A field of Lunar flowers; a field of far off notions
Each delicate petal a secret emotion.
When they fall do they whither. Will they perish, will they rot as if interred?
Or bloom like watered seeds and nourish this Lunar world.
©Kwamè “Amir” H.
Illustration by Keira Hampton IG:@thebiblasianblerd
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I couldn’t resist staring into the perpetual night sky.
Resting under the tree of knowledge, I feel so alone.
I contemplate just who am I, living right or dying wrong?
What’s the weight of my accomplishments?
My mind conflicted with the who’s and whys.
If time is God given, what do I get if I just want to split?
The mirror is no longer black and white, which of the reflection is true
So much on the line, from you I can’t hide
The pain you see in my eyes.
How many worn smiles do I still have stashed?
Just how much of me is still left from a broken past?
This life of mental woes and sickness;
I vomit the shells of the bullets I’ve had to bite
Is heaven truly what the churches advertise? Is hell the reflection of what’s inside?
Living hurts so why not attempt suicide?
I’m not swayed by the consequence or shame
Just the will to survive
The snake and I speak parseltongue,
I swallow the truth in his lies
No Eve, no fruit, just him and I
As we sip champagne on the darkest side of the moon of this barren Eden.