Im Coming Home

everything i love, i lose..
Lord,
Please dont take this away from me.
you wont, if happy is what you want me to be
i mean, you do want me to be happy right?
he sent me an 'i love you' text before bed last night
it made me smile
it hurt a little bit cause my busted lip but the high was all the same
he's my drug
my love bug
Lord you commanded me to love, remember?
im only doing what you asked me to do.
i love him and he loves me too
we even sit up sometimes and talk about you
we go to church together and we praise you
i even make sure to put on a little bit more make up Sunday mornings
careful not to distract you with the purple around my left eye
he loves me.
i know he does.
he called me this morning and told me,
after apologizing for slapping me yesterday
was the price paid for laughing too loud while watching Kevin Harts Laugh at my Pain
it was funny! i didnt mean to disturb him
i'll control the decibels of my laughter next time
he loves me...
he loves me...
he loves me is what i told myself then in a state of carnal madness
bathing in sadness leaving the truth collecting dust on my night stand
recording poems on garageband while my bible sat still burning underneath the lamp by my bed
the book i once read, daily
no if ands or maybes
through the blood of Jesus Christ i was once redeemed by the hands of the devil
somehow ive lost my way...
bounded in carnal handcuffs
mouth duct taped with darkness
mummified in sin
traded tithe and 2 hours in church
for a stack and 2 hours in the strip club with other people who hurt
because they understand my pain... right?
wrong.
for too long...
in a whirlpool of self destruction
and all i want is to be saved
because i cant seem to save myself
dying inside and now outside like everyone else
somehow ive lost my way...
transitioning from feeling hopeless
to rearranging my focus... on you.
i dont remember how it happened
i dont know how i got this far
and im not even sure why your mercy has kept me here...
but what i do know... is...
with my bible serving as my map
i will find my way back
yours is the love that i long for
yours is the comfort i need
im coming home.

The Mistake

Roughly handled
Dismantled body left to rot, post a regretted scandal
After a night of unaccounted events
alls thats left behind is remorses scent
Excuse me as I use this poem to vent about men who can't seem to see past the shaft that sits at the tip
So quick to strip and attack the neck and the nip
Biting lips
nibbling on that, touching on this,,,
In my head I see small clips like im watching a movie.
Cause this shit only happens in the movies right?
time's invested as hes charms you...
Disarms inner alarms to
Collect a bragging right.
turn out the lights and let me whisper to you these lies
so in the morning you'll despise everything i am
and still find yourself searching for the man that i claimed to be
Stupid girl.
For a second I forgot the ways of the world.
With my guard down and the tune of this deceiving sweet sound I hadn't noticed that I'd been operating under a state of hypnosis til I awoke semi comatose
I let him get too close
Far too close.
And I can't remember how it happened.
vision impaired even as my face wears prescription glasses
a student again in one of life's fucked up classes.
Clouded judgment
Fogged decisions
all made with good intentions and hopes of precision.
... but Ive failed...
you can tell.
and im embarrassed... An explanation I have but it wouldn't matter if I shared it.
You've already judged me...
Instead of respect and love me.
This wasn't part of the plan.
Floating on your promises encrusted with your words
... and im drowning
I trusted you.
I am holding this pen cause your hidden agenda
Has hurt me beyond the ability to ignore at this present moment enough to bend the
rules.
two can play that game but as expressed before im just a student in life's class taking notes so again i dont play the fool.
Hopefully one day... I'll forget
but until i meet that day i'll again respond with love so that it is love that i beget
Betrayal leaves some of the deepest wounds
It hurts now, but trust, i will be healed.... soon...
this is all my fault
because it was i that made a horrible mistake.

She's Done It Again

i used to think that i couldnt find my way back to feeling for someone.
used to think that the damage that had been done
had won
... and then i met you.
never thought that finding my way back would be so simple a task
funny, i never thought to ask.
my mind insists on directing montages of you
harvesting illustrations of you in my subconscious,
booking you for shows in my dreams
predilection seems to comfortably accompany the themes
i wish you could feel the way my heart contracts when we make eye contact.
she beats louder than a lambeg in pursuit to translate to you a message i cant seem deliver verbally,
yet i preferably choose to retain this to myself.
i wish you noticed me.
foreign is my idiom to the silhouette of the man for whom i seem to have fallen for.
so i am left with no other choice but to play the role of a who woman demonstrates no emotional interest
administering a misrepresentation of what inside is real
simmering in a jacuzzi of insanity consorted with feelings that i didnt authorize
and cant seem to ostracize
what a surprise.
my heart has done it to me again.

