superficial
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There's excitement and adrenaline when I'm with you,
Sleeping next to you with my eyes sweeping past your cheeks,
The dull embrace of reality disappears and I'm cloaked with condensation,
You have a little melanin, you're not welcome.
The scarf on your head and your loose clothes says you support terrorism,
go back to where you came from.
My ears bleed from the tales of your insecurities
Why am I being cursed for the patience of my maturity?
You seem to have tied your tongue in annoyance
Every word you spit a spoon full of poison,
Built upon bloodshed and mass genocide
maybe the color of my skin did dictate innocent lives
We probably did take it all away
The culture, the land, the native beauty
Beneath the patterns of the surrounding society
Beneath the spice in other's eyes to hawk like vultures at the vulnerable
Beneath the excess necessity for superiority and distance
I see these plastic people, Barbie dolls.
With their dream houses and expensive cars.
And their plastic friends, at their plastic malls.
Getting “white-girl wasted” at plastic bars.
My life:
Wake up
Fight with mom to take me to school
Math- can we stop now?
Lunch- alone, content, Youtube
Euro. History- like a soap opera, i love it
Come home, fight more, homework, shower
Superficial faces
Superficial smiles
Superficial places
Traveling superficial miles
Give me something real
Give me somthing pure
Give me somthing needy
Something to endure
Human 2
humans are such fickle creatures
they can never decide
they go into something thinking one way
and wanting this
then by the end thery're thinking the complete opposite
Can you imagine the frustration
The frustration of your own ignorance
and
complacency
But you are made to think that
it is everyone else's fault?
You can't solve your problem
All the years of winding
and tightening the
perfectionist urges, only
to increase the craving
for alteration. And finally
comes the vain obligation
to maintain
2 rows of 32 pearls.
If only you could understand.
Can you not see the twinkle in my eyes
or hear the excitement in my voice
or see the happiness in my smile?
Are you so blind to your own world
Models are tens, are dressed to the nines,
Sneak away with photographers behind closed blinds.
Silhouettes pinch at the waist,
like the skin on their face, too tight to relax
Its blinking button eyes
Lashes Plucked
Clean conscience lies
Demons of possess
Its ragged red dress
Hides in the shadows; tireless
Awakened by the silver moon
Loom through loom
