Hands up

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He shouted, cigarette resting on his lips , as his girl watched. Her blush rose to her cheeks. She knew well that boys like him would never grow up. They were the Peter Pans Of reality. They would never think themselves too old to prove their masculinity… point a generational gun at another man’s head. He was the type of boy that promised to kill , with the kiss of silver bullets to flesh. His kisses were frequent and arbitrary , but always worth it to him.

His girl watched, leaning on his stolen cadillac shuddering yet fascinated. He was a powerful beast- disloyal to everyone, candid, deluded, young, pretty , and ambitious..in his own way. He was the only person she doted over, though he rarely told anyone that that she was his.

But still  she stayed. The allure of his nonchalance and his fervent fury about life beguiled her. He was perfect danger. So she stayed leaning on the door of the caddy as he blew death into his victim’s throat.

I dreamt

I dreamt that cool is defined by the tighter the pants are and the bigger that ass that shapes it.

Forget the early promotion because my grades are high, if I wasn’t getting high. And nothing’s wrong with blazing, but to do doesn’t automatically make me amazing.

I refuse to conform to a society that tells me I’m lame if i’m not exactly the same.
One that slaps you in the face if you smile too big at the world. One that calms your bright spirit and lets your dark side loose…

A world run by people who stand behind the noose. And if you think  you’re better because your lighter, please know that you suffer from the same lynching as your darker brother. You’ve been given what seems to be elevation, but remember all thats high, must fall . They’ve fed to you these stereotypes that beautify the whitest skin and demote the chocolate flesh.

When I awoke, I heard children screaming out for freedom through thick clouds of smoke, from under snapbacks and from behind the leaders of their cliques. And I cried with them, deep in my heart , so no one would see we aren’t pleased.

Written Can’t be completely erased

I have this idea of a perfect kind of love that consists of smoking weed on queen sized beds. And holding hands and kisses that last forever in a few moments .And memories that fade fast because new and better ones are being made every second we breathe.

Him: Is This love with me ?
   I sighe and smile. I suddenly understand , ‘Its complicated.’

Its perfect.Because i’m in love with you and u love me and the stars always shine in your eyes.So they’re my night skies. And i’m a diamond..not the perfect kind, but the one just dug up and you’re  the sunlight thatt reflects off me and through me.  We’re one , yet we’re still ourselves.

Him: I hope what ur saying is more than a poem. Just say yes.

Its how i’m feeling right now. Now that its too late to try and push away these feelings that I know are still there, ‘cuz they never disappeared.They just slipped into all the places no one’s allowed to see. Now morning’s almost here and i’m not thinking of Dupre. Only you and me and the possibility.

Him: I love you …. if you think you still feel the same believe it . But its late, good night love , hope you sleep well. 

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Main road love

On the main road as we walked shy hand in hand, we kissed, not knowing that eyes saw and recognised us in our blue and white uniform. We thought, that as night approached, and our group project crumpled in his hand, no one would be looking at two kids in secret love. Afterall, hadn’t they all liked someone so much it lasted forever in only a few seconds?

Old love

The clock spun hundreds of times in a minute. Her eyes dulled and his muscles diminished.  The auerole of umber curls that once halo-ed her full cheeks had turned to snow. His back bowed under the weight of  their world. Years of work tatooed their soft supple skin. Hands like canes perched on tired knees and eyes drifted open and close  as the days of death crawled on. No more sporadic bursts of energy to brighten days, just subtle movements slowed by the chains of a damned or lovely afterlife.

Con Amoure

I tell you that the sun sets on your eyelids and the moon rises on your lips. The wind shivers in your arms. Trees bend at your kiss. The ground quakes when you laugh and lava erupts when you frown. Rain falls gently as you cry and thunder strikes when you bleed. Mountains shift when you cringe and clouds depart when smile. You motivate my world; make it spin forever.

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The story she told

     
   The house was lit up like sparkling fire crackers in the kitchen and living room of a blacked out one story house. Inside, an older sister, whose twinkling eyes were lights of their own, told her younger brother and sister a mysterious suspenseful tale about lovers tango-ing under a well lit moon. They shook with happiness, waiting for the plot to unfold. Ann, the babe sister kissed her knuckles, the romance of the story having the effect of a drug on her. She twisted her hair and bit into her lip milking ruby red . The older sister spun her story in a way, that never ended, long after she was silent.

The story told in the house.

                  

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   The house was lit up like sparkling fire crackers in the kitchen and living room of a blacked out one story house. Inside, an older sister, whose twinkling eyes were lights of their own, told her younger brother and sister a mysterious suspenseful tale about lovers tango-ing under a well lit moon. They shook with happiness, waiting for the plot to unfold. Ann, the babe sister kissed her knuckles, the romance of the story having the effect of a drug on her. She twisted her hair and bit into her lip milking ruby red . The older sister spun her story in a way, that never ended, long after she was silent.

To breathe in experience

     The young coquet’s heart stopped when she remembered that she used to be a sweetheart. A darling girl, eager to see the world and experience it. The trouble was that her parents kept her locked in her books with a pen on her left palm. She peered out at the world through other people’s lives. When her parents disappeared, leaving only careful memories of warnings, she breathed in experience- good or bad, as fast as she could, before they returned her to her open solitude. She knew it was wrong. But she was the youth gone wild. She kissed one of her boys’ full soft lips and smiled.

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One of them