H.O.E

rotting in the stench of her flashback's piss
mind gone
sequestered in the lasciviousness of her thoughts and shit
bliss turned to that
and
that turned to this
cant seem to win so she takes what she gets
hit or miss
like or diss
and she settles because inside lies lies she was told when she just 8 years old
you're ugly
you're stupid
you'll never be good enough...
followed by the trespassing of cold foreign fingertips uninvitedly introducing themselves to virgin lips
that cant speak
h.o.e
with cheeks dressed in her tears streaks
as it happens over and over…
during the day she's a child who plays and searches for four leaf clovers
and at night she's a prisoner to the nights that seem to keep getting colder
she grows older
having believed everything they once told her
a prisoner of her past
a bitch with no class with a large mass in her heart taking up any space left for healing
numb, her flesh has lost all feeling
h.o.e
on her back is where she lays, even with girls but she's not "gay"
just give her a little drink and i bet she's down to play
with a once had relationship with God gone astray
so lost in the world she forgot how to pray
legs spread, then he busts and she begs him to stay…
they never do though.
its nothing new though.
maybe the next one will tomorrow.
nothing more than a mans play thing
a toy
a lost soul with a map to be freed from life's trap chills in her back pocket
in a glass jar floats her joy
she wasn't always this way
h.o.e
physically mentally and emotionally abused
used
bruised bleeding and confused
she's run out of band aids
gashed, walkin round with open wounds.
morals are absent
she speaks fluently, no accent
but still one cant overstand the facts in her actions
it all turns black when she attempts to get back in
the more sex she's haven the more money she's stackin
on the task of freeing herself she's slackin because to her its just a thought, so its easier to pass when…
you're…
h.o.e
suckin and fuckin
dodgin and duckin
shooting aimlessly to erase the permanent skid marks from her memories underwear
she strolls in yesterdays attire with the odor of burnt blunt wraps and sex left behind in her hair
still lit from the night before so she doesn't notice the stares
all she recognizes is the same feeling of 'i don't care'
on life she gave up when it became too much to bare
angry inside because she feels like life wasn't fair
h.o.e
maybe's turn to idgaf's
in the mirror perfect eyebrows she plucks
perfectly applied lipstick to go get caught in some bullshit
in the back of her mind she's haunted by words spoken from the pulpit
she wasn't always this way.
she takes a step back and takes a look at her face
she is beautiful
beautifully broken
quite a sight for sore eyes
but she cant see it, all she sees in the mirror are the lies she tries to hide
conditioned
now she's deliberately hurting herself but cant admit it because of her pride.
h.o.e
she's h.o.e
hurting.over.everything.

Freedumb

i sit in mourning for bearing witness to the media hanging the truth by a noose repeatedly in our faces
we laugh at our own disgraces entertaining the tomfoolery not stopping to realize that it is you and me who are the joke.
it is we who carry a little bit more melanin in our largest organ that are put on display, made a fool of and played on our "own" tv channels.
2011 pickaninnies
hypnotizing you with money, shiny bling and nice cars
all that by far, dont belong to them and are unknowingly ripped from their grips when the episodes are done and its time for the commercials to rerun,
their dreams look like your dreams and as we all wish to trade places old alabaster faces are sitting on panels making OUR life's decisions
what we eat, how much we pay at the gas pump, what jobs we can and cant have.
mentally imprisoned,
but we sit back watching another episode of the Basketball Wives on tv during these discussions, and complain when its time to suffer the repercussions of our own self inflicted ignorance.
no one fights, so we live our lives in defeat
refusing to retreat, sit back, take a seat and rummage through the garbage for the truth,
or maybe some of us do but just dont give a fcuk..
so
we continue
living up to the stereotypes and their lowest standards wondering why they're able to acquire and obtain more than we do.
left blinded by the "American Dream" that leaves us all still dreaming
because it wasnt meant for us to see with our eyes open unless we're watching them live it
to get even close would mean that our eyes would have to remain closed...
was once sold wolf tickets by them sailors on those slave ships and to this very day we still hold on to their words like its gold.
like from their lips lies have never been told.
painfully waiting in high hopes like fatherless children staring through foggy windows knowing but not knowing in their hearts that daddy is going to come home.
some day.
wake up.
148 years later still in chains that eyes can see if one looked hard enough
not the ones strapped around our wrists binding our fists
but ones we smile and allow them to cling on us as we see fit
with every ebt card in every wallet,
and any other aid labeled "free" designed to kill our families.
victims of animal conditioning
we have become Americas herd being slayed by their judicial system and tortured by their jail cells
labeled a threat to society
in a country that never practiced proper propriety.
the truth can only be seen through eyes that want to see it
heard from ears that want to hear it
spoken from lips that want to share and dont fear it.
brains are being washed clean as desires to come into possession of truth are left buried 6 feet deep next to the skeletons of the leaders who fought and died for our wings
i wouldnt be surprised if theyre turning in their graves as we wash away the road to freedom that was paved for us by bloody feet scarred by their journey and bare hands.
died what seems to be in vain for a community that gains entertainment from the visual slaying of its own people..
palms no longer carry the torch.
its been washed away with our dignity
for a few dollars and some change
for the spotlight and gold chains and the expense of the knowledge of our people and our youth
at the expense of our freedom and our truth.
everyone is watching but no one is listening
everyone is facebooking but no is researching
we're killing and not rebirthing
we're dumbing, numbing
and we're not learning.
its sickening.
where is the cure to the plague of this new found Freedumb?

