This is Eighteen the size of thirteen,
with the ego of twenty something stupid
"we are young heartache..."
to heart ache we stand - love and life
and the streets
we breathe and eat
everything seems like "a battle field"
still I look for myself
asking who dat? --inside
the mirror and the heart
who am I ?
Love is rain, life's battlefield
my thirst
droplets on the window pane
thunder outside
rolls hollow from inside mine...

On the other side of my bedroom door
opposite George Michael's poster
faithfully ****
a married couple argue
about money, about fidelity, about anything
that leaves the blame
on the one who feels more empty
but somehow
momma's too smart of a mouth
wakes the Kraken
and a drunken man is not a man
when he loses sight
as his manly fists lands an eye
a cheek, a lower lip

This is eighteen the size of thirteen
defense against a wall of baller height of 6'6''
I crash against wood and tile
in a haze of screams and electric sting of pain
the smell of beer
and falling purple rain
from the iron blow of fathers
drowning his demons
inflicting pain
rather than feeling himself
his jealousy has morphed into a vicious wolf,
blind with red hate...

From the floor I grip her hand
our eyes speak with one another
as we wept and I vowed this - the last
time he hurt my mother
or any other...

Prince on the FM, a deeper rain
with a perfect anthem
for those darker days

When our tears were so deep
they stung
our hearts in its flood
purple rain and blood

this was Eighteen
the size of two hearts growing up
Gettin'
strong...