All I want to do is forget.
All I want to do is take a break from
all this regret.
All I want to do is be an
irresponsible, reckless and impulsive
teenager for once.
All I want to do is get rid of all this
common-sense for a day
and give in, doing things my way-
even if that way is wrong.
All I want to do is have a day
where I all these failures and burdens I carry,
disappear to some place far, far away.
 

I push doors that say "PULL"
and pull doors that say "PUSH".

I have a tendency to speak fast
and gesture with my hands, 
because I get nervous when I talk (to you).






 

I want to pretend that I 
don't know how to feel
Until I feel nothing at all.
There were a lot of 
unanswered questions.
But they all led back to a silence
I couldn't comprehend.

You are trapped in a cage.
No one sees it.
Not even you.

You don't know what its made of,
you don't know where it came from,
but you feel it.
Its all around you,
encompassing you in strength
that forbids you to move freely.

It seperates you from reality,
and it strangles you with your thoughts.
You have been robbed,
but you don't know what was taken.
You're in a place,
but you don't know where you're heading
or even how you got there.

You know you've been through a lot,
but your memories are distorted,
all mixed up like a puzzel before
it's pieced together.

It's seizing you little by little.
You can't stay,
but you can't go.
You are trapped,
but no one sees it.
NOT EVEN YOU.
 

He was my friend.
The truest of true.
He didn't care if I was nervous
and had problems that other kids didn't.
He was my friend, when I had none.

He didn't care when I cried.
He was my friend, and he didn't shun.
He didn't care when I vented.
He was my friend, and that's said and done.
He didn't care if I was quiet, or loud.

He was my friend,
and now....
he's gone.
 

Watching you take the spotlight,
is driving me insane.
Your fake voice and fake frown,
you're just talking in vain.
Stabbing all the victims in the back,
you're make all those people crack.

You thrive in being the center of attention.
Stop acting like you're hurting,
like you're not alive.
If you don't stop, you'll witness our screams.
If you think you'll recieve an apology,
it's in your dreams
 

Do you remember her?
The girl who was loud,
the girl who smiled.
The girl who knew everything.

Do you remember when she
stopped being loud,
and stopped smiling-
stopped caring about herself?

Do you remember when she came to school
with nails scabbed and bitten to the quick?
Remember the bags under her eyes
and how broken she looked?

Do you remember when she said
she will die one day,
and how everyone laughed
and shrugged it off?

Do you remember when she was 
on social media and the news?
Do you remember when the 
principal came and 
made you pay your respects?

Do you remember her?
Because I do.

Explorers who explore,
to conquer and for greed.
For their country's king or queen,
whose intentions aren't exactly
what they seem.

They walk onto the land,
leaving shoe prints on the ground.
Pretending to come in peace
and good faith,
to those all around.
But the minute the Indians
turn their backs, let down their guard,
they are shackled into slaves,
with no hope of being saved.

Though they were selfless,
fair and willing to trade,
they were treated like rabid dogs,
and the shackles never came off.

But there was one man,
Las Casas was his name.
His heart was different from the rest,
for he understood that the Indians
onky killed the Spaniards because 
they were being attacked.

He saw the Indians for the 
people that they were.
Not savages,
not barbarians.
Not dogs,
nor murderers. 

One police officer.
One man.
One night that ended in murder.

When you read that
first verse,
of what race did you think 
the officer was?
Of what race did you think
the man was?
When you read that
first verse,
who did you think
killed who?

I bet you thought the 
police officer was white,
and the man black.
I bet you thought 
the officer killed the man.

If this is what you thought,
you thought right.
For that is what happened
this year on September 6.

The police officer's name is
Amber Guyger.
She has been an officer for 4 years.
She was off-duty that night,
when she walked into what she 
"thought" was her apartment.
She had walked into
Botham Jean's apartment-
her neighbor.

What happened next....
Well, I'm sure you can guess.

Amber mistook Botham
for an intruder, and

Today's society is like a 
forward bound snowball.
Like a snowball,
we keep moving forward.
Day by day,
instead of collecting snow,
we are making new
discoveries,
and creating new
technologies.

As the snowball
moves forward,
it gets bigger
and heavier.
The bigger it gets,
the more problems
the snowball encounters
as it struggles to
continue moving forward.

Today's society
is like that snowball.
We have problems-
big problems that we've
ignored and denied
for too long.

Maybe, if we didn't
ignore and deny,
our world wouldn't
be so polluted.
Maybe, if we hadn't 
averted our eyes,
we would have seen 
the adverse effect
social media
and technology 
is having on today's teens.
Maybe, we could have 
prevented those 
who took their lives.
Maybe we could have