The INBETWEEN M!LL!EE RAEE
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The Inbetween
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x(Intro) Dedicated to my brothers, our proximity truly inspires my greatest lines
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Designer: Mathieu Liu Typeset:Constantia, IBM Plex Mono, FF SubMono OT, Ardeco 4
Table of Contents
Gifts 6 2020 Vision 8 Palm Sunday 10 Until Eternity Peels 12 My Friend Blue 14 “La La La La” 16 Picking flowers in my neighbor’s lawn
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“Duvet” 20 Where Have The Children Gone? 22 Gifts Pt. 2 24 Mantras 26 “Good Days” 28 Closing Acknowledgments
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Gifts
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“Gifts”
of a fold, the replenish With each twitch th wi es go d an s sh come the shed of a la of a new mile
A decimal shifts as slow as a back yard snail the farther it mo ves, the pull of its view
These lenses were especially curated, for your shipment requires a hand delicate enough to capture the embrace of a fly and patient enough to sit still for it’s offer
Whatever fixture you reposition, whatever situation you decide to break chord to it’s up to you to press
Or *SNAP*
So with a new vision, A spirit is born
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2020 Vision My 2020 vision never been more clearer Finally facing different entities that stay up in my mirror Year of, exposing the public figure seeing the bigger picture, no longer truth will whisper only if you fit the slipper everything is closing down, can’t believe so I wrote it down return of the killer clown when you go and hear that purge sound blind leading the blind poking out all of your eyes my rhymes reflecting the time leave all the nonsense behind cleaning up all the litter when heavy hitta spit a truth elixir.
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Palm Sunday “Palm Sunday”
Lines on my palm I see the connection
We used to read them like psalm, life’s proverbs on Palm Sunday.
What’s bound to happen to us?
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Until Eternity Peels Still against my will shall I sit still a task for today, a task for tomorrow won’t let me rest until the charts fulfilled the moon naps and my gaze is captured. Now what? When will tomorrow’s task come to collect? Like dust on my window sill, sit still against my will ‘’Until eternity peels’’
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My Friend Blue I wonder if everyone has a friend that gets giddy over bad news? Would I be a bad friend to regret the day that I decided to sit next to Blue? It should’ve been a clue when Blue filled in our silence with frantic scribbles in a fresh agenda, jotting down recaps of my shortcomings. Like the time where I volunteered a blush worthy response in math class. Or the time when I said ‘’have a grape day!’’ instead of ‘’great day’’ to my neighbor who started school a week earlier than me. Blue goes the extra mile and turns these accounts into flashcards as I spiral down the second hand embarrassment of a memory that was otherwise forgotten. Blue only serves as a reminder of how ‘’It won’t come to an end’’ they won’t even pretend anytime we play house they shout ‘’Come on, you believe in that still?!?’’ I wish they were more like my cousin Joy, but she lives so far away. Joy only prances around on the holidays.
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Blue, bears the coldest embrace Blue, sticks onto me like a frozen koala bear Blue, I want you to know I dread playing with you
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“La La La La” “How does it feel?
nd you, To know I'm wrapped arou wrapped around you?
Love you, love you, love you”
-Ari Lennox
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Picking Flowers In My Neighbor’s Lawn How come my curiosity dares to be a martyr? For the berries that glisten like fine rubies speak to me through my neighbors metal divide Daring my hand to snatch at them like a thief in the night, even when a lick could cause my throat to swell. A power higher than mine has my will restrained allowing a moment to ponder “Were they ever sweet?” Maybe if my neighbor Sammy would’ve fed his pitbulls the soil wouldn’t have become poisonous. Striking the naive seeds before it could even hope to flourish, I won’t wallow in deafness to a sound command this time. I’ll leave these kinds of flowers alone. Even if the winter causes my stomach to curse at me for wasting a crumb, the berries would always be a valid waste for I know that hollow shells remain swallowed into the grass that now stands tall like the legs of storks. Into the same grass that my brothers fed my training wheels to that ultimately made me learn how to ride my bike that summer. I’m glad to have not eaten those berries, no matter how much my brother tells me how sleep will block out my stomach’s thunder. 18
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“Duvet” “And you don’t seem to understand, a shame you seemed an honest man And all the fears that you hold so dear, Will turn to whisper in your ear” —Jasmine Rodgers
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Where Have The Children Gone? The vibrations of the floor are obsolete once a platform for short tiny feet that tickled the house warm A wall that was once defaced with the drag of green crayola, is now absent A stinging scent of fresh paint announces itself as the trail of orange crumbs and syrup that kissed the floor are now replaced with the smear of water Lightning McQueen sits quiet and well behaved his lonely wheel tips, in need of a friend He once was embellished with stickers taken from the bowl at the doctor’s office, soothing the wail after being given a shot Unfamiliar with the characters he picked, figured it didn't matter, as long as it sticked Most of them are now peeled, old and brittle hold it, and you’ll witness the fall of it’s mache like the result of a scratch on a dry scalp She holds onto it, like when hesitating to clip the remains of a chipped fingernail Wishing that the house echoed still
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Gifts Pt. 2 Would you recognize an epiphany if you never endured pain? Would you trust advice from the wise who once stole from the blind who did not need judgement for they felt karma pinch them through their spine. Or do you sway to the lines like.. ‘’It’s because of her!‘’ ‘’It’s because of him!’’ ‘’It’s because we’’ ‘’we steadily burn up all of our sleeves’’ Don’t let the cycles of prototypes repeat
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Mantras
Tomorrow's mood is a mere by-product of the moves I make. I hold the power if I’ll laugh with today and be grateful for it’s joyful noise or wallow in the loathe of what could’ve been. I will be inspired. With my consistency, I shall motivate and from my successes I shall be remembered. It’s thanks to my reflection from yesterday. It’s thanks to me tomorrow. It’s thanks to me now. It's thanks to you. Our shadows expand
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“Good Days”
“Half of us are laying waste to our youth
Our youth is in the present.
Half of us are chasin fountains of youth, but it’s in the present now”
-SZA
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Photo: Alonso Rodriguez-Spencer 29
Closing Acknowledgments A huge thanks to everyone involved at Just Buffalo Literary Center for taking a chance on me and for providing a safe haven for creative thinkers to make projects like ‘’THE INBETWEEN’’ seem like a possibility. To the extraordinary Robin Jordan, for going above and beyond to not only inspire but to challenge my creativity to new lengths to take on a concept that I deemed abstract at the time. Not only was this my first completed project, but an enriching introduction to the Buffalo literacy and poetry community that in turn ignited my passion for creating art again. Thanks to my parents that bared with me during my various awkward pursuits to my ‘’ultimate form of self expression’’ I’m grateful to have been gifted with two nurturers that granted me the space to freely explore my horizon. I’m sure this will aid in preventing the ‘’should’ve, could’ve, would’ve’’ syndrome later on in my adult years. And an acknowledgment to my Godmother for her continuous support, although at one point I felt hesitant to share my pieces with your church when you invited me to perform. The platform only served to be the stepping stones for me to be open to receiving opportunities like these. And to the very sweet women that gave me their words of encouragement after showcasing my art in their place of worship. Your words acted as a form of a manifestation for this book to later on become a reality, and for that I offer my gratitude.
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And last but not least, thanks to my mentors Matthew Bosque and Kevin Kline for giving me the incentive to go through Just Buffalo Literary Centers application process. That resulted in my Senior year of High School commencing on the ultimate high note by being granted the opportunity to be selected for this fellowship program. And to every instructor and guidance counselor at Buffalo Center For Arts and Technology, keep believing in the students that come through BCAT’s classrooms. -M!LL!EE RAEE
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