I wish I wasn't so damn sensitive I wish the woes of the world didn't weigh down my soul so heavy. I've always related to May from A Secret Life of Bees going to her wall whenever the woes became too heavy She would write them place them in the cracks of the wall try and roll them off her shoulder I do that too, with my journals pages and pages and pages scribble them on napkins in notebooks store them anywhere but my heart so many so many. I still shed a tear when I hear his voice so many of his interviews in my watch later that I'll just have to watch later cuz right now my voice chokes when he's mentioned my eyes leak when he comes up on my playlists So I cry and I write this He never knew me I only know him through his music and yet here I am every time I hear his voice with a beat or without my heart still break for him and for what this world lost. ~ For Your Ears:
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Self care is smashing cursing yelling throwing punching kicking beating walking sitting laying rolling drinking bathing sleeping crying sleeping and crying again. Self care is whatever you need it to be to expel the evil words and actions of others and yourself Self care is quitting the drugs that numb picking up the ones that make you feel. IT IS NOT ANOTHER DAMN FACE MASK. It's getting up and cleaning your room eating vegetables calling your mom going to bed on time waking up on time. It's taking a day off but not too many it's taking a shower it's crying and crying and therapy. Even when you've convinced yourself that you're fine. ~ For Your Ears:Friday morning I woke up ready to whoop everybody's ass on some "I'll slap anybody in here!" shit but I didn't. Instead I beat my face I traced my eyeliner across my lids and to my scalp I traced my roots back to the Queen of Sheba and thought to myself "How can they not see my crown?" Niggas ain't shit. "Not all niggas ain't shit" I used to defend them Then when your homeboy yelled "Aye ma! Aye Queen! Aye you! You got a man?" I decided that a least 60% of these niggas ain't shit. I'm being generous because of my brother and father and best friend who are all, technically, niggas Who are all men of substance. Friday morning I woke up ready to stomp my ex best friend and all her lil friends into the ground but I didn't. Instead I strapped on my Doc Martens black leather Hard, solid like me Always down for my homies the one holding back their hair like its wasn't just me vomiting having to hold back my own. I am no longer self medicating so when the emotions come they're loud and they linger and they sit on my face and in my shoulders and on my lips so if you're the reason I woke up Friday morning with my lips curled my eyeliner winged to the gods of my ancestors if my boots are stained with mud and not your blood then I'd advise you stay out of my way cuz baby I'm strong, but I'm tired. ~ For Your Ears:My heart beats faster when the phone rings shoulders tense, bracing for impact, not expecting bad news not waiting for him to call back just the sound, the knowledge that I'll be communicating with someone I can't see. Connecting is hard social media has made it easier for introverts and the easiest it's ever been for extroverts I have no comfort talking over a screen meet me face to face lets share the same air let me see your eyes light up tear up as we share our hearts across this table this cup of coffee this meal. Distance by technology allows for too many unanswered questions too many assumptions too many maybes Meet me outside, lets take a walk what's your sign? what's your favorite scripture? what are you afraid of? what are you thinking right now? (insert that one Lil Wayne lyric) Maybe I'm just old school or maybe ya'll are just lame. ~ For Your Ears: |
J. SeymoneThis is the place for the public consumption of my poems, album reviews, and general thoughts. Archives
April 2019
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