Your Honor,

The injustices I have felt are many

The color of my skin

The language I speak

The sex I am

The people I am attracted to 

make me susceptible to all types of injustices of every kind

The biggest however has been the injustice to my childhood

What is a childhood?

For I have only experienced hardship since I was born

Subject to the archaic rules of a broken system that delegates what I have to 

wear, do, 

even how I have to speak 

For I am a lady, and as such I must act like the picture of prudence and purity

even if I must be elbows deep in dish grease cleaning for a husband my father approves of.

A childhood was ripped from my memory almost like my sense of self was

My mother and father crammed my head full of religion and judgement 

I grew trying to win the approval of anyone who I met because I could never meet my makers'

Even now I have people stepping over me and simultaneously disregarding my accomplishments 

and yet I treat them with every ounce of respect they neither deserve or have earned.

One of the earliest memories I can muster is my mother siding with my 3rd grade teacher for no reason I can remember. This teacher abused me daily with the help of the other students and my mother to this day assures me this teacher was the best thing that ever happened to me

A childhood was scrubbed off my mind

I came to this country when I was 5 and as such have no memories of the supposed happy times my family assures me happened at my birth place

Speaking another language is an abomination to them

Because I am an immigrant I am less

I steal jobs

I leech off the government

I am an insult to every noble blue blooded American in this 'great country'

Even more so because I am 'darker than the others'

A childhood never existed in this life

For I didn't even know what that heart soaring feeling was when I saw a beautiful girl and that fluttery feeling I felt when I saw a darling boy and not to mention the glorious feeling of seeing un-gendered breathing artwork walking or sitting next to me 

I didn't understand it was alright to act on these feelings 

I did know that 'the gays are a sign of Christs' coming'

Even now I remain scared of my parents and what they will think

My childhood was dismissed 

I had none at all 

to this day I am convinced

The biggest injustice I have faced in my wide repertoire is to

My childhood

I rest my case.

I fell in love with words

“you have no shame”

I see it now coming down the line 

He had the sky in his eyes

Patience is not a virtue it's a curse

We are creatures of darkness

creativity came, slapped me in the face with reality and left me in shambles

death has invited me into her home too many times to count

She makes me cough up words which I have never said before

more than the times the ocean kisses the shore

she has bloomed

I am not good

I will look for the public positive

Just when it seems I've run out of words to say; I vomit up more than I have ever thought of

i got a rainbow of colors everyday

I can't write anymore

i thought i was stronger

no, i am just too passionate

am I a prison

he was Icarus

he reminds me he's there for months

the only word I can choke out after what you've done to me

statistically impossible

mantra of a liar

forgotten

Familiarity breeds comfort

But I cannot speak

your skin is a mixture of billions of years of hardships 

You are not less

shriek till your head aches

You keep playing until one kills you

And you thank them

Breath in.

Breath out.

Turn over.

I'm waking up now, I can see instructions running behind my eyelids like movie credits. I never thought like this. 

Breath in.

Breath out.

Sit up.

What is going on? I can hear the drip of the leaky faucet of my old bathroom, the constant ticking of the clock on my night stand.  

Breath in.

Breath out.

Shake head.

I try to shake out the overwhelming cacophony of early mornings. It's 7:12 AM, the temperature is at 70 degrees and information is bombarding me. 

Breath in.

Breath out.

Stand up.

I'm getting dressed now, seeing every fiber of the cotton shirt before I even reach for it. The denim pants are jarring for I can practically taste the metal as I pull them on. Focus in on one object. I will myself to just do, not feel, not think. It doesn't work.

Breath in.

Breath ou-

The shriek of a baby makes me gasp, it's three floors above me, the baby needs to be changed. A girl is getting mugged in the lobby down the block, the gun is a glock, the man has a bad heart. It sloshes instead of a steady beat. He needs a double bypass. The doorman is asleep, his breath a cocktail of cheap vodka and cigarettes. My head is pulsing, matching the rapidly climbing  rhythm of my heart. The muscles in my fingers- the lumbrical muscles- are vibrating at an alarming speed. My vision is getting blurry, my finger tips look blue. I remember.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Breath in. 

Breath out.

I read once when I was in college that a human being only uses 10% of their -our- brains. A girl, 22, with blue eyes, brown hair, a body mass index of 20.5, had asked what would happen if humans were to use 100%. The professor, a man, 45, brown eyes, gray streaked hair, weight of 175 had answered he did not know.  Remember.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Blink.

