my empathy is god's way/ of allowing my great (times 10) grandmother/ to shed her tears//
my lifestyle/ allows space for emotion she may never have fully explored/ or understood//
sometimes i wonder/ how many of her men were chased away/ maybe that's why mine don't stick around//
massa's warped sensibilities exchanged for/ the attentions of absentee fathers and overworked mothers/slavery is/ still fucking my shit up/ only in a different timeplacespaceway//
but/ details aside/ dysfunction is still dysfunction...
i only want to make the weeping stop/ replay the joyful ceremonies/ spread balm over the wounds/ make a way outta no way/ love against the odds that/he'll know how to love me back...
the ancestors desired a time traveler/ so here i am/ stuck in a distant present/ remembering a dimly lit past/ jet lag is a constant/ my growth an attempt to get my bearings//
seamlessly shape shifting to find my level/ water personified/ my patience sculpts stone/ my vitality introduces the possibility/ of life//
i am no accident.
even if my parents had claimed i was/ i'd know better/ i was awaited in this world/ just as i was released from the other/ some grand anticipation/seems to color my forward movement//
the sun illuminates my moisture, and rainbows follow...
this is how i know i will grow into myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment