If it were us we'd be screaming and crying
Helpless and afraid, alone barely surviving

We would be screaming and crying, our children are dying

Helpless and afraid, our homes now our graves
No aid on its way because of the blockades

If it were us we'd be screaming and crying
Our children are dying
Our children are dying...

They say they'd get help if they had white skin and blue eyes
But they don't so they're dying

Yet they carry on smiling, hope in their eyes

Aid is on it way but it's not enough
A group of 12 so brave, so tough
Made of the best of us
but it's not enough

If it were us we would be screaming, we would be crying

Our children are dying

If it were us would we still be smiling?



                                  Free Palestine 🇵🇸 📢 ⛵

Some days I wake up in terror
The body would move if only the mind would
Send the signal
Feel safe enough to go on living
Those days I feel a cage in the shape of
My skin
Pushing inwards with so much force
I could become a black hole


Some other days I wake up vivid
Full of life
I can walk, run, lift
Smile
I can answer the phone
I can plan my days ahead
And the only thing getting in my way
Is a pain
In my lower back
That makes it difficult to make things fun
And a confusion
That makes it difficult not to wonder:


"𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦?"

do you not know the name, some do

and believe in her. the rod of jesse.



some say it is a pillar of salt

yet the news says most people

don’t.

Leak into another night
     I am dead mechanical
Cut black lines into my skin
     Tattoo me with asphalt
Touch my face one time--kiss me goodbye with an insult
          I'm just fading tail lights
          It isn't my fault.

               Your fingertips are tracing something...
         And my reddened eyes are craving something...
     Some might hope for for the weather's improvement,
                        but, me?, I'm hard in love
                        with the cold front that's
                                     moving in.

Let me crawl across the sky--
     a skull coated in red wine.
The Titan's getting tipsy.
     I'm at home in the sweating night.
Cracked my ribs one time, kissing asphalt on Orange Street
          Then I had to stand up
                    screaming
      after sweating through sheets!

                My memory surrendered something...
            Your frozen face was mending something...
        Might have hoped for condition's improvement,
                        but, me?, I'm hard in love
                           with my aching--that's
                                     all I am.

Dead Mechanical
     Romanticize it.
Dead Mechanical
     I can't eclipse it!
Make me fiction, or ***** my fingertips.
     Let me lie. I am Dead Mechanical.

Hello fam!
I'll be posting lesser poems,
'cause I'll have lesser time.
But, I'll keep in touch!
Until then,
Goodbye!