sketches: searching

i run outside to
stand in the road beneath the
truth-kissed stars, waiting.

come to me, find me.
i'm calling out to you now.
will you show me life?

its rude to stare

its exhausting, this freak fest,
i don't understand,
when we came here for freedom,
we get whacked and boxed in.

all i can see now is screaming white lights,
flashing in places i don't want to be seen.
i can't understand why they're doing this here,
everyday, all the time, glued to me; blinding.

their eyes burn, their words bite
they chase me to break me
like some sort of missile fire,
aiming to hit me, make sure they get me.

i can't stand it here now
being looked at this way.
being marked on and charted
on every step that i make.

i'm in some sort of test tube,
with little holes in the sides,
enough for me to breathe in,
but not enough to move through.

and i will not stand this,
i can't live things this way.
i won't stay just to get you off
just to piss you off, to get away.

and i just can't stand this,
i can't live things this way.
not when i'm surrounded, and pounded,
just to get to fly free.

sketches: changing

i thought i
was good with change,
could use it,
liked it.
change in my life
was what moved me,
kept me excited,
kept things fun.

change was good..
"good" was change.
right?

but now..
now i'm not all okay with it,
things aren't working out.
i can't change, can't like it.

i know that you've changed,
and changed without me...

i'm not sure if i'm okay with that.

i'm scared. scared of standing still,
scared of moving forwards, backwards.
scared of moving at all.
i'm scared. scared of the same,
scared of changing.

sketches: cold.

the wind tears through me
as i flee from your music,
your passion, your message, your glory.
with it

a chill and a pinpoint, scraping up my spine,
filling up my fingertips, and drowning out my toes,
flooding my heart, and flitting through my mind.
i have this fear in what is left of me, that its killing where it goes.

ooh, a tamale.