on july 13th, 2013: George Zimmerman
a florida native with a history of violence
was found not guilty for the ****** of unarmed 17 year old African American boy Trayvon Martin claiming self defense

on may 8th, 2012 African American, Marissa Alexander:
a florida native with no history of violence
was sentenced to 20 years in prison for discharging a warning shot out of self defense from the wrath of her abusive ex- husband

marissa,
i often wonder how you felt on july 13th when you heard the Trayvon Martin verdict
did you feel the heaviness of invisible shackles weighing your hands and feet down like you had stepped into the 1600s?
did you feel a surge of anger burn through your throat like i did for you?

did you ask yourself if you should’ve continued letting your husband play picasso on you?
Letting your body be his work of art as he splattered blotches of black and blue making a tie-dyed canvas out of you?
because the jury treated the bruises you wore as if they were the plague
saying beware of a black woman who protects herself
it takes 20 years of solitary confinement to cure her of this disease

marissa,
are you afraid of the skin of bullseyes your two children were born into
knowing that society will use them for target practice every day like they did for you?

can you not sleep at night out of fear anytime your child pulls a hood over his head
that he is marking himself as sacrifical lambs to our legal system?

did you tell your mother the next day to burn your babies black hoodies
because on July 13th it was made known
being black and wearing a hood means danger
that being black and wearing a hood means you have a hunger for ******
that being black and wearing a hood means you have cosigned to a persecution?
and yet…we all seem to forget the ones in white that fit the same description

marissa,
i hope you’re starting to see America has OCD
wanting to color within the same lines, with the same two colors
segregating black and white
neglecting to realize that blood and blood shed never bleed out in the same two colors
just look at the crime scenes of Trayvon Martin and your ex-husband

marissa,
from now on when you bite your tongue while eating
don’t spit the blood out
leave it, let it settle, then swallow
and let it be a reminder of all the trayvon martins, all the emmett tills, all the james birds, and all the little black boys who died for standing their ground like you tried to

marissa,
i know you feel like god abadoned you
as if he stabbed you into the back and sent you on a suicide mission
but please
know you are my symbol of hope
you are my hero
the woman i wish to emulate and be
you are the one i pray for at sunday night dinners while holding the one hand of my black mother and the other hand of my white father
hoping one day america can sing free at last and actually mean that
hoping one day america can be blended and still be considered alright
hoping america will stop painting pictures in only black and white

the seasons have changed
we are back in touch and its like last summer all over again
the electricity
the euphoria
we are at the base of the tree that watched you grow last year
you are smoking your first cigarette and crying
we are swimming in the river, taking polaroid photos of each other in a thunderstorm
we are at our favorite coffee shop, despite the fact that you don't even like coffee
but
there is still an ocean between us
and now i have different things i am remembering
she is in your bed, sleeping in your arms
she is posting pictures of you kissing in the park and i am crying so hard that i go to the bathroom because i think i might throw up
you are flirting with her at a bar while i am boarding the plane to come see you
you are lying and compromising the times we had together just so she feels comfortable
and now
you tell me you love me even though you abadoned every single one of our memories
you are choosing her over me
again
and it is breaking my heart every single time that i inhale
although im no longer sorry about the front bottoms
i am sorry that i told you that i needed you
and you still picked her because it was more convenient
i am sorry you are realizing now that maybe you need me too

A steady post lingers in the distance, reading "Allied Road." It's been abadoned for quite sometime now and the ruins are filled of relics. Dust.
We burned it down together, dont you remember?
With our propane tongues and Zippos the size of patches used to cover one eye.
Covering one eye, as we always did. You know it's true.

Sometimes when I'm alone with my thoughts of being alone without you, I take a barefoot stroll there.
This may sound abstruse, but letting my toes get lost in the ash reminds me of warm sand widow's-peaking an ocean shore.
Golden.
Wavy.
Blue.
That picture in my head alone reminds me of you.

It's much cloudier there. Dimmed. Gloom, almost as if the sun is too scared to go near it or the sky is relflecting the ground.
Either way, I try to keep my eyes closed as often as possible and let my imagination take control. Partly because the embers blow into and bug my eyes, but mostly because I simply want to.

Another words came out from the mouth of yours,
the words that made me feel wanted,
utterly special,
eternal comfort.

But the sudden overthink took me down,
it was full of what if,
it was full of paranoia,
it was full of negatives

Like an abadoned roller coaster it made me happy for a while,
but then it kills me instant.
A short term of happiness,
came out from a sentence full of sweet words,

But I remind myself,
what the past had taught me,
they've said what you said and eventually lies.

Are you one of them?
one of them who lies.

pay no attention for this is only an experiment.
this here is nothing built upon nothing.
 
she doesn't live here anymore,
there is no spark no flash of violence left.
we've all been abadoned by our morality;
generation Rx with no life skills and only pills
as problem sovlers.
isn't God going to show up
now?
or does he pay no attention,
we are only an experiment, only a cheap immitaion
of the real thing.
 
are you the real thing?
real like sand between your toes and
fresh squeezed orange juice.
 
reality sets in as the sky closes in
on us.
a wave of blue through the universe;
we run into ourselves yet fail to recognize.
i know you;
familiar, like heat from a sun burn.
i watch you lean in,
close your eyes; divide the invisible.
i let go your hand as you disipate,
dancing among the kelidescope galaxy,
 
forever changing.
altered.
never to be the same.
 
a generation raised on poison and fumes,
breathing in, breathing in, breathing in
the nothing that will be built upon nothing.
 
we are the experiment.
prepare for lift off;
surgery;
surrender.
 
don't shut your eyes.
this is it.
the real thing.
 
 
 
 
shhh...
don't miss it.

My Mamma told me
to follow traditions
without a condition

But what should I do
when
tradition left
humanity abadoned?

Eat pavement.
drift, no home,
he squints into smoggy sun,
remembers when laughter
shined on this abadoned corner
of Litter and Drugs-

where his climbing prayers
brave up a sunlit corridor asking for help, knowing how forgiveness
drives him in, pressed, open,
pushed out, vulnerable, no armour
his eyes stung back to home-
  
wondering if this drive-by-night city
will remember God's undying love?

Do they know He remembers every face as apart of his own?

Without the material
The spiritual can't be known
Without the spiritual
The material has no meaning

This is why so many are lost
And without meaning
They have abadoned the dichotomy
Of the two worlds

And have chosen only one
In all things it leads them
To the ancient truths of the spiritual
Yet to follow would be to admit defeat

So they continue to wallow
In self hatred and meaningless
All because of their pride
Or their ignorance

Gone away, Deep into the forest.
With the mist surrounding my vision.
Blurry,
I can't see but I know,
Theres a man looking at me.
Knocked out.
I wake up,
Abadoned house.
Its dusty.
I get up.
The wood below my feet
It creeks.
I walk.
I walk till I see that man.
Hes sitting on a couch
With blood on his hand.
Scared,
I run for my life.
Footsteps,
Footsteps behind me.
They feel as if they are coming,
Coming in every direction.
I look behind me.
He has a knife.
I  think.
I shouldn't have gone away,
So far away.
From home.
Trip on a stick.
Fall on my face.
Knife to my head.
Dead.