Close your eyes

Your world, not extending
beyond the soft quilt under
your skin, unending


Soft ripples of cloth, and picturesque seams
Nothing here but
You, me, the sky, and soft dreams

I'll reach up and take the stars from the sky
If only to lay them at your feet
to place them in your hands
to bring light into those glazed eyes
or give a glow to a world so bland

and each one would be folded
into a beautiful origami castle
I, the lord, and you, the vassal
Or perhaps me as the king
and you as a queen, whichever
My gentle playmate.. which one is better?

I'm a majestic creature of the sky
You're an empty-faced child on a quilt
Each star shall be used as a stepping stone
so I might meet you in the place I built


Let us meet, as lovers, or
at least equals
on this starry floor

To tell you the truth, it's you I miss.
To tell you the truth, it's you I want to kiss.
To tell you the truth, I still reminisce.
To tell you the truth, I am lost in my own abyss.

Truth be told,
The future I hold,
My sorrow cold,
Wisdom old,
My life sold.

Beyond my heart,
I fall apart,
Our souls compart,
And a difficult new start.

pretty girls snappin' away
straight ******* pretending they're gay

outside, older men catcall
in my room, i silently bawl

funny girls tweeting for fun
300 retweets make them stun

8 year old boys know what moaning is
thinks it's funny, making their girls his

school playground's bully is big
peer pressures nerd in taking a swig

movies in Hollywood are less dramatic than my life
when will the end come to this strife

We were 12 when we would walk down the street and have men look us up and down, staring at us  hungrily. Men smiling and whistling at us  like we are  some sort of pet that they were trying to catch.

we were 13 when  we had to watch what we wore because if too much shoulder was showing or if our shorts were too short we would distract the boys at school from their “learning” because clearly boys learning is more important than ours seeing the only thing we were learning were tips and tricks about what we should and shouldn't be wearing... because if our skirts were too short or our stomach was  too exposed that would show the guys that we “wanted it.”

But clearly those tips and tricks didn't help because at the age of 14 we were grabbed by boys at the mall and in the streets, but it was okay because “it meant we were hot and had **** bodies.” but There is nothing **** about getting used to saying “there was this man who…”

We were 15 when we yelled and sobbed because the men that use to stare at us on the streets found their way into our sheets... as we cried "no, Please don't touch us there ” but I guess my no sounded like a yes and my don't touch me sounded like a carry on and that my terrified eyes and paralyzed body looked like I want to be touched.
Even after everything that happened People tried to teach us that there was nothing that I could do about it and that we should just count ourselves lucky and get use to it…. But how is it possible to get use to being a human object that men can touch whistle and purr at as they please.

We went from having  little boys call us names and pulling on our braids to having a trail of tears fall down our faces each night .Because we knew once we closed our puffy and abused eyes, we would see the men, the men who found their way in our dreams... I guess We went from playing with toys  to eventually becoming toys ourselves.

you asked me what was wrong, as if you knew something had happened
you questioned if it was something you said, or did
you knew it was your fault
you apologized
i said nothing.

He has a heart I don't mind breaking.