hey my little angel,
how're you doing
haven't seen you in a while
hope I've made you smile

hey my little angel,
how're things from above
do you feel what I believe
do you see what I've achieved

hey my little angel,
things just aren't okay
I keep thinking it'll get better
but instead it's all the same

hey my little angel,
will you recognize me
when I meet you someday
in your land far, far away

hey my little angel,
make me see
show me the light
I won't give up the fight

Wrists made out of pencils,
A will made out of steel.
Blood and teeth amongst the tiles,
Was he ever even real?
Resisting cruel hands,
Left his words where they are.
He jumped out of the window,
Rather than stay and spar.
He could've stayed among the flesh,
But his bones snapped on stone.
Did he really choose to die?
Did he jump or was he thrown?

And so, she said

"There will be pain tonight,
an unbelievable amount of pain
that not even the stars know as they supernova,
that not even the earth knows
as it's land is torn in two by quakes,
that not even the sky knows
as it is ripped apart by lightening.
It is a pain that is unleashed from the very depths of the soul
and leaves the thinnest traces of its mark
on the exterior of the human body.

"It is a constant torrential downpour,
a constant tsunami of grief;
it is a pain that will be known
by the most fearsome of men.
It is a wrath that lashes its victims,
leaving nothing in its remains."

A girl was born in Bed–Stuy, Brooklyn on the 30th of June to a family of influence and wealth descending from the very man John C. Calhoun, himself

Lena Horne was a beautiful woman and soul; diversity radiated from her very essence from her spirit itself

Her racial heritage was a mix of African American, Native American, and European descent - family pride and honor came with her family name as the Horne was one of the First Families of Brooklyn

As raised and nurtured in a cosmopolitan sense, she was more than a pretty face and lovely name

The chanteuress was also a civil rights activist who fought for the rights of others, she denounced racism and fought injustice which unfortunately still exists

An epitome of style, elegance, and grace whose charms, bravery, and charisma will never be forgotten; she left an indelible mark in history

Known for her commanding presence, subtle dignity, and strength - she was a powerhouse in her own right

She graced this world with pride and strength; a rare soul and beautiful heart

May her legacy forever shine, cherish, and protect the future generations to follow

She will never be forgotten and always a light for coming tomorrows

Rest in Peace

It has always amazed me how
No one knows the time
They’re supposed
To go.

They only saunter and
Roam like they
Always have―hoping
That there will be
One more day
They’ll get to do
The things they wanted
To do yesterday.

Not everyone has the pleasure
Of living before fading
Into another
Soul in the sky,
They only exist before
Life call’s them by their
Name and takes them
By the hand.

Only, what will they do
If they earn their
Angel wings too
Soon?

I remember clearly the bright blue sky
as we played games of "Mother May I?"
And I always managed to forget to ask;
I was too excited to complete the task!

I remember clearly your smile and laugh
as we made our way through the path
to pick blueberries to turn into a treat
something sweet that we all liked to eat.

I remember clearly your warm embrace
on days I felt like life was a lot to take
you always listened with endless patience
to any ramble or rant of silly frustration

I remember clearly the proudest mother
three lovely kids, one after another.
I know I am strong, because you were, too.
I'll remember forever because I love you.

i search for memories buried under
miles of debris and find
that i remember i was happy once.

i scour my memories so hard until i can
no longer tell if my hands are bleeding
blood or rust.
this is where i realize that i do not
remember what happiness feels like.

is it more depressing to have never
been happy,
or to know you were happy once
without knowing
what it meant
      what it was
             what it felt like
                   that you'd lose it . . .

In this house,
we mark the passing of
the newly dead
with hard liquor.
Working
shoulder to shoulder
with the Reaper,
I have to
keep a
bottle
in
at all times.

Bite my lips untill they bleed
Because I don't want to say a word
Pass the moment like a frayed lie
As we sit here staring into the abyss
Your eyes like glass and sand
Telling me the time is running out
Shut up, Don't you speak
I know you want to go away
And fade like wispy mentions
But tonight will last as long as your gaze
And I feel you cold like ice
Again a dead end turn around
Shes burying her own hatchet
Shes burying evidence of traitors
I feel cold and you have no warmth
So the night dies slowly with my hopes
And hope dies with your last words
Its over, ive lost my grasp on you
I've lost it because I gave it all to you