I've spent so long trying to right my wrongs With every line spit a new envisionment of a poem Guess that's what I get for trying to fix a...
I've spent so long trying to right my wrongs With every line spit a new envisionment of a poem Guess that's what I get for trying to fix all this on my own Like I'm tripping on emotions trying to move on alone But even that depends still I really Spend so long trying to right my wrongs And that I try write and recite A stutter of the tongue they come out short A product of pay tolls My shortcomings only raise and my rage told me And my emotions are still trying to catch up sometime And destiny still hasn’t got that time rolled in That escapade slowly fades forwards Or I misplayed, treating my heartbreaks like an art form On display, waiting on my reign like a downpour And this may lead to me portraying a dark horse Try to get it up the right way, I was raised in the south, poor Life's a fight or that's just something I'm told Keep your head down and learn how to roll with the blows And only punch up if you aim for the throat Cos you will get rocked just for thinking you're bold So give me OSCARS, my performance was impeccable Became a wordsmith to keep crying out of my schedule Followed in footsteps now fresh prints are undetectable My trauma being plated... only because I made it all digestable Kept it a G I couldn’t come up with the pesos I’m blessed that babyfaces kept my fire lit Been through more than two L’s Yet J has taught me how to keep my cool Music melded my mana made mafagafaga I take a break Take a breath with no hope in it Made so many poems I think I destroyed my own image Disconnect from all my trauma so I can cope with it Now I can't feel sad the same because I wrote with it My mental state messing up the state of this house Home. Roof. Rental Space And with a rugged rough roof Everything under that lays stays cold Though sometime me and my mental race Is often paced slow Flow switch when I'm most withered, don't reach out Xanny'll go phantom and ghost it, I freak out But then I'll make a poetry post with it and geek out Funny how spoken word is the only time that I speak out I’ve spent so long trying to heal But all I can do is seal my emotions in an ongoing wheel storing it all up hoping time will steal the pain away. I’m a healer But not for myself cause the Fa’a Sāmoa way says service to others will make everything okay. So maybe today I’ll help someone find their way Cause maybe if I pay it forward I’ll be met halfway by the smiles I see on faces everywhere. But I’m uncertain cause I’ve fallen into a dark pattern of people pleasing where being satisfied by applause is the closest, I get to feeling affection. I wanna feel affection maybe that’s all I ever wanna feel just real love and after a day of hard shove I want to fall into the same arms that birthed me and be reminded it’s okay try again rewrite this poem without the traumatic experience of self-betrayal replace it with the way you are dramatic and unapologetic in your own self portrayal. Because the only way to overcome hate and break through that mental gate is to love.