The Double

Kiara  
   
i woke up too drunk to fake sick  
couldn't have stayed home anyway    
test today    
like I studied    
 
so here i sit    
watching the deconstruction of minds  
pretending to give a shit    
cool kids snarl at me    
confirming my non existence    
   
geek    
   
four eyed freak  
   
I ask a question I know there's no answer for    
just so I can justify getting high during recess    
better my 420 than dad's .44 blowing my mind    
   
there's been enough blood on the playgrounds  
   
Next day ...    
   
she tells me she's pregnant    
says I'm her favorite    
the only one who seems to care  
everyone likes my jokes    
she doesn't want to go home  
   
neither do I  
   
so we grade papers and talk    
tell her my mom was a teenage mother  
strongest woman I know    
   
more stories  
she laughs  
she cries    
   
asks me my name    
my real name    
   
why  
   
If it's a boy    
his middle name will be mine    
   
I walk her out    
Thank her    
   
Yesterday?    
   
That was then, today I was a teacher again

dis-orientation
a sonnet
 
So long have I gazed through your shattered glass,  
Outside, forgotten, left, that even leaves  
And flowers hold no aspect true that pass  
As any part of me that life receives.  
 
You ask if I still hold a want of you,  
But who would be this wanting thing you want?  
For in this home, I’m what you never knew,  
But wanted only your own sycophant.  
 
No sex, no drugs, no craving left remains.  
The nails that desperate hold can leave no scars.  
A stranger not, for “stranger” still contains
A part that is of life which mine now bars.  
 
Stripped naked raw of all your bleeding fear,  
I hope you know that I was never here.

Too Many Memories
Crying out loud for someone to hear me
But, no one hears. No one saves me.
Even if someone would happen to kill me, no one would notice.
You raped me of my freedom.
Trapped me in my chaotic mind just to tell me I'm wrong.
When will this ever be enough?
Is the yelling making you more of a man?
Is the threats satisfying your guilt?
I hate you for all that you've become.
Sometimes, I wish you were dead.
Maybe then it wouldn't be so bad?
Maybe one day...

Beneath Black Sleeves (A daydream)

a gunshot is heard outside my window
a flower blooms between sidewalk cracks
aching is my stomach
and dizzy is my head

like rain, I fall, repeatedly
sun for just a couple days
but always do i return

wet are the child's cheeks
and gleaming are their smiles
as stupid as a dog,
each fragmant alike a speck of dust,
they are affected as if dust were a storm

an infant dead or a dead weed of grass
each are the same to me
in the eyes that only channel the outside
and only appear black through the inside

to shutter eyelids and to die
i reach my numbness
mind and soul aren't parallel to my physical body
fore i await death like day awaits night

death may reach me, yet truly
i am not killed
only the flesh meets the blade
the concept of me cannot reach

if a group of infants are as useless as
a flower, born only to fear death
what is the issue with having
my black sleeves uncover the soft hands
that then reach the pistol

the gunshots i heard behind glass
make it back to my fingertips
the molecular skin that destroys life itself
and rips apart the fabric of existence
drop the pistol
Like rain, I fall, as the gun slips from my hand to the concrete

My heart may stop,
But I live.