Not a 360, just a 180. Don’t aspire to be altered. Its grace I do not covet. Only if it could portray that which I possess. Perhaps exclude the blind spots and the unwanted hills. Not a 360, just a 180. Still, I desire to be myself. In a distinct frame. Perhaps a different dress. I need the very color. I don’t aspire to be altered. If only it could see the belle revealed to me. Only if it could portray that which I possess. Perhaps exclude the blind spots and the unwanted hills. Maybe just a 180 is enough. Change do I not covet, perhaps a foreign frame.
Thou glance behind on ages. And I the womb. Thy hand led me. If faced stone thou jumped. with thee, I jumped. If lay low, I laid low with thee. Slowly, thou path became mine. Confusion has beheld me, for I do as ye did yet fail at all costs. Attempted jumping yet the stone is exceedingly great. I tried laying low but there was no way out. Thou journey completed still I’m baffled in the midst. slid beneath the tree not perceiving it was deemed to raise me. I became thee in a path created for me.
Being the most eminent yet yearning to be in the deepest. If thou yearn for elsewhere are ye the most eminent? If thee hold content is it the deepest? The sea possesses many. Can thou glance at the heavens and question the stars? What exceeds the universe? Is it twilight? perpetual worlds? Thou asketh questions Thee do not fully understand and expect answers thou can comprehend. For how else can life exist on a rock? Thou design speculations and myths to define what thou know not. How can one question? if Thee can not perceive what you’re up against?
Raining yet no moisture, I just want to cut the ties. I’m counting seconds and minute hoping time flies. I was not pretending I promise I thought it was real. Pushed down my intuitions I wanted to feed my pride. I could bear it, so I thought it was meant to be. Played my role so well, believed I was in love. Don’t curse me, even if I leave I know I’m the prize. You gave me your all I gave you a meal. Don’t walk by my throne I need you to kneel. You made me promises up the heel. couldn’t see, couldn’t touch they were not your deal. I was committed believed I wanted to be your bride. My pride got in the way now I just wanna slide.
Why do you want to get lighter? There is nothing wrong with your skin color. Why do you want to erase your dark spots? why does it make you feel better if the dark spots become lighter spots? Why do you want to erase yourself? Why do you want to get surgery? your nose is the right size, your mouth is the right size, your jawline is the right size and shapes, your whole face is right for you. why then do you still want a longer and smaller nose, why do you want to look like an illusion? Your body has its natural shape why do you want a figure 8? what will curves give you? what will a big behind give you? is it eternal life? will this body get you to heaven? Do you not know that if you do not love this you that you have now you will never be satisfied with a surgical you? Why do you want to erase yourself? Why is your mind weak to the temptations of the world? Why do you want to change your self to be accepted? Why are you willing to be controlled by people of this world? A doctor can not seek advise to heal patients from a prostitute, a musician can not go to a scientist to teach them how to sing, but why do you go to celebrities to show you how to live? Why are you taking their advice? They are of this world. They are not going where you’re going. If you follow them you will lose your path. Why are you running away from your self?
You have forgotten me Your test labs have no morals Your schools lead my children astray Your hospitals are prisons Your rulers fight for thrones Your women don’t listen Your children have become ignorant Your hearts are selfish You have forgotten me You put things before me Your idols full in control You worship the flesh You oppress my people You deny me You call yourself god.
Dear God I’m ignorant Very ignorant. I choose not to know. I fear the power that comes with knowledge. I could not be worthy of your love. Not when all I do is hurt you. maybe it’s because you don’t have feelings. you’re too big so it’s okay for me to get high. To be honest sometimes… no, a lot of times I do things without considering how it would make you feel. You see my love is not great like yours, I don’t treat you like the only one. I know how, I just don’t want to. This is not love. that is why I don’t understand your love for me. you don’t love me like I love you. You don’t treat me like a choice. You don’t leave me hanging. You could have just watched me suffer for my decisions but you didn’t. You’re there when I need you, you give when I ask. You protect me in the midst of all. This is why I can’t understand your love. Because it’s not like mine. Your love is free, unconditional. My love comes with a price, always asking, always taking. I don’t give. Your throne is dusty and old in my heart I don’t take care of it. And yet you are here for me. When I know I don’t deserve it you still love me. I don’t have the courage to apologize. I know tomorrow I will sin again.
