We all have the same hood story about sour milk struggling mothers and pain. Even I Got tired of eating crumbs my brother moved weight ended up lost in the gold of the street lights chains on his neck got him weighted over the hustle and escaping now,  Who knows if I'll end up like my brother who hungers for the street lights like a moth

The building blocks for commitment issues were so easy for young me to find in life as so was my father to my many aunts.......
The name given to them by a loving father of course right before he ran up cement stairs that made him seem like he was going somewhere that the only way I could get to was to grow up and make men chase my embrace.  A child I watched countless paint chipped doors that were at the end of cracked steps.
Sitting in a Cadillac smelling the soft heated leather as the summer sun warmed me also. Only to leave me cold as I grew older and a Cadillac turned into a memory yet I still remember how to work the radio which never contained a explanation of why I could never figure out what was being built up in me to never break over time that no one could ever love me but my father
only my father could love me I thought and how foolish my aunts were for trying to pinch little pieces of his heart cause if they knew that little girl in their living room playing with blocks was confused because it seemed like her father had lots of love so much so that it caused him to give it away. Summer after summer it built somethingup in her jealousy developed because she would be ****** when she grew up to let someone give all the love due to her away.  Not again
See she was stacking up her border carefully with every piece she was given as child cause her God made sure he didn't drop her off before showing her love does exist in parts, a child's waiting eyes in parking lots, and forgotten women that have things to tell with their hips.
This girl grew up and had enough cinder blocks for a couple of steps of commitment issues to her hips now