I'm a rap game prodigy
irony like Socrates
that I could spit this philosophy
so flawlessly.
Unmatched like I'm scalene-
scaling my way to the top
so high like I'm a scaffolding
go ahead fold and scowl at me
and watch me cackle sarcastically-
while I tell the masses to become appealing
the apple of my eye is hip-hop do you feel me?
Massive attacks while the males become *****
and subject to the ways of misogyny
oh **** here we go again, this bothers me
what? equality?
Misuse the muse and move through your mind
makeshift mammals mimmicking media monkeys
no wonder half the world's a ******
like you when you see-
the way I spit so fluently
second language, feel the anguish
anger within me resentment
followed by residuals
the world is red and we're all cruel
consumed by corporate corruption
no function left to the fiction of fascism
so fasten your seat-belts and see me belt
way more than 16sixteens, it's sickening
how sick this flow can be so ambiguous
hip-hop is bigger than us-
it's luck, it's lust-
it's a ******* when there's a lack of trust-
it's ****, it's love
it's touch, it's ****
it's drugs and grudges
and beef and *******
it's empowerment, cowards
and records strictly to deflower.
it's appreciation and admiration
and it at one point shook the entire nation-
i'm complacent at the placement of this prophecy
that hip-hop has engrained into me
I'm grateful for the grandfather's
and the sons and the daughters
the step-fathers and mother *******
cut throat music industry
if you don't **** with hip-hop you don't **** with me.
*****.

I got 99 problems but hip-hop ain't one.

"Poetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop
I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop straight off the block"
Nas and Jigga beef was the first I heard of drama in the music industry-
fueled me as a youngin' crowned from my brother's love of it.
Fast forward to when the radio put me on-
in the garage, on my mongoose
I heard someone spitting through the stereo
didn't pay much mind until a high-pitched voice rang through.
"Through the wire-"
no "through the fire?"
I couldn't understand but this dude started rhyming
and speaking through the speakers at me
my hair raised up and I knew this was love-
smile on my face at first listen
never really heard anything like it.
I thought back to the first song like that I heard-
"Life's a ***** and then you die-"
knew that line all too well
resonation in my bones didn't feel so much like a stranger-
my young self started spitting around the older crowd
they looked down and smiled-
a sense of admiration.
Hip-hop was my way in my ticket to acknowledgment.
Started listening to Eminem before I was even 10.
5th grade on the bus rides to and from field trips
"Shut the **** up guys I'm trying to listen"
headphones in, finally found someone to relate
so many thoughts of suicide being taken away-
realized the radio wasn't really my thing
too much pop and not enough soul
the words they sang were nothing to me.
In the beginning hip-hop was just a facade I liked to play
so other people would notice and think I'm pretty cool
but somewhere along the line it took me over
bumping nas, em and pac through my stereo
mom looking in my room like
"where the **** did my daughter go?
she's listening to this ****, she's gotta get a grip-"
But when I hurt the music would listen
bass lines and samples running through my veins
didn't know much about hip-hop
except the way it made me feel..
Technology came abrupt and the computer was my safe haven
the runaway from the abuse I was experiencing
mommy and daddy fighting?
headphones in so I can't hear it.
crying through each verse
and then the chorus hits and I'm better
finally realized I wasn't alone in this hell hole.
Started up a myspace-
more room for discovery
Eazy-e some Biggie more Nas
and **** even some Jeezy.
Every word they spoke
became something that was apart of me.
"Poetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop
I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop straight off the block."
Nas said it best-
old school rappers speaking to me before bed.
Then I discovered Cudi, more Kanye, andre 3k.  
thought about how I had to write like this
it was my destiny to manifest this passion
put it into my pen until I could learn to lavish
in the luxuries they could afford
not the riches but the rhyme schemes
and the way it helped me
again and again would listen until I got tired
notebooks full of rhymes
my life was on the line and it became wired
then came limewire and my mind blew up
there's an entire world of music I never knew-
download after download the music became me
so much more to go through
****** up my computer
virus to the hard drive
all my music's gone. ****.
Freaking out in my room at midnight
threw a chair, punched the wall
mom asking if i'm alright.
"*******, go away"
She thought the music was to blame
but without that **** is why it happened
never gave up on this **** called rappin'
wrote my first rhyme when I was in 5th grade
poetry turned to rhyme schemes
and samples I liked to play.
Passion turned to aggression
when everyone started spitting
thought this was me and no one elses
has to prove who I was to the masses.
High School came and I was
"The girl who rapped"
freestyle lunch sessions to secure it.
Voices from the crowd
"**** she murdered it".
Slipped up-
started on the pills
too many thoughts in my mind
too many demons to ****-
ran away from the hip-hop
turned that **** to heavy metal
pop-punk and punk rock.
Turned away my from my passion
and started writing poetry
stanzas, sibilance and sonnets
filled my insides.
I suffered without the classics
the dream began to fade away.
We moved-
became a recluse.
didn't eat for weeks
but this time money wasn't the issue.
Heard something bumpin' from the basement
my hair stood up when I heard that base hit
ran down like I was chasin' after my passion again
"what is this?"
my cousin laughed "Life Changes"
"who is it?"
"Wu-tang" he said to me
I bobbed my head and smiled once again
"Wu is indeed for the children"
he laughed and so did I.
Realized my love for hip-hop
would never actually die.
"Poetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop
I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop straight off the block"

