If I could tell you all the words I really want to say. 
    
       Spell out all the feelings and emotions, rising, brimming, spilling.

If I could tell you all the words I really want to say instead of the vile poisonous jibberish that topples out,


                                                          If I could 'remove message' every meanly modulated word that came out of my mouth like I can on Skype, 

    If there were a drop-down language option to transliterate emotion to word.  From mind to pen. 

Put pen to paper.

If I could know that you really heard me the same way you R'd a bbm message, 

If I could courier you my thoughts running free and wild in my mind, have you sign off when you receive it.  

Three  Ten business days later.

If I could source code all the anger.

Show you the bits that matter.

I would.     Without question. 

Without pause.

Without wax.

1 month ago --

[written in the moments after finding out]

[after a vigil, sitting alone]

I am proud of myself in many ways, but at the same time I fear for myself. The killings make me fear for myself and for my family, be it blood or otherwise. 

I am waiting for Isa to come back. I wish she hadn’t gone to that place, I don’t think its worth it; her love is worth more than that. 

Taj knows everything. This is how I know she is my sister. That it is fair for me to consider her family. I let her see things about me, and I let myself be honest with myself around her. It is the only thing that Taj demands of me, is that I be honest. Her password is “I am enough 786!” and that is why I love her. Of course it is her password, of course she is good enough, and look, look how we have more than enough. 

[IT IS FUNDAMENTAL TO MY SURVIVAL AND LIBERATION THAT I BELIEVE IN MORE THAN ENOUGH.]

-- chapel hill night