I'll write poem that'll seep beneath your skin so deep you'll have to exfoliate for weeks just to get it out. I'll write a poem that'll rattle your rib cage because your heart has laid dormant for too long confined between the bars of apathy and ignorance I'll write a poem that'll plant seeds in your lungs so all you ever breathe out is tenderness and I'll watch the seeds sprout and take root in your heart, grow a vine around your veins so you can't move without beauty spreading across your entire nervous system because maybe that's what you need- you need something that tells you you're worth the fight of that there's still plenty of hope to go around because you see sunlight still dances on dead trees long after the last autumn leaf falls to the ground you see, I know how cold this world can be they mail you hate and slander slip war and disease under your door; you sit in the 7th pew every Sunday morning but you haven't heard a sermon in months because all you can hear are the orphans crying or the homeless dying or the unemployed trying everything they can to fill their child's empty tummy but you just keep going to church you've learned to auto tune the cries of all the broken people around you into background music while you fill your own head with lies and excuses for letting your brother suffer when we were never meant to even live apart from each other my mother always told me if I want to grow I have to water my heart this is gospel wake up it's time to start drinking your wine in glass not a sippy cup you were never meant to ride through life with your training wheels locked tight to complacency the inscription in your genetic code has been baffling people in white lab coats for centuries nothing about you was made to be ordinary wake up this is @ America and even though you are #blessed i suggest you log onto a new server because your follower count won't impress the oppressed this is gospel don't you feel it in your chest wake up grow up wake up I grew up in tulsa Oklahoma where it seems most people have for their Bible Belt on too tight it doesn't fit quiet right so they spend their days and their nights trying to readjust a buckle that was never meant to bend them out of shape, to make them buckle under pressure of a weight but they're too occupied with do's and don'ts to escape the legalistic ways they've lost their faith wake up you can't breathe smoke rings into cold air and pretend you're old enough to shake cigarette butts out the window when plenty of people are already dying from lung cancer you know growing up sounds a lot like self destruct these days we're all just broken people looking for better ways to fill ourselves or **** ourselves faster running towards the next best thing that promises to stay because if you take a look at your addictions you'll see your pain is self afflicted be convicted we were never meant to live in contradiction saint on Sunday sinner every other day of the week and you can't catch your breathe because you're too weak to seek any help your lungs are too small to carry anything but love give God his breathe back and He will wake you up