qcb606
as i stare at the branches on the trees outside, i realize that they're just a part of the tree. and in those parts are smaller parts and smaller parts. and i come to see it as a mechanism. little parts made up of littler parts make the tree what it is. but, i catch myself. it's more than little parts. instead, i look at the big part. i appreciate the life and the beauty of the tree as a whole.
hood. trayvon martin wore a hood. but i don't really understand why that's the center of this whole thing. everyone wears hoods. black, white, latino. i wore a hood yesterday, i didn't get shot. i just don't get why the hood is the big deal. what about the fact that a seventeen year old boy was shot.
You flipped me over. Your big hands placed upon my shoulder forced my body to shift. I was cradled in your arms now. Don't let go, I thought. Please, just don't. But, you did. It was never anything more than sex for you. I get that. I get that I agreed to that. "You're okay, right?" you'd ask me. "Yeah, of course. I'm fine." But I wasn't.... I wanted more. More of you. More of that feeling.