Author of My Own Story

Nowadays,
When I wake up,
I realize I can never see him again.
The man who taught me what a word was any time I said,
“I don’t ever want to breathe nor live again…”

One of three who dragged me out of an abyss so that I can repent.
For the sins I’ve committed on myself when I held a knife to my neck.
With a pen in my palms,
Jotting down every way it would end…
He’s an angel I have felt I never deserved.
I’m a Demon in the eyes of my beloved while I try my best to preserve,
My inner child’s innocence banging on my fucking chest while I cry on the dirt.
Where my soul sleeps while I search,
For a reason as to why I should be on a piece of land where I’m buried underneath my,
Hurt…

It’s as simple as that.
Am I only good for anyone when I’m faking my emotions?
Am I only good when I’m not shielded by the marijuana I’ve been toking?
It’s the only thing that hugs me without a sound when I’m flowing,
Through puddles of tears I’ve been drowning in while I coast in,
This ocean I’ve made through tears dripping from my nose and,
Every time I’ve bled at a show and,
Every time I made my pupils glow in the faces of the masses…

Been a South Bronx boy too shy to spit game to a woman.
But,
I’m a South Bronx boy trying to rap while I’m folding,
All the hands trying their best to keep me choking.
And I’m a South Bronx boy shown a way out from this hell I was placed in by,
Roland…

I miss you…
Haven’t spoken to you for a while,
Just want you to know I only get high to be with you,
So that I can smile.
I may not speak to all the others,
But,
I’ve just been looking for my inner child.
The one you called the Word king,
In a class full of kids without a clue as to why you made us file,
Down,
The ignorance inside of our minds from a neighbor hood that could’ve left us all dead in a single pile.
But…

You taught me that,
Together,
We fight.
Together,
We rise.
Yet,
I find myself alone with a drink in front of me,
With a sword full of ink as I write.
Pages full of lines!
I’ve snorted through my tears just to stand on my own in my fucked up life…

Always tried to take your advice.
But,
I was so confused when my Mom through a knife,
At my fucking chest even if I treasured her enough to let it go for some time.
Didn’t know what kind of Love you were speaking of,
Yet,
I still hunted for an answer no matter the amount of wine…

Bottle after bottle,
Blunt after blunt.
Lying to myself everyday since I thought I was a bust.
Even thought of grabbing that pistol and shooting my shot at a chance to land in heaven,
But…
I heard your voice in the back of my head,
Like,
“Stop acting like you’re not worth much…”
“I gave you the tools to escape this hurt,
But…”
“You got to see the light inside for yourself,
And choke the fucking devil with your words because,
You’re a prophet of change in a world full of nonsense keeping our hearts poor…”

So,
One day I slipped on your shirt.
Stepped on a stage in hopes to heal an Earth,
Through a poem we can all feel before we fall into the worse,
State of minds we can be in…
Where you’re so lonely in the inside,
All you do is lay defeated,
As you plot a suicide you plan to keep on secret…
All I’ve wanted was to see someone in so much pain,
Just grin for good reason.
Remind them that it isn’t just them!
We’re all attacked by our demons…
Hand them a sword,
Like you did for me,
To start slicing through their Darkness till
They rest underneath the warmth they’ve needed…
And write their own life story before someone writes it for them in a world full of treason…

I love you. Rest in peace ❤

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