I don't feel real anymore-
like all these emotions are just figments of my imagination.
Everyone around me is feeling down,
so I consume myself in them.
My emotions are always running away with my thoughts
and I can never really run fast enough to catch them
they're too infatuated with each other
and I was never really fond of relationships.
"Keep your head up"-
I've been told that more often times than not..
But what happens when my head
is bringing me down
and what happens when my neck
doesn't have the strength to hold it up
not anymore-
it's too preoccupied with the noose scratching at my throat
leaving a ring around it like an apology letter etched in my skin
a sad sorry for carrying too many burdens behind these eyelids.
I don't know how to place what I feel.
How to paint it into words
how to explain it in a way others can understand
I don't want anyone to understand.
I just want to be better-
to feel better
to feel the bliss of ignorance
as you're wrapped up in someone
or taking that 40 to your lips
wallowing in what you know to be true
but you don't let yourself see.
I want to make you see.
Make myself see.
It's hard to take away everyone's misery
when it is your middle name
it is where you were brought up
and how you were made-
it's a heavy heart who carries others burdens
and a heavy heart it will stay
because these days it helps take away the pain
to help others deal with theirs
but what happens when you can't seem to
separate the energy from who you are
and suddenly they coincide
so all you're left with is negativity.
Dreaming so I never wake up-
wake me up from these thoughts so heavy
push them from my wake.
Take it all with you
leave it all to me.
A heavy heart can hold a ton
and I'm not sure my maximum capacity
but i think it's reached it's peak.
Who is there to help the one
who is always helping another-
one is loneliest number we own
but two makes me feel so much more alone.
When will someone help me take the weight-
I can only hold myself up for so long
before this chair folds
and I'm dust again.
Settle with me.

