White Flag

White Flag

Marcus Blaque  (Flickr)

Marcus Blaque (Flickr)

Let us raise our white flags tonight, my dear.
For I am hollow from our screams.
My throat crumbles to dust.
Limbs comatose.

We are raw from the cold;
From the cold we are raw.

Let us throw our signs of peace high above our heads
So that all may see. So no one has to score anymore.

Though our enemies never seem to tire!
Fueled by power, a battery to be recharged.

While we are only human: We break, we cry.
And we die.

Our strength finite and almighty, sometimes.

So we surrender our sharp words, our fire, our pride
And we raise tall our white flags this evening, my dear.
Only for tonight.



How does it feel to know that you’ll never win?
Death loves to whisper in your ear.

You see, I have died many times and each time have come back.

I have washed (by hand) my bed sheets with tears.
Donned a hoody sewn from only our fears.
I inhale the news, nightmares of the day.
Every damning word, I know what they say.

But I’ve won the war, this is now just the fight.

Is it the future you see?
How do you know what ahead lies?

Someone before me knew that I exist.
I am the victory that she dreamed, that she wished to have kissed.
Someone after me I know to exist.
A victory like this I have already witnessed.

From Little to X

From Little to X

Black Boi

Black Boi