DIRTY LAUNDRY

birth of my spirit

the angels are singing to me
a beautiful melody
and compelling me to render my circumstances

they send ultimatums and I'm not one to take chances
I just follow my heart
and if that might rip me apart
I know its because the man above has something in store
something that will come into my life like an elephant in the room I can't ignore.

my core is hardening
am I parting from expectations
possibilities circulate around my dinner plate I was never full, I only ate
what life has given me to articulate

like "what mood do I want to have on repeat"
whose really out here in this world hunting for meat
we don't even have anything real anymore
everything is processed and manufactured
we are merely compactors that consume all this bullshit and have a outcome that's similar

I figure it's because we don't want to do shit the hard way
because our ancestors paved that way

and the angels, they not talking to me
they are just walking with me down the road less traveled
my bare feet bleeding from sharp pieces of gravel

telling me to move forward
but what direction am I really going towards

these desolate wastelands are beginning to flourish and my kingdom ain't nothing but a ping pong bouncing me to and fro between a have and have not

what else do I know
peace of mind is not attainable yet
I have not touched it and the angels speak nothing of it

what is peace of mind
when these pieces of my mind
are always sneaking into my time

I cant say I'm fine
with a knife in my spine
I cant say its ok
when a mf always got something to say

these angels summoning me to venture into all these angles of myself
you mean so less to the world if you think in the contextual purpose of itself

am I normal for wanting my life to be a little more formal?
is it really bliss
if I'm successful and everyone surrounding me is not shit?

I can never reveal the world for what I have come to discover
yes, I'm still living my life without a mother
yes, I will reiterate and confess
how that shit happened
because when you finally start getting out the hole
the mother fuckers down below will not be clapping

yes, I am  snapping
yes, I am wrapping my shit up with tissue because I know that it stank
I know I'm going somewhere
and no one can even look into
my amina and tell me I ain't

that's why God be so tough on me...

because he knows I cant back down now
I'm too far in there is no enough
my tears are just a bluff to the world
I know I'm strong,
and I know I'm not the sweetheart I use to be
I'm grown enough to admit when I'm wrong

but lord, how long?

I have been below and above.
every now and then I need a little love, reassurance with hugs, and not syllables.
As everyone is speaking only the voice that makes more sense is heard//E.B.