Night run

The dew clung to our toes,
Like the way our shirts clung to our damp backs,
As we ran through the humid, yet cool fields.
We suck under the bushes,
And we hid in the shadow of the large oak trees,
Avoiding the detection of wandering guards,
Or worst, wandering friends, we didn't invite.
Through the winding road we walked,
The midnight moon milling above in the enclaves of wispy clouds.
As we reach the lake, and turn into the final field,
We positioned ourselves on top of the railing,
And together we craned our necks skywards,
To witness the vastness of space,
And the beauty and grace,
Of the stars and planets suspended on invisible strings,
And contemplate stuff like the earth and it's beings.
Hand encased in hand, we sat on the field now,
All is calm and quite; us smiling brow to brow.

I'm not feeling creative so here's a list of lyrical snippets I think sound deep af.

You can keep the nose ring, I don't have to soul search
I'm still at my old church, only ever sold merchGrandma say I'm Kosher, momma say I'm culture
(Chance The Rapper, Angels)

Take a pen and write this down
Draw something that can't be found
And learn to walk again somehow
You know you might surprise yourself
(Jack Garratt, Surprise yourself)

And we hate Popo, wanna kill us dead in the street for sure, nigga
I'm at the preacher's door
My knees gettin' weak and my gun might blow but we gon' be alright
(Kendrick Lamar, Alright)

Along with the people inside
What a wonderful caricature of intimacy
(Panic! at the Disco, Build God, Then We'll Talk)

I am the dragon breathing fire
Beautiful mane I'm the lion
Beautiful man I know you're lying
I am not broken, I'm not crying, I'm not crying
(Beyonce, Don't Hurt Yourself) 

And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope
It's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat
'Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me
Looking for heaven, found the devil in me
(Florence + the Machine, Shake it Out)

I am the proof.

Hey honey, how yah doing?

I'm about to drop some hurt hope y'all ain't suing.

Low and behold, I am the proof that y'all's disposition ain't just.

I am the proof that frequent failures are fit to sit pretty in society's bust.

No we didn't cure contagious coughing, nor, solve and serve up simple solutions,

No we're here today to bring a whole new revolution.

We are the proof that we don't need to do great things to be great.

I ain't the smartest bulb in this room, and all them successful's gonna hate.

But I am content with myself, at being mediocre, and plain.

I ain't wanna be some medal, I ain't got nothin' to gain.

I am happy and frankly has a full belly, and friends that love me.

I did good, and that is enough, I am so free!

I gotta whole life ahead, and I've got good health,

Y'all entrepreneurs, and big busy businessmen, can keep your wealth.

Me I'm rich in life and rich in company, I'm alright,

Are y'all? I hope that y'all haven't lost sight.

Thank you and good night.

The stubborn and the closing of minds

Why you gotta be like this?

Why you have to pretend that it doesn't exist?

Problems with terrorism,

Issues like climate change,

Difficulties with equality?

Do you honestly think,

That the world you trap yourself under,

Hiding in your shells, away from the thunder,

Will not break?

No.

One day it shall shatter,

And then when all your pieces are scattered,

You realised the ignorance in your stance.

They way you chose not to look at the balance.

The way you chose not to take up the challenge.

How short-sighted you were,

To not have looked up from that blank book,

And crawled out of that nook,

And only did it when the world shook,

To make comments on things you've never know,

Because you pretended you were never shown.

No.

You chose to turn the blind eye,

You chose to tune us out,

You decided that we are not right,

Because you lacked the foresight,

And pretend that everything is fine as you sleep at night.

Even as I speak now,

You will never listen. How?

How, can I make you listen?

Hear the calls of reality?

It is quite sad really,

That you would rather be known as silly.

Than to admit that you are stubborn,

Self-centered and dim,

Pretending to live your lives without knowing of sin. 

Asian

Sometimes I wish I was more asian.
I wish I could be good at figuring out numbers,
I wish I could understand chemicals,
I wish I could be what my parents always wanted me to be.
Or at least be able to grit my teeth and ploy through a goddamn law degree.
But I can't, I can't be who they want,
I can't even be a good christian for them,
I had to be gay.
But they won't tell me what they want but critics my choices when I do make them.
I live in perpetual fear of being rejected,
I can't study geography because they raised me to enjoy comforting indoors.
I can't be a teacher because they raised me to want a comfortable life.
They taught me with hard work, I could be the doctor that would save lives,
Or the lawyer that could protect the innocent,
But most of all so I could make MONEY,
The source of all my problems.
It is not true.
Hard work is only for people that have found their passion.
I can't even find my bloody slippers.

Blue underwear.

The afternoon sun lazily crept through the curtains,
That swayed in the breeze of the electric fan oscillating,
That caressed my exposed foot, as I laid my head on top of his chest.
The sound of his slow heart resonated within my entire body,
That seemed to be moulded into the curves and angles of his,
That was emitting a subtle warmth from under the white duvet.

Only in a pair of blue underwear was he,
But on my bed nobody would disturb us, nobody was here to see.
It was just the two of us under the covers, indoors, just content to be.
Just him and me.
I do enjoy the quiet comfort of privacy.

The boy with the dragon onesie.

I am the boy in the felt and polyester-coth onesie,
The one in bright purples and neon orange.
The one people stare and gawk at,
Pointing out that I am not wearing dull clothing like the duller crowd.
Shouting out of empty mouths, helium comments, inflated and squeaky and meek.
Whispering into ear of other, lead insults, about how weird, how newly millennial.
They cannot understand nor do they choose to comprehend me.
Why wear that? Why not a nice white button-down, or some jeans?
Why keep this hidden? Why not cloth myself with this, not hide it away inside a trunk?
In this dragon-skin, I am alive.
I embrace the harrowing colours of my one-peice, I let it become me.
I do not need to explain my lilac scales, nor my sunset nails.
All there is to explain requires no words.
Because I am no longer the boy is the dragon onesie, no, no.
I am a dragon, in the body of a boy.