Monotonous subject matter
Am I truly talented
If I mainly write from pain?
Passion inspires talent
And emotions fuel passion
So the product of my passion
Should be fire
But I feel the heat leaving
And now I'm cold
Frost bitten by the stares and blank looks
When I've finished reading
Or they've closed my book
Can't they see my blood through the ink?
Isn't it an obvious cry for understanding?
Why do I even crave to be understood
I should just be satisfied with being heard
But just because you hear me
Doesn't mean you feel me
And if you don't feel me
How can you begin to understand
The complexity within
So much of my life has been spent shunning my emotions and passions
That now that I've accepted
And embraced,
I'm eager for you to as well
Excuse my enthusiasm because
Every moment not understood and embraced
Feels like my existence is diminishing
And worse than rejection
Is complacency
in the face of nullification

If today I died
I wouldn't be sad or mad
Void of life I doubt
I would feel at all
But surprisingly I'm ready
Not to end life as I know it
But if it were over
I might actually feel glad
Glad that feeling is no longer a necessity
Feeling love or any other pain monger
If love is the cause
Pain is almost always guaranteed to be the effect
When there's no more joy in feeling
What's the point of living
So yes I'm ready
To let go of pain
And all things leading to it
True I haven't accomplished much
And definitely not everything I wanted
But what's the point in trying
When the simplest of feelings
Seems to always remain unattainable
And being happy feels more like a facade or job
Than a blessed emotion

Seeking shelter during the storm
It’s not as simple as a run
Much more complicated than a fight
After all, how do you fight life?
With the will to live?
The idea is to survive
But the goal is to evolve
Me and my resolve
Proving to myself and the world
Better yet **** the world
It brings me problem after problem
All due to trivial delusions
That I have always left in the past
But just as I pass
Something jumps up to bite me in the ***
How much strength do I truly need?
The God they all fear
Doesn’t seem to believe in me
After all what’s the sense in blind faith
When all I see is pain
Maybe it expects more of me
Stop smoking ****?
Or maybe even to believe
But I can’t seem to hold on to that
I go to believe
And seem to be dragged further into hell

I am the rose that grew from concrete
Budded from stones, rocks, mortar, cement, broken glass,  drug vials and bags.
I am a product of my environment.
What you thought would **** me,
Only served to make me stronger.
Evolved into a hybrid
I'm the only of my kind.
My thorns fortified with brass knuckles,
My color faded from weather beatings,
And all other beatings,
The travesty of my existence
is not lost on me.
Beauty in the midst of pain,
And what is the epitome of ugly.
I don't belong here and never did.
Wisdom I have absorbed
From rains never to come again
Rejuvenates my leaves.
Although I cannot absorb it all,
Through the cracks in the concrete.
I relish what I can
And vow to absorb more the next time,
Should I be so fortunate.
Because the concrete can protect
As well as expose my naivete.
So compelling to manipulate,
It would be ideal to control.
Impossible though.
How can you control
What grows and survives in the midst of chaos?
And at what cost to your soul?
Even through the ominous clouds,
I remain in light.
The Sun has never been immune to my plight.
Providing the strength, energy and hope
I'll need for the next season of my fight.

I miss you so much
And I doubt
you truly understand
You course through my veins
When I look in the mirror
Who do I see but you?
In my hair, mannerisms and attitude
Most of my family
Doesn't even like you
Or they have a cynical attitude towards you
Its hard not to be rude
But somehow I manage not to
These things you go through
You shouldn't have to
At least not alone
I keep finding myself
With a man
Trying to replace you
But no one can hold a candle
To my father
Missing you fuels my fear
Fear fuels nightmares
Nightmares of you
And your demise
They even strike during the day
By the time its over
Everything is blurry from my eyes
Its driving me crazy
Please don't make goodbye
The first thing I have to say next time I see you.

Charity and love
go hand in hand
From my perspective,
it's two breeds of the same species
To love encompasses the desire to give
yet charity has its limits
But what limits can be placed on a charity of love?
Endless giving even as much as my soul
and the purity that's left of
which you never turned away
greed is your sin
consuming the broken pieces of me
as if it were a buffet
But wait Hey!
if you consume all of me
what is left of me
the parts you control
in fear of being alone?
How is it possible to fear
what we've already experienced?
Is the experience that horrific and unrewarding
horrendous to the mind and eye
daily disrespect is ok and warranted
Warranting questions of common sense and more
dare we say even sanity
all in the name of love and charity
because what need do I have of me
without giving to the one I love
because he needs
more than me

I can dissect;
break it down to the smallest molecule
But you wouldn't see where and what i mean
My deepest pain, excruciating, blood boiling anger
Wouldn't be justified in your eyes
Categorized and stereotyped into something
With which you would never be able to sympathize or relate
But if i opened my thighs your attention would quickly shift
To see where and how long you could fit
When you look into my eyes don't you see more than that
The pain i carry from constantly being called ugly and fat
A child beyond her years
Into an adult who disowns her tears
From seeing the blood pour from my lips
And the welts on my hips
Self taught the language  of rejection
Because it replaced affection
Seeking anything to fill the void left
From s mentally, physically, verbally abusive father
And an intangible mother
It's so much easier to ignore and dismiss me that
If you sought  to truly understand me
It still would not expand your vision of me