jesus-these-are-hot

PSA: ok but if you ever think i’m ignoring you, i’m not. i just take seven years to reply and i also get overwhelmed really fast. plus whenever i’m getting to drafts or things in my ask, that’ll always result in me taking even longer to reply to things such as im’s or skype messages. so if you see me posting things, even a mass amount of things, and i haven’t replied to you, don’t take it personally. i will reply to you eventually. also, if i haven’t replied and you see me just randomly posting it probably means i’m just not in the mood for speaking. but i will never ignore you. so don’t think that. i will always get to you in the end, just be patient with me please.

“slaveship” by Lucille Clifton

loaded like spoons
into the belly of Jesus
where we lay for weeks for months
in the sweat and stink of our own
breathing
Jesus
why do you not protect us
chained to the heart of the Angel
where the prayers we never tell
are hot and red as our bloody ankles
Jesus
Angel
can these be men
who vomit us out from ships
called Jesus Angel Grace of God
onto a heathen country
Jesus
Angel
ever again
can this tongue speak
can this bone walk
Grace of God
can this sin live


Poem: http://www.pleasecomeflying.com/2007/10/lucille-clifton-slaveship.html

Art: “An Unpeopled Land in Uncharted Waters” by Kara Walker

http://www.wyomingnews.com/entertainment/university-of-wyoming-exhibits-explore-race-and-national-pride/article_a126f41a-c720-11e5-9fed-777ab893de6c.html

Everything I Didn’t Say pt. 2 Mikey

(part 1)

“We are going to get you laid tonight!” your friend, Meredith yelled, already tipsy from the last two and a half beers she had drank.

“I don’t think—“

“Y/N, you have not even looked at another guy since Michael Clifford. He’s not that great. So what he’s in a famous band?” she asked, sloshing around the beer in her hand, spilling some on the carpet in your bedroom. You sighed, ignoring it and putting on mascara, thinking about all the ways you could get out of tonight. “Or that his eyes are like greener than the grass in Summer? Or the fact that he plays guitar with those fingers!”

“Mer!” you yelled, spinning around. “Am I the one getting over Michael or you?”

“Sorry, sorry. He’s hot.”

“Jesus Christ,” you said under your breath. It had been almost another month since you had last seen Michael and a little over two and a half since you had broken it off with him. Meredith threatened to literally slash the tires on your car if you didn’t go out on New Year’s Eve and try to have some fun with her. So you slipped on a black dress, threw on a pair of heels, and complained almost the entire time.

You were still hopelessly in love with Michael and didn’t know if you could continue on in this endless pattern of tears and tissues. He had reached out to you many times since he’d come to your house. You made the mistake of answering one of his calls which ended up in lots of tears and rushed I miss yous but ended in you pushing him away.

“You’re gonna get that kiss when the clock strikes 12 and then you’re gonna get some dick by at least quarter after,” Meredith said, watching as you stood up and grabbed your purse.

“Let’s get this over with,” you said.

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