A shadow follows With every step I take. Wherever I walk, I carry my past And my present. The shadow follows, But if I’m not careful, it begins to lead. And I cannot recognize The hand in front of my face. Advertisements
Love is not a drug, but a flame. Warming the frigid soul. Burning the eager hand.
America is an empty promise. Designed by eyes willfully blind. Built by lives forcefully bound. America has never absolved itself of the inconvenient past carved in blood and ink, Or of the shameful present created day after day. America cannot escape the self-constructed labyrinth of delusional exceptionalism, Convinced of its divine mandate and righteous fire. […]
How many have lost Lives and loves, to cloak white men’s Insecurities
For how long must you wear the mask until it melds to your face? Until forgetting you ever covered yourself? How long before you become something else entirely? Can the you that was ever return? Is the mask who you are or who you always have been?
I suppose that I was tired. Tired of hearing about grandparents from Ireland, Sicily, Gujarat, Hanoi Tired of listening to tales of courageous ancestors who entered Ellis island without knowing a lick of English, crossed the desert border under moonlight, braved the Straits of Florida on makeshift rafts. So I paid. Blood money, to be […]