Two brown girls, a million poems

c o m e b a c k

{Quoia}

no pen has touched a paper or finger has touched these notes in months.
i've lost my reason to write
my reason to explain my rights
rights of my feelings
and to explain why i think my life is peeling.
my demons don't visit me anymore
so it causes my life to have some sort of bore.
i have the urge or should i say voice that tells me i should be working.
but yet i don't know my craft
school , i'm not good at that
grades are dropping because the of the lack of motivation i give myself.
i might as well put my own body back on the shelf
and i ask the Lord to forgive me
i said i would get close to you but my heart has no meaning.
i going to waste this time remaining
wasting it so when i face you , i could say i did something but not the right way
my soul is not pure
i'm not sure
sure of who i am or who i wanna be
or who my family wants to me to be
every time they see me there's some form of disappointment
"dad why don't you answer the phone"
oh yes i need an appointment
an appointment to talk the man who's sack i came from
when he taking care of my little brother and 4 other kids who are not his.
but it's alright i see
go have fun with your new family
and i'll the pressure of the one left
my mind still can't grasp on to why you left.
but now every night i wonder who's gonna take care of my special ed brother and my dying on the inside mother
when i leave because you couldn't be man enough to stay
man enough to say , i'm sorry.
i'm sorry no pen has touched a paper or finger has touched these notes in months.
but i'm back on it.