Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Blink twice for yes
Once for no
Tell me
Did you ever stop
and think
You wanted more?

From this life you call
The big
Aluminum door
Not letting anyone through
Doesn't make it easier
To walk the floor

It's not like your parents
Are dead
Yet you haven't called them
Mom
And Dad
Since you were 10

You were always busy
But only in your head
The rest of the world
Missed you
They called and left you
Blind voicemails

This is Kathy and this is John
We were worried about you
Dear
Disappear
Don't call
Don't invite yourself

It's not the choice I made
It wasn't an offer
It's not agreeable
It's pathetic and
Inescapable

I don't paint vanilla skies
And cherry blossoms
I don't ask about the weather
Or even your grandson
I don't even ask about myself
Maybe I should

Maybe I should.

Being white...is now a sin to society.







I was nothing but a plain canvass. Hanging in the wall, the consummate design of purity. One day, I threw a dot in the middle of my frame to see how life is like. Then all of the sudden, I became the attention of most paintings. I was art. I was meaningful. The thought of my imperfection is art. But not all commits to that sense of style, and they judged me. They smudged me with colors I'm unfamiliar with. Their hands changed me in terms of tragedy, just like themselves. My innocence became abstract with different intentions. The white no longer defined me, but the sins they made me do provide.