Knock, knock-
who's there?
No one?
Just a pile of **** on your doorstep again
and look it's on fire!
But you know better than to stomp it out.
you run and get the water but by that time
your house is up in flames.
As you look out the window you see life running by
throwing his head back and cackling.
What a ******* joke.

Everything is **** at my doorstep again-
it won't be long until the flames wreck everything.
I try to hold on-
but it seems as if every time I try to be happy
life is patiently awaiting around the corner
to steal my smile and run away with my optimism.

Optimism has always been a two-faced *****
she will come around when you least expect it
and help you with a ****** breakup
but then you get a call
your aunt is in the psych ward-
and her husband has bone cancer, again.
So optimism looks you straight in the face
says, "**** this" then runs away.
Each time becomes more routine
and each time you get your hopes up
that it will stay by your side but it never ******* does
because this one seems to be blind.

Life is always the thief
a getaway car two streets ahead
before you even realize anything is missing.
Life is the one you see at parties
and you just can't remember it's name
so you just use dude, or homie.
But life isn't your ******* homie.
It robs you blind at your most vulnerable moments
and laughs as everything is crashing down.
Seems to me it sometimes has a soft side though
giving you a little slack when things are going too bad again.

Things are going pretty bad again-
but life doesn't have time for my **** anymore
it has a kid on the way
and I think he named it suicide.
The spawn is what keeps you up at night
when life can't handle you anymore
and you can't handle it.
There's suicide knocking at your door
but it doesn't leave a bag of ****.
It's just there-
reminding you all the time, it's there.
You used to babysit it-
feed it, give it nutrients to grow
but you realized it was too much work
and it was just intensely bringing you down.
So you had a dinner date with optimism
and you agreed to get back together.
But sometimes you wake up at 4am
and suicide is crying again begging you to hold it-
maybe even acknowledge it's existence..
You want to-
every ******* day you want to
just to stop the crying.
But you realize it's not your ******* child
it will never be your child-
and at this point it's getting a little too old to be babysat.

I would like to put into words the way you made me feel ******* crazy-
but you would just see them as an apology note written at your doorstep.
Your ears would close and all you would notice is that I'm standing-
right in front of you so I must be crawling back.
It is never that.

One-sided is the way we fell in love.
You told me you loved me first
I said it back when I actually meant it
but somewhere along the line the roles got reversed
and I ended up being the one who felt more in love
like I had to keep the strings just perfect length
or we would both fall apart.
I was never a jealous person but in your attempt to keep me
you became what held me back
and I guess that was your idea of keeping me.
You never liked my friends-
talked **** every chance you could get
and then wondered why I got so upset when you did.
Blatant disrespect.

My dad called you the wrong name last week-
tried to make fun of the fact we broke up
but I laughed as another's name left his lips
you were just as much of a stranger to him as you've become to me.
I realized we've always been one-sided.
My family doesn't ask when you don't come around
you've become just another face inside their world too
I bet yours do
and that you cringe when you hear my name leave their lips
Took the time to learn about your family-
but you never had the decency for mine
it was like you knew this wasn't going to last
or were you so scared it wasn't, you didn't even try.

You were my trigger-
my relapse back into old habits
my cutting addiction-
my tendency to repeatedly punch myself in the face
you made me feel ******* crazy.
So I just laugh when you say you miss me now
because I don't miss any part of you
aside from the late night **** rips
and cuddling asleep.
I only miss you next to me or inside me.
But emotionally?
You can miss me with all that **** again and again and again.
But all I will ever be is a friend.
I will never feel that kind of insecure, jealous and crazy
not the way you made me.
growth is not an option at this point,
it's mandatory.

Conviction in my confidence and conflict in my consistency.
My mind is on an endless loop.
It keeps reminding me that alone is the only four walls I need.
There's not much talking here anymore.
Just the sound of echoes bouncing off the things we wish we could say.
The silence tells more about me then I would like to admit and there are days when the sound of my own voice
is something I no loner recognize.
The lingering hope to proceed in this awakening, this coming to god moment makes my knees weak and praying isn't an option anymore
Because my hands are too preoccupied trying to dig you out of my throat-
Too busy writing down words I should be saying outloud or at least acknowledging to myself.
But even if I did they would all come out distorted and faulted and weak,
a true reflection of ones self.
They say intelligent people are more prone to being depressed
because they understand more of the harsh reality that is life.
So give me ignorance-
I don't wish to know how I want to kiss the nape of your neck forever
but I live in a world where forever is fleeting and reciprocation isn't working in my favor anymore.
I am never one to be rooted into one place, so I don't expect anyone to stay long enough to water me.
I'm half sun half shade
Both tend to work in my favor on most days.
But then there's days like today where I am awakened by the soft pinch of the reality
squeezing just hard enough to break the skin.
I don't want to bleed anymore.
I just want to be
But what happens when my mind will not let that happen.
I am a zombie in my wake
always searching for something when everyone else just ******* runs away
Don't worry, I only want to eat my own insides.
Rip them to shreds and turn me new again.
Basking the glory of what can be.
But someone cut off my head-
They did what I had been planning to do all along
And now I am alone in my solitude.
Watching as everyone around me realizes that I compared myself to a zombie and flower all in the same poem
All because I am one part beautiful
And all others destructive.
and it feels like I've been writing for hours
But I'm not sure how long it's been because time is never something I was good at keeping, kind of like you.
I am a broken wrist watch
stuck in time-
and you are a hourglass
always running out of it.

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.