When she walks into a room,
she can go totally unnoticed
or steal every ounce of oxygen in the place.
Her beauty is natural and imperfect,
coexisting in the same space to play tricks on the mind.
I've seen her both love and hate equally as hard,
and I know for a fact she exists in two places at once.
I can see what her eyes see and hear what her mind speaks.
The stories they tell are different, but sometimes all the same.
She lives her two lives alike while they themselves remain separate.
She does not chose to pick her favorite of the two,
for what purpose would that serve her?
She will always be apart of both,
one does not exist without the other.
To sentence her to live singularly would be
all but a punishment onto it self,
For what is the present without the mind
and what is the mind without the present?

They aren’t any more disruptive to the eye than any of the other buildings,
Human shelters mingle with the bark of the trees that line the dirt road like they have always been.
Written into history, together, man made and natural things.
Because nature's only language is song, everything else is mans.
The curious eye doesn’t skip a beat.
But your wall stands for so much more,
The white color a stanch contrast to the warm hues
that have grown up with the land.
Because we understand walls,
But what, we’d ask, are you protecting against?
Or who?

Lately I haven't been sleeping well,
I do not have the time,
My gram never read me the bible
but she planted in my mind
Ideas of living easy,
Brand names became divine,
it's not about the things or goods,
instead it's peace of mind.
If you cannot understand,
I'll try to speak to you
Philippians 4:8
says "whatever is true,
noble, right, pure, lovely,
worthy of your praise,
these things should consume your thoughts
all through out your days.
So get dressed in Sunday's best,
it's the christian thing to do,
but while you're reading scripture,
I won't be in the pews.
Because I won't just sit and wait
to cash in on peace of mind,
While everyone one else' sleepin,
I'll be on the grind.

You were like an open book,
your life was a series of mixed messages,
Draped in the sheer silk of tragedy.
I don’t remember you, all of you,
whether that’s my fault or circumstance,
But I do remember moments,
Specifics, things that were uniquely yours.

I remember the roses,
I don’t know if I’ll ever forget.
They smelled like a fresh reminder
I didn’t give you enough credit.
It was not the roses, it was the detail.
The white door probably squealed when you opened it,
Mystery and illusiveness gone in an instant.

I never asked you how that all went,
Or when you actually did it.

My mind casts out nets when wondering
And from time to time,
It’ll catch you in its net and you will be brought to the surface.
I’ll remember you hated basketball,
But we’re always pointed in that direction.

I’ll remember your brother, your mom.
I never even asked you their names.
But I know them
And their story, your story,
Is now apart of my minds ocean.

And the way the end happened,
Your aunt called me…
And never called me back.
Why? What exactly did she say?
I can’t recall. It was all so… real.
I couldn’t stop thinking about it for a while.

During this whole pandemic,
I didn't even think once about you.
When I get scared at night,
I don't wish you were near.
When I long for touch
It's not yours I desire.
Because it was never you, or you, or you.
I have been birthed of the barrier
of a small summary in history.
I can see in both directions,
nothing but untold stories mixed with endless potential.

But I digress.
Because the point is not about the past or the future,
It's about a hopeless feeling,
Strangling your heart beat,
consuming your mind.

Life, as it is, as it were,
moves and you have always been stagnant.
So it is in the past you shall remain.
But a mere smudge in my colorful life.

It seems appropriate that today,
the sun stay hidden.
Because when the sun is out,
it's impossible to feel complete sadness,
it's hard to feel invisible and alone.
For the sun brings with it,
the trees, and the leaves, and the birds, and the breeze.
The sun has a way of warming your bones,
kissing you gently and smiling softly.
Today, it is appropriate that the sun not come out
because if it were around,
I could not stand to be so sad and lost and alone.
But somehow the sun knew to stay away
because this feeling is too great a weight
to be able to burn away like a cloud.
It is appropriate that the sun remain hidden today
because only the grey sky could possibly match this feeling.

It spread equal through night
as it did through the day
cholera choose victims
the lottery way.
For it's little to matter,
if you lived upstairs or down,
like the air that we breathe,
the threat always round.
It grabbed hold of the cities,
it's grip tight, unforgiving,
no wall could deter it,
no way to stay living.
While some of your neighbors,
stayed put, kept inside,
when cholera stuck,
they would not survive.
Normalcy gone,
with the rest it had fled,
to live was to say,
you're just not yet dead.