May 2012
38 posts
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My most recent scar is still healing.
The gravel marks show on my skin in six parallel lines,
like a pack of bubblegum sticks mushed inside of me.
It itches so bad at night that I curse my blood for circulating.
Yet really, I find it funny that I can hold myself drained and peeled in a bucket or two,
and to think,
I took such good care of you.
My Father killed two girls. His tongue is stained.
I think Nicki Minaj cries at night.
Are you still up?
My co-worker from Palestine always smiles at me.
He has the cheeks of a baby.
Every time I see him I think of the time I smacked my white Uncle across the face.
I thought it was cool how his skin turned red.
I still don’t know his name though.
I’m bad with those.
Sketches coming in.
lucidityforall-deactivated20120 asked: Are you ok?
Robbed.
It’s interesting,
how small I am.
Even though my hands are shaking,
the moon is still up,
nobody has taken it down.
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Experimental Short Film →
Directed and Filmed: Black Girl On A Bike.
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Deal Tumblr World-- I've discovered a new part of...
I am learning how to skateboard, I said.
When my Italian boss of about forty asked me who’s rickety skateboard was hogging the space behind the counter. He reminds me of a pitbull.
He laughed but I could feel the tension in my thighs from four hours spent skating between the paths in the forest reservation.
I’m trying to say,
I want to become some force of nature on a four wheel...
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