Mindtrip

Sitting…
Reminiscing on how good it use to feel when I would remember
how to forget.
Running fingers through my hair,
trying to retrace my roots as if I could find my ancestors ashes in my dandruff…
I never did like washing my hair.
I always thought that each strand that fell
was just another unused opportunity to find where I come from,
so I forgot my name.
Took to trying on the glass slippers of others,
but I found out all too soon that fairytales…
weren’t meant for little girls like me.
Split between 2 families,
2 wars,
and I guess 4 inch glass stilettos would make it a little hard for G.I. Joe to stand his ground in,
so I was given my father’s combat boots.
I was taught how to march in them,
but one day I couldn’t remember how to lace them up.
Barefoot and broken I ran back into who I forgot I was.
Have you ever witnessed a butterfly
fling it’s self into a bolt of lightning like a Buddhist monk self immolating?
I was always something like a pyro.
Amazed by the flame,
and obsessed with the burn.
I torched my memories and set fire to my veins.
Black is suppose to be beautiful,
but I wonder if my ancestors could see beauty in their hung loved ones with scorched skin.
swinging from the necks of trees,
old school Jesus pieces.
I wonder if they could remember the smell.
Sitting,
barricaded by broken I remembered…
went back to the day I saw life in brown skin.
The day the beat was given back to the music box hidden under my left breast
I tripped into love with ice.
Fell,
and couldn’t remember what standing felt like,
so I forgot my affair with the flame.
Damn if the cold didn’t feel good sometimes….
and sometimes,
I would stay low and pray for the rain
just so I could run against the clouds and maybe mistake my tears for raindrops…
Numb myself enough so that I could break this bloodline between us without hemorrhaging.
Till I saw the sunrise in your smile
and felt the blaze in your touch.
I.
Forgot.
My name.
My ideological foundation cracked beneath me.
I found myself free-falling through galaxies,
so I renamed myself Halley,
Comet,
‘cause just like he,
she,
it,
I challenged the Sun’s beauty.
but only in the darkness…
In the daylight,
I would lose luminosity and just blend in.
Maybe that’s why I would always cry come morning,
afraid that my son wouldn’t rise right.
So while reminiscing on how good it use to feel when I would remember how beautiful forgetting felt,
I forgot.
Got lost inside my hair
with my roots wrapped ‘round my throat
like my ancestors’ way of screaming remember me.
I choked on their ashes and I remembered the dirt and bone I came from.
Remembered the war,
the fight.
Remembered the first night I forgot.
Remembered the flame
the smell,
I finally remembered-
my name.

Royalty

We were bred to be kings.
Murmured from lips the moment our heads are first freed from womb,
why do you think they call it crowning?
Our kingdoms are hidden in the beats that dance from Adam’s piano keys,
I am royalty…
I’ve constructed castles out of the sand I stole from Time’s hour glass
just so I would always have a safe place to keep my memories.
I’ve used the petals that fell from the rose in my chest like bricks.
Designing dynasties and hiding them sporadically in overlooked beauty.
My lost Atlantis,
They were not ready for you
so I hide you in the ocean above me,
formed the clouds to fit you.
The sky is my canvas
and I dare anyone to try and take it from me.
We are kings.
Even when our crowns are in pieces
you should still walk like royalty.
Learn how to carry broken on your shoulders,
a reminder of where you come from.
Sister,
though your crown may not be acknowledged
it doesn’t mean that it is non-existent.
Let no one tell you that you were not bred from diamonds.
You should only come second to God.
Get closer to God.
And don’t be afraid to let your rivers flow from your oasis,
cause you will never be stronger than when your weaknesses are exposed.
Listen,
because you have not been blessed with no greater gift
than the ability to hear beauty in simplicity.
See me,
I am everything lost.
Pieced together with the pieces that I have found
left from those who have come before me.
Trust,
I’ve been fucked by broken,
I know how it feels to feel hallow.
We can rebuild each other,
and re-shine these crowns.
Now brother,
why do you deny your thrown.
For this is where life begins.
You are Adam…
you hold music in your chest that escapes from that missing piece.
You are king.
So act like one.
Even when you are not treated as such,
we are sorry.
But you were built to walk up-right.
Powerful like thunder,
this storm will be over soon.
Brother,
you are beauty in it’s purest form.
Life is built on your foundations,
so lay a good one.
Don’t worry about old cracks
they make plaster for that.
If the world was not meant for you to carry alone
then that bone would’ve never been broken in the first place.
We are kings.
Even when sleeping in garbage
we are still garnished.
This world is our dying dynasty,
and too many of you have discarded your crowns
but I’m here to give them back to you.
Only if you want them,
we were bred this way so accept it.
King,
your thrown…
is waiting.