Great fades to gray
where commonplace turns to decay
where the abnormal becomes negatively neurological
which leads to the ingestion of government sector sedatives
and we wonder why segregation of brain and mind is prominent
promises never kept and mind that never gets better
but before we fix the broken we must make you broke.
Objects in the mirror to fit society's standards
E news, TMZ, fox- all the new cancer.
Throw your money at it
make it go away
and watch in awe as the auction of your autonomy accelerates-
your mind is money to the highest bidder
and they don't budge when they watch your wallet quiver.
Quiet in the courtroom-
little Kyle's got a drug charge
searched his car without consent
convict at the age of sixteen
which is sickening to see.
Kyle was just depressed and needed a little THC
the only thing that would help him with social anxiety
and now he's facing a charge for not taking the meds
marijuana manipulation of the municipals
and now little kyle won't be able to go to a good school
18 the record will be swiped clean
but the debt of the courtroom creeps into his credit.
Society's white lies will tell you you'll be fine
debt from the courtroom turn to slanging dope-
dealing with depression while dealing in possession
pulled over, twice moreover propaganda's progression.
They feed us the same lies we go out of our way to buy-
news channels, channeling bias views for more views
sitting idly by as our lives pass through
changing channels as we become the chattel
slaves to our own brain waves from the manipulation
we love to bow down to this free nation
led by puppets- controlled by intimidation tactics.  
It's just backwards, the backbone of the nation doesn't have one
Columbine happened because little Kyle could get a gun, run-
repeat until it's done, dictating your discrimination
it's fun until everyone has to run away from the shooter.
Bangs heard throughout the world
talk of how his head was on backwards smoking on these backwoods
But he was off the marijuana and on the medicine-
FDA approved turned into a bullet to the head.
BANG.
Sinister structure of society-
**** america why did you have to lie to me.

One. I was Seven years old when the pain started
it came like an apology note I didn't ask for
like a bullies mom making him say sorry because he had to.
You were my sad excuse for an apology
you wrote your sorry on my skin
etched it in sin
and stole the security of my seven year old self.
Months after the days got cold
and my body was looking for some sort of warmth
found inside my sexuality-
I broke down.
Too many '4am picking mommy off the ground's
and '7am dragging myself out of bed's
too many fist fights with walls I never won against,
too many knives hiding underneath pillows-
and I wonder why I have attachment issues.
A swinging belt from my ceiling fan
that wasn't strong enough to hold my frail 7 year old body
I didn't break anything except for my spirits
the pleather wasn't secure enough-
I have been afraid of commitment ever since.
2. The day I saw your face withering away-
cancer etched inside your skin like sand
and the daylight never seemed like daylight to me
because it reminded me how the next day
was just 24 more hours closer to darkness.
As the days passed, your strength diminished
and as I saw you break-
I started to remember the things my 7 year old self went through.
I kissed a boy for the first time and remembered how it felt
the musty basement smell and the hands around my waist-
in that moment I was in a time machine
reverted back to my childhood and reminded myself
why exactly I was so scared of commitment.
My grandmother's face transformed into a stranger
and as I looked into the mirror so did I.
I would lie to everyone and say that I was fine
took some pills down the hatch to make it all better
until one time it was too much.
My stomach didn't know the words
my lips were trying to sing
they couldn't handle the music inside of me.
So I regurgitated a chorus of falsification
and threw up a string quartet of lonely-
I've never really been good at reading sheet music.
3. My doctor painted a picture of me
she put a dark cloud over my head
and drew me into what she wanted
she titled me "depressed"
all I wanted was for her to fix my stomach pain
but instead she fed me pills-
levels in your brain can be fixed
but she wasn't altering the right chemicals
I took a nosedive.
Saw what she drew for me when I looked into the mirror-
it was nothing but 15 more pounds
of what already brought me down
so I wanted to be auctioned off to the highest bidder
heaven had in store for me.
So I painted my own picture across my wrists
but the paint brush wasn't thick enough
and the red didn't spill the way I needed it to-
I've found I'm not much of an artist.

