He walks up to me and says, “bro if you think about it, Israel is like racist”
Immediately the urge to pass my fist down his throat comes upon me
But, we’re at school, so I decided to bite my tongue instead of his
He continues to try and tell me everything that is wrong about my home, my home, my home
After his first words, my mind goes into a flashback to my home:

Serenity
Steel and rubber wheels, trudging along earth’s edge
The wail of a young infant, piercing the atmosphere like a pin drop in silence
The pop in my temples
Pressure on my skull
They both splice my silver-lined thoughts and urk my discomfort
The dry air strategically carves cracks onto the surface of my lips so that they are no longer an instrument of communication, but solely a burden on my comfort

All components of hell build walls around me
But serenity knocks at my door, I am finally home

“Dude are you listening to me?”
I awake from my coma, to the pure sound of ignorance
Here stands a boy trying to tell me my muse I use to live by is a lie
Here stands a white privileged boy who thinks he knows the answers to the world because he can read a ******* text book

I regained consciousness..
He says, “Anything to say, bro?”
I thought to myself, I can stand here for hours and try to explain
Who the hell are you to waste my time


I lost the switch somewhere during the conversation
The moment in which black changed to white was blurred
But I know one thing
I know one thing better than I know my own soul
I know that the world was serene when I touched ground at my home

I stood in front of him and started to begin laughing
Each chuckle was enough to make the world dance on stilts
It crawled up to every nook and down through each crevice of the room
The understanding he gained realizing I would not let his ignorance get to me
I stood there and laughed, I had no reason not to
To be alive was a reason to laugh
To survive the persecution of my people, was a reason to laugh
To survive the countless pennies being thrown at me, was a reason to laugh
To survive being told you’re a jew, you’re not good enough, was a reason to laugh
To survive being called a ***** ******* jew, was a reason to laugh
To survive being thrown to the ground and called a ****, was a reason to laugh
To get back up and RISE, was a reason to smile.

"Tell them
                you love them
                                         and never
                                                           talk to them
again. "

It was an average Sunday morning consisting of cartoons, breakfast on the stove, and hot chocolate.

I yelled into the next room, "Dad is breakfast almost ready?"

After no response I yelled again, yet still nothing. I decided to get off the couch, and after that nothing would ever be the same.

As I entered the room my dad stood as though he was the prisoner of Medusa.

He began to shake and his head proceeded to slowly approach the non forgiving marble counter.

I ran to the kitchen and caught him in my arms just before his precious head impacted the counter.

There I sat, a twelve year old boy holding his father in his lap while his father's mouth began to foam.

My father's head sat so perfectly within my lap and I watched my father's soul began to lose touch with reality.

I screeched for help, but no one answered.

How can a boy still trying to master his multiplication table be asked to hold his father in his arms as his breath slowly ceased to exist.

I pushed my ear into his mouth to see if any breath of life was left, I heard nothing.

January 14th, 2009.

11:05am.

Happiness came knocking, no one was home.

One day I hope that
you will see me as
someone to love
rather than
someone to shelter.

Thank you all that are following me! I just reached 100 Followers. Im so happy that I can share my work you you all.