There was too much soot and ash in my footsteps
Too much sizzle, pop, and burn
Too many bones behind me, licked clean by my flames
Too much guilt
And too guilty to deserve relief
So I gave myself pain instead of water
I used to watch my blood flow like brush strokes
All that shame hiding in the chiaroscuro
Draping itself across my skin like Carravaggio's robes in ominous shadow
Tracing lines with razor, or pocket knife, or shard of glass
In the shape of a great wave over mount Fuji
That was how I learned to flow
Sometimes I feel like my whole life is an apology
I'm sorry I'm here
I'm sorry I'm not dead yet
I'm sorry I didn't have the courage
Or the conviction
Or the strength in my forearm flexors
Or the humility
To just end
And I'm reminded daily by these clawing demons searching for a voice
Or a soul to lift a silence that was more necessity than choice
And when they scratch up my soft palette sometimes my uvula reacts
And my stomach clenches violently and my neck tenses around my gasp
And my heart explodes inside my chest, and my lungs start to collapse, and an age of violence echoes through the trembling of my grasp
And then I breathe fresh air as if life could begin again
Because despite what I may be, I have to live with what I've been
Your breath was life
But also poison
Your teeth hurt so good
And shined pretty with my blood glistening on the sharp ends
I'll take you with me
Where your teeth dug into my skin and left a reminder I'll never forget
I carry you with me in the scars on my neck and back
It took only a moment for you to Phoenix me in your fire
I'm glad you did
You gave me my wings again
Clipped and broken, barren and singed
But I learned again
how to fly that night
For all the wrong reasons
This riot stands on the backs of a generation
That learned self defense from traffic stops
That learned hope by watching it crumble
That learned love at funerals and grave sites
There is a riot on the wind
Sweeping over bodies that always seem to be camouflaged by the night
Over stomachs and hands branded with the pattern of emptiness
Rushing through hallways with broken light bulbs
Picking up the stench of cocaine or heroine
This riot is not sneaking up on you
Feel the streets trembling, See the dust rise
If I am ever hostage
Or prisoner
Or the unlucky son of a war that started without my permission
You may have to mourn me
But do not damn yourself for my liberty
If you do, I'll never know peace
And freedom without peace is agony
And damnation
And victory without honor
Is worth less than hungry rubble
And he loses all to think that he could have them both, and live two lives
And be one man
The push and pull divides
The thought from hand,
The conscious man from lies
The contraband of a conscious damned, despised,
Separated from the life he fantasized
And thought was real, and thought he had
Splitting his one soul into two dead halves
Leaving him nothing to offer and everything to lose
And so he has no choice but still is damned to choose
But all he can do is slip, trip, and fall
And I think back to the weakness that started it all
When a star collapses in brilliant supernova,
It creates a black hole
An abyss
That takes everything in and nothing out
A black hole sounds like "I'm fine"
When it really means "I don't don't don't want to talk about it"
A black hole feels like a smile you wish was genuine
It tastes like tongues as they carry your words back down your throat
Sometimes I'm just a black hole
Remembering what it was like to be a star
Looking for a light I can't consume
And on those days, give me poetry
If you've never held a gun against your skin
If you've never prayed to a blade for your blood to resurface and water the flowers
If you've never seen a body twitch
If you've never felt the tears stream
Then maybe your heart didn't stop today when you read the news
Maybe you were surprised to learn that even brown boys get the blues
Don't get confused
We may not always broadcast our suffering
But sometimes we do be dropping clues
As bright as the universe gives permission to become
All strength, all brilliance, all power, presence, and pull
The vessel crammed to the brim with light and love
And pain and passion, enough to spill across the sky
How do we find the room for it all?
A goddess caught in calm stillness of thought
A gift for those who seek of marble and light
The beauty sought, the weathered world has wrought
And gained the will to forge new day from night
Look now, to witness grace by Grace made real
And watch while water parts and turns to wine
She waits in bliss while whispers rise and heal
And bloom like honeysuckles on the vine
How safe, the world under your gaze must be
How warm, the day at rest in your embrace
How new, the light, that needed you to see
How easily the fading dark disarms
How lovely how the earth accepts its gifts
Exchanging flowers for showers as it shifts
So what do I do when my love won’t let you leave, but my pride won’t let you stay
See, that’s the battle that’s waging inside me, and I don’t even know what I’m fighting for
Anymore
And you, you’re just a soldier with no war
So we just fight with each other
Or, really I’m just dodging bullets and ducking for cover
While you just point out every new flaw that you discover
See you’re acting just like my mother
Like when she left my dad
And she was all he had
And he was never really that bad before that
And you just laugh at my dad’s past as if it was some kind of an act
or a play to you
And now everything I ever wanted to say to you – I can’t
Cause I’m too scared to go out on that limb
And I’m scared of being left again on a whim
And I’m so scared that without you, I’ll turn into him
Now we're
Buffalo soldiers on the come back
Black bodies ducking behind registers and snacks
Even after the railroads been closed
Since the days of old, it still tracks
The theme we've been seeing
In this scene is still attacks with the aim to kill blacks
The story keeps starting back at the beginning
See, Irrational numbers have no ending
Just like irrational hate
So we have to still wait
Hoping for a rational fate
Meaning that this irrational state
Will come to a rational place
And the irrational numbers
Of dead father's and brothers
Will eventually Terminate
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