I was at work. I had arrived to the solemn printing company, the machines were howling making my brain rattle. I cut it off, they were no longer howling but were a dull buzz. 

Breath in.

Breath out.

Look around.

I saw strings. So many. Oh so many. It was a wonder I was not tangled in them. My boss, a woman, 52, gray eyes, grey hair, height 6'2 was covered in them, practically a puppet. Her heartbeat was at 70 beats a minute, her blood pressure at 95 over 75. The new intern, a girl of 17, green eyes, black hair, a mass in her neck had only 2. Her heart was barely a patter in her fluid filled lungs.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Focus.

I saw the movie credits running through my mind. I was sitting. New information running through it, my nose was filled with the stench of ink as new books were born. I stopped the credits, the scene with the professor was playing on replay in a small corner.  I brought it forward.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Go.

I was in the room again, watching the lecture. The dialogue played through, I moved to the front of the room, somehow making no motion. I ran my hand along one of the ancient computers. I traveled. Out, out, out. The small college blurred into cities, states, countries, planets. Earth spun, the endless tirades of wars becoming the greatest times of peace, the temperature rising and falling, humans' cries growing from a drone then back down to a theatrical silence. I knew, I knew, I knew. This was 100%

Breath in.

Breath out.

I climbed up the concrete stairs, the onslaught of people making it hard to breathe. I hated doing this everyday just to get to work and most days I ran just to skip this overbearing crowd but today I had no such luck. 'Almost there, almost there.' I thought to myself. I was being crushed against the wall since I was going against the flow of this oppressive wave. I could barely breathe, everything was way too loud, way too bright. I could hear snippets of conversation all melding together to form a loud buzzing that was making its' way from my brain to my toes and back again. I was swaying, was I? I was too pressed in from all sides to figure out if I was swaying. Something grabbing onto me, I barely felt it but I could clearly see a person in front of me maneuvering through the flood. Around the edges of my vision it was soft, colors were running into each other but the person in front of me was starkly detailed. Strong shoulders were snugly fit into a dusty pink jacket, dark curly tousled hair was bouncing with the force of pushing through more and more human beings, glimpses of golden skin blinked out at me every once in a while. It felt like hours before we got through but we did, we survived the tsunami of bodies. When I turned to look at the person who had saved me, I saw a beautifully constructed face. A strong jawline contrasted a delicate pair of full lips moving but I could not make out what they were saying, round green eyes looked worriedly at me, waiting for an answer I was assuming. I nodded, grounding myself into the cream colored walls of the hall I was in now. "I'm ok" I muttered standing straight, trying to not look so anxious. The forest eyes rolled in amusement and the soft petals of the lips crinkled upwards. "Alright shorty, don't make me save you again. Be careful." The stranger turned, smiled and waved a bit before turning the corner of the hallway, disappearing from my life forever. 

"hey I'm back" 

I heard him rattle the familiar chimes as he walked in through the blue colored door I had loved so much when I first moved in. "why are you even still here Luc-what are you holding?" He had entered my line of sight with armfuls of grocery bags. I put the book I was reading down and frowned. "what the hell is that?"I asked standing, confused and upset. He chuckled, his Technicolor eyes sparkling "heheh 'what the hell' funny" he set the bags down on the granite counter top. "and I would expect you to know what groceries are dearest" he teased, running a perfectly manicured hand through the midnight colored hair that hid his horns oh-so-well. "I know what they are but why do you have them?" I enunciated frowning, my arms crossing. "well I saw we were running low on a few things so I picked them up, not that big a deal" he shrugged, taking off the red blazer he wore so often. He carefully laid it across a chair, then looked up at the frown on my face."You're mad." he stated, no hint of remorse on his face. "Yea well that's what happens when you've got the devil staying at your house. Go figure." I rolled my eyes at the chuckle that resulted from my outburst. "oh c'mon-" "no. no fancy talking out of this one Lucifer-" "Lucy" "Lucy whatever, you said you were staying for a week, it's been a month! Not to mention you haven't even explained why you're in my house in the first place-" "I told you I can't tell you!" I yelled out, falling back onto the couch in exhaustion. I felt a presence sit next to me, and I clenched my jaw and fists. 

