Trap Door
A cold breeze covering my chest, Sending chills down my spine.
Watching what we had fading like time easing.
Thought we were ever lasting but you’re forever changing.
Going from everything I want to nothing I need.
Should of listened to my friends, they saw it coming like a prophet.
Telling me to put my feelings in pocket.
Stay solid.
Watch who you fall for, but I can’t help who I fall for.
It’s like a trap door.
Stuck between these floors.
Can’t escape these flaws.
It’s like I’m coming home from war.
Post dramatic stress.
I don’t get a lot of rest cause when I see the sun set, I see you.
Black Man
I’m black but also human.
I’m a man but I also have emotions.
Can’t show no fear but I’m freighted.
A bullet can come my way, from a cop or op that looks just like me.
Deep down, I struggle with that notion.
I want to see everyone grow.
Be the best that they can be but we fight these burdens of everyday life.
It’s layered on top of us.
Layers that prevents us from seeing our true self.
They say we’re hiding but we’re buried.
Suffocating, gasping for air but no one hears.
Or do they even care cause we’re men that are black and the odds are always stacked.


Super Women
You can be vulnerable, that don’t make you weak.
Wearing a cape for so long you forget about your needs.
Your soul needs to feed.
What you see on the feeds only impedes,
Take your own lead.
Dismiss the stares and whispers.
You can can cry yourself a river.
No need to hold on, that only makes you bitter.
Remember those figures that didn’t listen to your tears but expected you to wipe theirs.
You gave your all but it’s never returned.
Going on like reruns.
Using and abusing, Never no healing.
When will it be done.
You carried a ton.

Endless Cycle
You hurt me and I hurt the next.
It’s how the game goes.
It flows with no remorse.
Leaving hearts in parts.
All out of sorts.
Love is an art but pierced in the process.
Everyone moving on without healing from the ex, hurting everybody next.
It’s an endless cycle; different variables.
Lost
I lost the hunger but still have the love.
Split between the two.
Who I was and who I am.
Trying to find a common, that area filled with caution.
Is that trauma or am I just hiding ?
Hiding from the fact I can’t reach certain heights.
Is this lack of preparation or perspective ?
Im destined but my story is still being written.
I can choose any path but I don’t have no sense of direction.
I am lost.

Impression
Born in a less than ideal situation.
Having to find a way to elevate when you only see devastation.
Learning to be a better person when you only see questionable foundations.
And don’t you dare think differently.
You’ll be singled out and shamed.
Stay in a child's place is all they paint until it’s stained.
What you speak will cross everyone's ear frames.
Can’t even be confined to a parent.
Your feelings will be displayed on a canvas and they wonder why our trust vanished.
Now opening up is so phantom.
Their lack of loving, patience, and directions makes us less equipped for future relations.
Choosing yelling over communication.
Leaving us with no understanding of our transgressions.
Not knowing who we become is a reflection of their lack of preparation.
Forcing us to grow up too early.
Not mentally but with responsibilities.
Hindering our possibilities.
Encasing us in their own Insecurities.
Highlighting similarities from a parent with ongoing hostilities.
Basing our capabilities on theirs.
That ain’t fair.
We ain’t ask to be here, we’re products of two toxic pairs who don’t know how to actually care.
Ain’t saying the love ain’t there but there’s certain ways a child needs to be love that parents are unaware.
Fragile
I know you’ve been hurt.
Years of your emotions being dispersed.
Hardly handled with care.
All your fears being amplified from a significant that’s suppose to crystallize your worth.
Instead they impede your growth.
Leading you on when they have an unquenchable thirst.
Dragging your feelings through the dirt while they plant seeds all across the earth.
Soul ties from holes you never been expose to.
Now you’re all vulnerable.
Hiding behind a blunt or a few.
Taking shots to escape the view.
Blacking out so you can’t feel what you been through.
Your pain is visible.
I can see it all in your eyes.
It’s okay, you let it out.




Long Run
Imagine having no balances on ice.
Slipping and falling with no directions.
Any different odds like a roll of dices.
It’s a forming of a deep connection.
Mind, body and emotions are invested.
You put every bit of yourself into them.
It’s clear to you that they are so precious.
To the world, you’re just underneath their thumb.
Fearing you lost sight of who you were.
Thinking you are still that boy who’s naïve.
The girl down the street, they so much prefer.
When you already came across your Eve.
Deep down in your soul, you know their the one.
Through all the storms, you’re here for the long run.
Lost
Living in the present but stuck in the past.
Reminiscing of the time we had but these memories are only dreams.
You was gone before they can be.
Gone with the wind but I hear you in the breeze.

Even though I can’t remember how you sound.
Being your son, I’m proud but it comes with a lot.
Your image is splattered across my life and I fear that I can’t complete the portrait.
I look just like you but I can’t be you.
I’m shackled to you cause I’m a product of you.
I struggle to step out of your shadow cause you’re my light even in the darkness.
I wanna shine for you.
This was so beautiful
dear daughter, this is for the day when you first stand in the shower, with eyes producing more water than the shower itself, and try to scrub your skin off. using all your might as if they were the chains you were once bound too and desperately need to free yourself from. firstly honey, your black is neither burden nor boundary it is a key that reveals so many treasures if you’d just persevere until you find the right doors. what are you trying to do with your caramel coloured skin of soft buttery texture that has been churned through generations of hardships to produce this fine product of supreme quality called you? don’t you know your hair is an enchanted forest, each kink and curl creating it’s own unique magic to keep your well deserved crown in place? my baby, you are royalty and ignore the white’s dictionary definition of humility, it is not stripping yourself of your crown to avoid being the subject of jealously and envy. that big, beautiful forehead of yours is filled with a lifetime of substantial knowledge and always be proud of your luscious lips that reflect the enormity of love you have to share. don’t be afraid of your already thick thighs in preparation for the day they become your own daughter’s pillow to cry into and confess all her secrets too. finally my star, have i not always showed you how bright you glow, so why did you allow them to burn you out? if i could not make you love yourself, open your eyes to see how beautiful you truly are then how could you give them permission to teach you how to hate your black then learn the lesson so well?
Truly love
My phone don’t ring but everybody loves me.
When I’m distant, all I hear I’m moving funny.
Questioning my silence but my body language speaks loudly.
If you loved me you would see that my mind is cloudy.
That my eyes is forecast for rain but I’m forcing delays.
That my energy is off it’s relay.
That my demons are having a field day.
I can’t shake the thoughts I’m having these days but I aspect someone who loves me to detect.
Sometimes you have to detach to reattach.
Isolate to medicate but no one understands that.
They want you to shine through all your darkness.
Evaluate them while you’re deteriorating on the inside but they love you.
How could you love me and not sense my imbalance.
Maybe it’s the mask I’m wearing but I thought love can conquer all.
Why couldn’t your love slip through the cracks?
Have a flanking attack or is that to much to ask?
Maybe you don’t truly love me.