To others, the lines from my heart
may seem forced or too jagged,
which was never intended,
nor will it ever be.
I’m just writing from what’s inside
searching for words
like tiny pieces of candy
that has cracked on the ground
probing the cosmic air
for thoughts
pasting rhymes into short stanzas
trimming the meter
like my thick black hair
then washing it again
the next hour.
Maybe if they had my heart
for a whole day,
they would see every line
I crafted has more meaning
than the cloudless sky.
Everything on the page is sublime
just the way it is
and it mirrors
All the sweating.
All the bleeding.
All the thinking.
Sometimes I wish they could wear my eyeballs,
but I have to kick myself in the belly
because these are my veiled murals
engraved with rhymes and emotions.
This is my territory of expression
and I have to secure it from encroachers.
💗💗💗💗💗💗