love, me.

where have we been? where have we gone?

up to this moment, what’s right and what’s wrong?

in suspension, so apprehensive.

the only thing i can do, is be the one who loves you.

all trust has been lost, so we start from zero.

counting the cost, and becoming your own hero.

everything is a blur, illusions abound.

no running, no jumping on the merry go round.

the light and the dark, the good and the bad.

the joy in your eyes, the ache when you’re sad.

the gifts and the talents, the pain and the malice

the temptation to just throw the whole thing away

easily be the victim and everyone else is to blame.

but you made the choice, chose to hide and not voice,

the power and sovereignty you submitted to formalities.

to gods and men, both white and black

until it was your self that was under attack.

deconstruct, decolonize, denounce all you know,

just a seed that’s been planted and starting to grow.

your roots will grow deep as you stretch for the sun,

Spirit and ancestors shield their precious chosen one.

breaking curses, chains and traditions of men,

like a phoenix you rise, a star in the heavens.

gratitude, breathe and release the trauma,

surrender, love and flow through the drama.

you are beautiful, wonderful so creative and free,

you’ve finally learned to love, me.

scream

inside of me is a bellow.

a shriek that pierces the heavens,

yet echos against the bars of this prison im in.

me sick of you and the filth of me.

so loud, filled with pain and fear.

just cuz im grown that dont mean i cant hear,

that bellow inside of you spilling tears.

heartache filling up like rivers in the cracks of you

of me

inside of me too.

i scream.

fragility’s rage

For some the pain of frustration leads to a tumult

of tantrums and a verbose vomit spewing of anger and hate.

Shattering the heart – yet building walls.

Constructed by cold avoidance and confusion,

yet picked away by a romantic gesture or two.

A fickle memory born of words better left unsaid.

Heavy hands upon a tender child desiring mother’s love.

Perhaps ones formative years indeed defines today.

Fragility’s rage

is a tortoise in its shell

When danger comes, pull in, don’t run like hell.

Flashbacks and words fall upon that shanty,

Accusations now muffles within the cramped cavity.

But when no one is looking fragility’s rage

is like a magicians token quote,

“no you see me, now you don’t.”

slip

everybody has love but I have nothing

i am weak, drained of every ounce of love.

my life’s blood the greatest thing I offer

pours out of me, overflowing every coffer.

yet when I grasp for a love of my own,

slip.

from my grip.

i am now numb.

a plant hardly watered,

is a plant undone.

beauty and the beast

ive had a long cool down.
lonely but not alone with you around.
out of the habit of loving you
like ive always wanted to.
not sure when i gave up, just kept you in a box
never to be opened up, i kept you on lock.
sometimes peeking with hope in my heart,
only to be bitten by your intemperate maw.
you were insecure, anxious, afraid and unpredictable,
i was passive, accommodating, patient and faithful.
everything that i am crushed under this weight,
buried down deep in the waste of your wake.
you were a beast, could i be the beauty?
surely i am flawed, building walls for security.
but its not your fault entirely, we’ve identified the imbalance.
prognosis and remedy giving you this last chance.