Writing

I keep everything i have left of you

I still look at our pictures together

We looked so happy

I still have your sweatshirt

It still smells like you

I still have the stuffed animals

How can i think,
when i sit in classrooms built by men
to teach us how to think like them,
and i try—
god, i try to conjugate freedom
in a language that was never mine,
in a room that doesn't feel like home,

Who is telling the story 

Of the little girl who got raped on her way home

From school

Who is telling the story 

Eyes as deep as space, 

Looking into them I lose my breath 

An undeniable spark buried down

Quickly turns to fireworks, the desires are unbound

Words tumble out of my mouth 

Soft pink

mixed with the blue of today

a magenta now

you can see the swirls and streaks of the colors in the sky

warm and cool

the sharp, sincere orange flashes across the horizon

mixing

merging

You are all that I think about

Every day, every hour, every minute 

I can't get you out of my mind

You even show up in my dreams now

How will I ever move on when you are all that I think about