Confessions of a "Pretty" Girl

Cinnamon skinned
Belizean blend
Lord please send me an angel
cause
Mommy works 16 hours days and I only know one way to make fry jack
I gotta feed my younger sister and brother and be strong for my mother
cause
My older sister moved out young.
Please tell her I love her and I miss her
Oh, and can you ask her why she left.
I almost got arrested for petty theft but the officers let me go.
They said I was too young and too pretty to go to jail.
Lord, what does pretty mean?
I mean, I hear boys say it to girls all of the time at school, but they never say those words to me.
They never say those words to me.
Well, he did one time, after he touched me.
He smelled funny and he was old.
It made me cry so I told.
I told.
Lord where is daddy and why did daddy leave?
How come now everyone tells me im pretty except for he and he looks like me?
How come he didn't come save me when my co worker drugged me and stole kisses
Where was my daddy when I threw the punches and made misses.
The thief called me pretty too.
It made me cry so i told.
I told...
and they didnt believe me.
Lord, I dont want to be pretty anymore. It hurts too much.
I didnt know pretty meant an invite to take what you want and touch
And such.
Existing in a world where im afraid of what men are capable.
Incapable of...
Trusting.
Wanting one, but fearing them all
Resting on broken pavement from the last time i got knocked down
Not wanting to get up
Saving myself from another fall
or am i?
Adams broken rib
Whose broken heart was given a bus token by Life
and told to get the fcuk on.
Pretty in pain
Collectively insane
Looking at my scar's left behind stains
Crying cause pretty was an accomplice to the murder of the little girl I used to be
Now look at me
The adult me walking blind
The little girl inside i cant find.
A mess in red patent leather pumps and a black dress
Suffering from a heart condition because of the stress
Loving myself more, to death
and everyone else less
The walking dead in a bullet proof vest
My own worst enemy.
Please, Help me.
My pretty is trying to kill me.

Welcome to LA

perfect weather
accompanied by
gum stained sidewalks and
the stench of stale urine
door knockers
bad hair weaves
beemers, impalas and mc's
rims and window rattling beats.
where weed is the cure
young girls no longer pure
prostitutes asleep in the streets
and …
cries of the homeless for coins from the less homed
cars chromed
women cloned
kids droned
brainwashed.
spiritual clocks broken.
so time is stopped
while insanity travels full speed
ahead
love is dead
strongly desired is
lots of sex, bomb head
resulting in
baby mama drama a baby daddys karma
drown it in alcohol
at
one of the homies functions
haunted by the streets betrayals
and broken homes dysfunctions
numb screaming fcuk love
while chasing love
lost souls yearning for hugs
thugs praying for a litte bit of comfort
outside alls seen is heartache in eyes of these heartless soldiers
life grows colder for the lost angels who grow older
life’s lessons are lessened
zombies repeating the same mistakes
learning by trial and error
guessin
dreams turn to wishes
where men are hoes and women are bitches
where money, power and respect
trumps
love, spirituality and intellect
reality seen in retrospect
sexual partners recycled
deadly
forever repeating this cycle
.… and no one is paying attention.

Welcome to LA

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