
Where are you now? 
Are you married?
Do you have kids? 
Where you there for them through it all?
I hope you were.
They don't deserve what I got.

We miss a lot of things in life. 

the (beat) of a hummingbird's wing,
whispered words,
a day of work,
glances in the dark. 
how the sun 
(reflects,
reflects,
reflects)
off of the waves
setting them on fire
even though they are wet. 

But (only) strangers miss 
each other's lives. 

What to do on 9/11 if you're Middle Eastern or Muslim.

1.  Look at the ground, breathe steady in and out, hope that nobody notices the occasion.
2. Wince whenever anyone mentions the date and the chorus of sympathies and 'oh man's' that follow.
3. Flinch at every word coming out of everyone's mouth because you're afraid that it will be another comment that jabs at your skin, jabs at your very being.
4. Notice that not many people notice the occasion but you, because they have that privilege, to forget, oh, to forget everything it brought on.
5. Be extra careful with what you say. No wayward comments appreciated. 
6. Avoid the news that day.

Have you ever felt in 
between?

have you ever felt like you
don't belong?

have you ever been stuck in the middle of stars
and earth?

have you ever wondered if there was ever going to be
another like you?

have you been stuck between two countries that both
hate each other?

I am not quite white, 
and i am not quite black.

I am not christian,
and i am not jewish.

I am not hated,
but i am not loved.

I am a stranger in america,
and a stranger in iran.

I am not quite here,
yet not quite away.

I am not quite good,
but i'm not quite bad. 

I'm not quite Arab,
but i'm still Middle Eastern.

i am always,
but not quite
in between.

So if you've ever been 
not quite something in your life,

join me in that inbetween place,

let me tell you about pulsars.
 
In binary star systems, 
there are two stars that 
revolve around each other.

Sometimes, 
they form pulsars.

this is when one of the stars
starts taking materials 
from the other.

It takes and takes 
and spins faster
until the two beams of light
came out of either end.

and the other star?

it's gone.

that's what you are to me.

a pulsar. 

you stripped away my layers, 
and i thought it was only because you wanted
to know the beautiful core.

but as we lived, 
in the light of long-dead stars whose
silent screams never echoed,

you ate away whatever was left of me,
and shined brighter yourself.

bursting in bright beams,
the light you had taken from me radiating 
so nicely on your skin.

and everybody told you how good you looked,

i.
things that start rising up
in a streak of light
that races up in the hues of a 
pink, red, and orange sky, 
tracing a trail against the clouds.

ii.
bursting open and
combusting in and explosion of light,
hanging, suspended in the air for 
a fragment of a moment, 
bright colors flashing against eyes 
and piecing off to 
oohs and ahhs. 

iii.
hallow shells of bodies that splintered themselves
so that other would love them,
displaying their brightest colors all at once,
being the brightest just for a second,
before they're just hallow grey shells 
that drift across the sky like corpses,
drifting lost and burnt out. 
 

Everything has a heartbeat,
when you think about it.

In machinery, it's the gentle thrum
of the parts clicking together like
they should.

I learned this sitting in a slanted car,
hum and buzz surrounding me as
we flipped upside down.

In forests, it's the trees
that rustle back and forth,
the animals scurrying around
like the constant beat of a drum.

I learned this when we played together
in the forest that i catch a glimpse of 
through the window,
while the entire world is tumbling and turning.

In water, it's the constant rocking back and forth,
or bump thumping over
river rocks and flowing fast and ever constant.

I learned this as i sunk into the lake, 
looking up at the surface,
and for a moment, i swear,
i can almost see the stars.

Humans have heartbeats too,