Poetry

"why are you crying you shouldnt cry its useless stop crying stop crying"

stop crying 

What if

I could be a real actor

What if

It doesn't matter if my name sounds like a big-movie-star name?

What if I'm delusional?

What if I don't really care?

A world which 

Begins with the 

Click of the 

Day, with 

Every tick 

From the clock 

Going round, 

Hounding the day till 

I drag myself out,

I’m standing there, minding my own,
 Unarmed, no threat, just skin and bone.
 But he sees me, and I’m already guilty,
 Not for what I’ve done, but for how I look, for where I’ve been, for the color of my skin.

If only it was because  

you were fifteen  

and I was thirteen  

but it wasn’t.  

Not really.  

The solidity of the darkness

The ever-cascading waters

Sharp and dangerous, altogether hardly enticing

Await me wherever I wander within my mind.

I catch a glimpse. 

from afar, 

the shine of his silky hair in the golden sunlight

his expression unreadable, 

as if he's pondering something he'd never tell a soul. 

You put on your glassy mask

So I'll only see

The version of yourself

You contrived for me. 

You slip on your suffocating shoes

Kathy watched out her window as Samuel left his apartment, 

spit his gum on the ground

and lit his cigarette. 

the same as yesterday. 

the same as every day. 

The snow of yesterday lingers in my mind,

and the heat of today bites at my body.

Exhaustion writhes through every atom in my being, and sleep seems to be the only thing I know how to do.

Were you put here only to provide contrast?

Your gruesome body zooming in and out of my vision gives something to compare to the flower.

I have never been a poet,

But for you I will try.