"Tell me what you're doing here or I will kick you out." I snapped, resolutely looking into the eyes that had damned so many to hell. I realized that this might be a mistake as he stayed silent, looking at me with the same intensity I was using.  "you won't kick me out." he said simply. "try me" I shrugged sitting back, crossing my arms. "look I know that you know who I am-" "well duh-" "let me finish" his voice took on an edge and I gulped nodding, my heart going a million miles. "You know who I am, and I'm sure that you know what I'm doing here." I tilted my head confused. "No, don't look at me like that. You know why I'm here." My head felt electric as I continued staring at him confused. My fingers were falling numb, as were my feet. The feeling was travelling up my body, my brain pounding away the rhythm my heart set out. My body was slumping against the soft material of the couch. I tried to open my mouth but found it hard to even breathe anymore. "You always knew why I was here dearest, you just chose to not believe it." I shook my head, feeling it lolling forward. I could have never chosen this. "Yes dearest, you chose to see the best of me. That was your mistake." He chuckled. The laugh that had once seemed so soft and full of warmth, was now ice cold and barren. I felt my consciousness slipping through my fingers, the rhythm was now stumbling, falling missing completely. The colorful eyes which before held mischief now were only full of an archaic hunger. I could feel nothing now, only see the cruel smile on the devil's face.

"Your mistake, your last mistake dearest"

"Who the actual f-u-c-k decided this would be a good idea? A man witch? A 'wizard'? What in all hells? Men cannot do anything deeper than shovel dirt!" The dark haired witch turns in her cottage, her dress barely missing the flames in her fireplace. They flare up, running their fingers along the smooth fabric encouraging her to continue. "How is this man suppose to make the most beautiful art of our-no-my magic and manage to not dirty it with his guns,his war. How is he suppose to see the spirits around him when he cannot look up from his money?" Her violet eyes flare with fury, her fists clenched into fists by her sides, small half moons forming on her palms from squeezing too hard. She turns back to her loyal audience. Plants of all sizes and shapes sit along a window sill, various birds sitting among and between them. Her fists fly up with a cackle. "Ha! A wizard indeed. This man is nothing other than a mere mundane boy who sees things he does not understand and wishes to overcome it. Well I will not- Nay!- will never help this disgusting boy 'wizard'." She lets the word drip from her upturned lips muttering all the way over the her favorite armchair. Her dark arms flying to and fro as she murmurs of how ridiculous this was. She lets out a frustrated huff falling into the maroon throne, running her hand along a vine that appears by her side. "Let him figure this out on his own, as so many men have done before him. To care not of consequences is mans' best feature..."The enchantress hesitates. Her devoted animals cock their heads. "but then...the whole land will be plagued with his foolish mistakes." This thought sent chills through her, her mind was running wild with thoughts of different spells that could go wrong with just a simple off beat pronunciation. The results of this impostor could be disastrous. She knows what she has to do but could hardly bring herself to say it. She stands, running a hand through her hair before nodding resolutely. She lets out a deep sigh.  "I suppose there's no way around it, I must help this boy if we wish to remain secure here." The pets spoke their agreement, a sparrow jumping up onto the magic masters shoulder. A smile spreads across her features. "Thank you dears, now how's for dinner? There's no use meeting this boy on an empty stomach now is there? The spirit will just not be the same." She turns picking up a cauldron and setting it on the fire, her features now form into the hard expression she hardly wears. She picks up her hair and starts cutting up ingredients. She shakes her head, puffing out an upset curse then stops. A thoughtful expression whisks across her face. She lets out a quiet giggle . "Men cannot do anything deeper than shovel dirt."

Jan. 15

6:23

There are people outside my house and I have no clue what is going on. Yesterday night the President set off a national alert to stay inside but the feed was whisked off the screen before she could explain why. So the public didn't listen to what they were told to do, big deal. This happens all the time right? Riots that make our country a laughing stock compared to everyone else. No. I won't normalize this. This is another level of disobedience. There are gunshots and shrieks that make my blood run cold and a symphony of glass breaking. I'm hiding inside hoping the deep red of the curtains is just the sun going down and not something more morbid. With all of the noise outside I'm surprised I can pick up the meager sound of groaning. This morning it sounded high, like the sound was being ripped out of a child. When the crashing got louder it got lower, a deep vibration that moved along the ground and reached me in waves. Now it's a backdrop to the madness, the metronome of this orchestra of chaos.