Rumblings You Can’t Ignore

Rumblings of a stomach starving for change,
Try to alert my glossy eyes of what I should look away from.
They try,
And try!
But I seem to freeze at the sight of what plagues my mind with hysteria…

An ice block too cold to hug and feel when staring at each flare of hate shot towards my inner walls of peace.
How can one defrost when trapped within a tundra meant for a merciless beast?
Does that make me a monster,
Cold-hearted with gritted teeth?
Maybe it does!
But,
I wonder what made me…

Was it all the eye rolls noticing the scuffs on my sneakers?
Or,
The lack of ice around my neck blinding everybody’s eyes from my best features?
Like,
A voice box I’ve had to use in hopes I could deter,
My feet from a box down under as my activity of leisure.
Or,
Is it my scruffy beard,
Crooked line up,
How I roll without fear nor a cup of hoe elevating my mind from the cusp of defeat?
Slaughtering any doubt of a feat I must reach  in a lion’s den full of “Emcees…”

The confidence radiating off a body,
Once rotting,
Now breached!
By divine light only I can see thwarting off a ‘man-child’ jealous of this master of ceremony.
A woman scorned by an absence necessary for a man quite lonely.
Along a man who saw no evil while watching me fight this monkey on my back trying to throw me!
At a pack of wolves hungry for my flesh,
Salivating every moment I decide to keep flowing,
Right along the beat to their drums as I hone in,
On a potential one can only realize by letting go of what they’re holding on to,
During any tragedy happening as an omen,
For a brighter future…

Nothing can satisfy a thirst like mine,
Though,
Unless you severe each anchor on your ankles controlling the narratives of your story.
Others who would rather fold to the devil they’ve never known,
Rather than the angel with horns they already knew,
Forming an alliance only cowards can make in blood while watching their money pile up…

You know,
The kind of green that grows in our heads when life breaks our silence.
From every seed watered by your tears,
Cracked open by the shrieks of your inner child incapacitated by demonic tyrants,
Memory after memory of those who lied about their undying loyalty,
Now dead and expired…

Nothing else you can do,
But,
Wipe your canvas clean of colors faded.
Not another sunny day wasted,
Over past blues painted over every glimmer of gold pasted to your silhouette anytime the sun gives you company…
Company I haven’t had during my rise from a fall deeper than the grave I’ve kept idle under me…