I don’t know what to do. Should I love you? Because you loved me first? Why can’t I just love you, not because you love me first but because I just fell in love with who you are? Why can’t you be my first love? I want it to be love at first sight, it doesn’t have to be both ways. I want to pursue you. Ask you for your email, I’d have your inbox full. When you see my determination and finally give me your number I want to call you every night. I want us to go on dates, just us two. I want to know your favorite creation. Before you love me, I want to love you. For who you are, for what you stand for, I want to love you first. But why is it so hard? Why must you do something for me to love you and praise you? Why can’t I love you because I just want to? Why is it so hard?
When I sit down and think, we are very different. That’s why I can’t comprehend you, because I don’t love like you love me. Sincerely, Me.
I want my words to praise you I want them to speak of the father who never left, a mother who always loved, a brother who always supported but most importantly the God who was it all. I want to talk about the love that can not be tamed. Teach me I want to write you. I want to write about the hands that framed me. From it’s palm to the finger tips. I wonder what it looks like. Are the nails long? When you make your hands into a fist does it look like mine? What is the color of your hands? I want to see your heart. The heart that loves even the worst of me. I’m constantly telling others to appreciate me while I neglect your heart. I want to be sincere, but I don’t know how. Teach me the words that describe your heart. At least I will be able to write it down even if I can’t comprehend it. I want to see the beauty that you see in this imperfection. I want to praise you, teach me because I want to hear it from you. Tell me what you want me to call you.
What is it that makes the poor man sell his last jewelry? Labor from dawn to dusk until he’s covered in his sweat. Until his body is worn out and his feet die from within. Until his arms fall on his sides and his eyes blur in hunger. What is it that makes the poor man sell his last jewelry only to buy one more costly, one he could never wear yet so precious to his heart.
What is it that drives a man to sell his soul? The early morning meetings, sleepless nights. The lack of trust for those around, and the hunger for more. When dignity comes after pride and the love for money before compassion. Every move he makes, he calculates because charity is nothing but a business. His name is written, and people praise him and call him good.
What is it For it was not birth by woman, nor the stars in the sky. Selfless in all actions, what name could one use to describe the indescribable? For what is it that can not be comprehended, that can not be manipulated, the wisest fall on their knees, the strongest warriors become weak. It makes the blind see and the deaf hear. It does not knock for it has keys to all. What is it that makes one look perfect though soaked in flaws.
You see I wanted to break it down But then I remembered I’m in pieces I tried to figure it out But I’m still lost. I climbed up to mountain tops. I dived deep into the oceans. I walked down the Nile Looked through the pyramids. I thought it was hidden back in time. It has to exist It has to be real. I stare down at my broken pieces from the mountain top, They shine brighter than diamonds. From here I have figured it out, Love is what I think of me.
“I promise I will never do it again.” You see, ‘tis something about the way you say it. The tone of your voice and the sincerity in your eyes. I fall for it all the time. I think about what we could be without lies and abuse. No cheating and neglecting. I think I can change you. No! Matter of fact, I believed I could change you.
In my eyes, you are this little boy who was molested and abused, and now he can’t act right. It’s not you acting heartless it’s what you went through and it’s a way of protecting your self. We are both broken and I thought we could be together. From the beginning, I dreamed of turning you into a nice guy. I wanted to be that girl that made you choose right over wrong, so I stayed with you because I believed you would change. I was waiting for you to love, I stopped loving myself.
Sometimes I question reality. Sometimes I wish you were not my father. You see , the way your brother looks at me, yet you say nothing. You know your friend went to prison for sexual assault, and yet you leave me with him. And why your girlfriend look my age? Every time she walk you know she’s one of them. She is so selfish all she cares about is her next high. When you told me you fell in love I didn’t know it was a crackhead.
And, mother, will you stop bringing all these men around me? You’re in love with them I’m not. He flirts with everyone except you. You have a masters and he has a high school diploma. “You are the only one?” Yea, the only one that can be with a manipulative broke too many baby mamas, always between jobs, bastard with little brain cells. He is not in love with who you are. He is in love with what you are.
If you met me outside of here, what would you tell me love is? See, my experience is different, so my love is different. I am broken in pieces. No, I don’t want to fit them back together. I want to be scattered under the mountain tops. I want to shine in different places. Those small tiny diamonds I see looking down. Those are a part of me, and that, to me, is love.