1. I met you around the same time
I found myself-
around the same time
swing sets were more home than my own
and soccer fields were my safe haven.
Middle school love triangle-
you cheated on me with my best friend
I thought I loved you then.
You drew me a picture of us together
and stitched together a weird stuffed animal
I found you weren't much of an artist.
2. The bottle and you fell in love
and I was blinded by lonely-
the affirmation was my drug
and the Jack Daniel's was yours
I was accustomed to the chaos
and the inconsistency.
You brought back the bad memories
and they sung me to sleep that night after
as the chorus of your hands on my hips
led me into an abyss of heavy metal
which led to the silence of my cell phone the next day-
I was never really good at reading your sheet music.
3. Timid was the way we connected-
felt a sense of insanity from the start
and anxious like I never had before
you changed the way I saw things
molded me into yourself
and took the grips of my reality
and let them fit inside your box.
Every instance of socialization
would turn into an argument
then I would succumb to the solitude
All because I cared for you.
You're a lot like my father-
I never realized it until I left you there
almost in tears standing in your driveway
you watched me walk away.
As I see you now with clear eyes and a not so heavy heart
I realize you're a lot like the belt I used-
not strong enough to hold me up
but still you contributed to my downfall.
I laid on that ground for some time
saw as you confirmed my suspicions
of old feelings for exes and your girl friends,
morning texts to my cell phone on how you miss me
how you ****** up losing me
texts back from me agreeing with you
kicking you off the high horse you once rode upon-
realizing you never appreciated me as a person
not until this love slipped through your fingers
and you were forced to realize it was you
defense mechanisms became your fortitude
and you tried to act like this knife I returned
didn't stab you in your heart like it did to me-
I've been afraid of commitment ever since..

1. Memories do not control me-
they kept me inside a cage
and watched as I outgrew it
prying the bars away from my hands
the memory can't touch me anymore
2. Two of these people don't belong on this list-
because they only showed me what love really
isn't.
3. Don't even think about falling in love with me, or hurting me-
unless you realize you will become poetry.
3. I've been afraid of commitment ever since
I realized you weren't a very good artist
so I've been racking my brain trying to read this sheet music
but I realize now who the **** needs sheet music
when you don't play any instruments.
3. Im tired of being around people I cannot read
seeing things that remind me of my seven year old sin-
take away the bad and remind me things can be good again.
3. Now I am invincible-
because the list of love will grow
while the other will be just a list to me.
Listen to me...
don't fall in love with someone who writes poetry
they will make beauty out of your tragedy
and sonnets out of your personality.
3. Personally, that's the only beauty I'll ever need.
The one that comes from me
shoots through my fingers quicker than
1, 2, 3-
I can count all the times I've tried to **** myself on one hand
1, 2, 3-
I can count all the men I've ever loved on the other
1, 2, 3-
but what I can't count?
All this poetry that became of me
because of those 1, 2, 3s.
And that's the best **** part about tragedy
you turn it into your own masterpiece.

I have mastered the art of invisibility again-
you don't see me the way you need to.
I don't show my emotions anymore,
hiding away this vulnerability
denying myself the ability to feel again-
you don't see this the way you need to
I don't want you to
see me.
Not like this.

I have mastered the art of hiding again-
alone in this spot I have found for myself
you're getting too close to finding me.
I don't want to be the one left looking,
I'm afraid I won't be able to find what I'm looking for.

I was never fragile
never let another's opinions sway me-
You ruined me.
Showed me what jealousy was
and let it rip through my flesh
until it was the only thing left of me
it's still buried beneath the cracks
awaiting to come out at every crevice
I wish I knew what trust felt like.
I wish I didn't have to lose it so badly
I wish you didn't steal it from me.
Why do you wander on my mind
like a bad memory that creeps unexpected.
You are a common cold
the thought of you lingers
and there's not much I can do to make it go away
other than sleep and comfort food.
I've mourned my entire life-
I'll continue on just fine again
mourning everyone else
like they're just another pair of eyes I wear.
I never saw your eyes
they were always bloodshot and broken.
You never saw me
your eyes were too busy hiding.
I don't want this mess you made for me, so ******* clean it up.
Take this feeling from my gut
this anxiety you left me with.
Take this love I so selflessly gave
and remind yourself how selfish you were with it.
I hope one day I forget you-
and all the ******* you left
creeping inside my mind
and hiding beneath my insecurities.
I will mourn for you,
I will move from you.
No longer will I be frailge.
No longer will I be sorry.
I am stone again.
Harder than most.
One day I will become a diamond.