Retaining my composure

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This is for the first maybe two weeks I, no we, me and Jordan became a whole, as in a relationship, for y'all out there that don't feel like you're a piece to someone else. We both have the same issues as the other almost to the point, I've shown her more control since this was written. In doing so I've been losing the ability to watch out for myself. This is for one of the first times I learned our thresholds for control over our problems, my buddies for life, anxiety and depression. I honestly believed she was gone, but I've forgiven her since then... after all, she is my savior and my home. I hope you can relate or at least enjoy. MINOR WARNING: I MAY SWEAR LIKE A SAILOR IN THIS ONE,including the fact that this is one of the "aggressive" poems. The second half explains my tolerance for violence and discrimination towards those I care for since we mostly share the same struggles.

Also, dying is not the answer kids, people care about you, they genuinely do. (and) when you're gone, not to call you out on selfishness cause believe me I understand the pain, I really do, you cause the people you loved that loved you back in ways you probably weren't able to imagine an ungrateful amount of despair and an emptiness they will never be able to replace. No two hearts beat the same, flow the same oxygen and blood through your bodies veins, nor give the same life it's own meaning. If you ever feel like dying, know that I'm here, and so are you. Two people that flow life in different ways yet still share a common enemy and a common pain: How we can continue to live and deal with ourselves despite how we think it will be for us, or how others will think of what we can do if we take it away and end it all. I may not know you, or maybe I do, but I still value your life just as I value the safety of hers.

Enjoy the poem, one of my many first attempts at Slam hence all the commas. and yes I meant to say bodies and not body's.


I can't,

I'm worrying,

In love,

blood concentrate,

heart pounds,

butterflies,

in the night

I did or did I cry,

flowing swiftly

through my mind,

can I help it?

can I try?

that I might,

cry red,

if I succumb,

to parallel thoughts,

of other worlds in my heads,

all the fucks that I gave,

come back from, their hollow grave,

not for me,

not for them,

for one and only,

out of grasp,

from these hands,

that demand her warm touch,

and safety,

that I give,

that I leave,

as a residue,

of my soul,

that I share,

unconsoled,

while I sleep,

whilst I weep,

I will never stray,

I will never leave,

she needs me,

always more than ever,

get her through this

filthy weather,

I am here for her,

here to serve,

my one and only,

of which I mean,

promises never broken I do keep,

I want her to be loved,

I only ask her embrace.

Of what women have taught,

I preach unbotched,

a man who has stopped,

instead to be a gender identity

expressed through slam,

and poetry,

will serve,

with his life,

through tough times,

with fidelity,

till I see hell freeze,

the pestilence I will stop,

or skulls I will rock,

I'm done being,

a scared boy,

reality I'm not your toy,

leave us be, they and I

in the dusk in the night,

I will serve,

till I die,

no violence in these eyes,

aggression it will rise,

stay on the side lines,

when I'm looking for,

one man,

law and order, words in hands.


I am a guardian

sent for deliverance,

liberation calls me,

when I see,

cast down,

at my feet,

the ones that I love,

that receive my care,

hand after hand,

I fight,

I stand.

(this thing your reading signifies my break from the slam genre for the remainder of the poem)

Because retaining my

composure

is like chaining a flood,

I will liberate broken hearts

of spattered blood,

because without these people

that I love

I am broken.

With offed gloves

I take my weapons,

Soul and Heart

and do start

a bonfire on cruelty

as finally

I

Am

and these

emotions

become a time bomb

that fuel me and

provide me no explanation

for reasons I stand for the common stranger.

1. Memories, For, When I Am. (Being edited 2024)Where stories live. Discover now