© Jan. 16, 2015. All Rights Reserved.
Stable mind in a solitary state.
Writing poetry, but illiterate,
With offensive stories.
Why rhyme if it wastes time,
When I can randomly say?
This is a fast story about my life,
So listen carefully.
I’m trying to relax,
And I hear gunshots outside.
I’m trying to relax,
And I hear thugs yelling.
I’m scared.
I forget my age.
What’s the day?
Is my mind flat?
Yet, I’m young.
What to say?
I greet living organisms and objects.
I squirt a water gun at a picture.
One of my deceased, great grandma.
She’s on grandma’s black wall.
Days later, I see her bluish spirit.
A spirit in my dad’s house.
It was somebody’s birthday.
I’m terrified.
I can’t return to the bathroom.
I was constantly moving
From place to place.
I accepted the human race.
Same age, I do cartwheels on glass.
I bleed from my hands.
I skip school that day.
The bus driver worries about me.
Well, I worry about her.
I worry about how students.
How they could have sex on the bus.
Some students fight, but that’s
Taking things too far!
I get beat up by a student.
He befriends me the next day.
He wants to share. …
The same woman who likes me.
She dates him, and I frown inside.
I’m mocked by students.
They laugh at my mom.
She only walks me to the bus stop.
Was I not about eight-years-old?
Flashbacks nearly strangle me.
That’s the same age I want to kill,
But I don’t know what killing is?
I’m an introvert with no friends.
Who cares if I die?
I’m African American in a racist world,
That’s what I’m told today.
Hell, I didn’t know what masturbation
Was until I was fifteen.
I was always told by my brother
To defend him if I see any enemies.
Well, he is the enemy.
Few years later, there’s one huge guy,
He didn’t fight.
Oh, he talked, but told me to help.
Why am I involved?
The same soul that’d draw hearts
To anyone.
The same soul that’d hug,
And smile.
The same very soul that never fought.
Things didn’t go well that day.
Similar events occurred a lot.
I’m forced to hear my brother.
He complains about anger. …
Anger as a blame game.
He complains, and
Never gets arrested.
He yaps about how he misses mom.
The same woman who smoked
At a gas station while I was in the
Back seat of the car.
The same woman who gave him tuberculosis.
The same woman who abandoned us
I was eight.
The same woman doing drugs.
The same woman with boyfriend’s
Threatening me to keep her life a
Secret.
Last time I saw her was at
My 8th grade graduation.
I bare-witness being flirted on by
More men than women.
That doesn’t make me homosexual.
I’m a carnival act.
I see things.
I relate to one’s in horror films.
I’m isolated.
I’m told not to leave the house.
Many times, the walls are broken
By the time my dad get home.
My brother plays too much.
I get punished majority of times.
The belt lashes with joy.
Every entrance back to my room,
I see my brother’s smirk.
“Pain doesn’t hurt,” he says.
He reminds me of being whooped.
Hurt with extension cords by mom.
He has skepticism of God.
His beliefs shifts too many times.
Fast Forward, I plan to do something
Evil if I can’t accomplish my goals.
I know some people lack
Food and water.
People lack houses.
Every parent cares for their kids.
Explain the parents being abusive.
Explain the parents playing
Psychological games.
Explain them being racist.
Explain them convincing you
To conform to traditional beliefs.
Now, think did the world change
From cruel people?
I’m told to dominate these “Whites.”
I grew up with a white guy.
My dad used to live with him,
And it wasn’t until I got older
That I knew what occurred.
I was told to suck the nasty.
Many times from people.
I refuse.
I abhor hugs.
I have no real partner.
I never had a partner.
It gets worse.
I hear graphic details about religion.
Graphic details about death.
Details about people experiencing
Demonic possessions.
Go up to the church and see the
Demons cast out.
High school is a trap.
My brother runs down the halls.
Every day, he does.
He gets in fights and throw desks.
He jumps over objects,
Bragging about his stunts.
I’m bullied.
I’m asked every day why he does it.
Guess what?
The same people ask.
The same teachers laugh.
And he’s yet not in an asylum.
In fact, he’s popular.
He sits on a guy’s lap accidentally.
Five people fight him, and he
Wants me to help.
No, but I’m consider scared.
If I fight, I kill.
If I kill, I torture.
But these idiots take me lightly.
I’m blamed and harmed.
He fights one of the assailants
On the last day of school and wins.
My high school friend betrayed me.
He stole my cell phone.
But he was poor and on drugs.
I wear the same seven shirts
For five years.
The same shoes for four.
Dad hardly leaves the house.
While I’m a wicked fan of wrestling,
I want to join the wrestling team.
Dad says “Yes.”
After my first day of joining,
He claims he never told me to join.
Liar.
Why can’t I join?
My brother’s on the track team.
He’s even on the cheerleading squad.
He has a girlfriend.
I’m not putting my partner in this
Injustice.
When I get home, literally,
Eight hours of yelling.
Sleepless thoughts.
He’s kicked in and out the house.
What girlfriend I’m getting with?
Not by having such a story like this.
You should tell your partner all.
I’m sick of rape stories.
I dissect your theories.
I’m told not to get a job.
Time speeds.
I’m told nobody’s stopping me.
Not from getting a job.
But just focus on school, dad says.
How could I skip some scenes.
How could I not explain witch’s. …
Such people like them.
I have no problem with them, but
I hate something about everyone.
My dad doesn’t float in only saltwater.
Metaphors to show the one’s he like.
I’m told that surveillance cameras
Are watching me.
I write what I feel.
Did I not kill yet?
Isaiah Lawrence 