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Criticize me. Brother. For we are not the same. Keep that hatred pouring outward, Because, you are not to blame.   You see things in black and white, For you know not much more.
The other day one of my friends said to me "Jaz...you have no idea how many guys check you out whenyou walk by.  I found that really intersting.  Considering that here, int he Midwest I don't feel beautiful. 
What if today was the first and last time you met me?  Would you be able to have a conversation with me?  Would you be able to look past my complexion and my intonation? Never once looking at the span of my hips 
Write-wash   Why do I write? I write so that my caged thoughts can take flight. So that my lyrical mind can unwind around the spherical bind of reality-- See, with me—I am far from the normality.  
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