I've rode a bus to nowhere,
          but I wrote down every stop
to realize that
       even though we don't realize it!!
                        In our journey there are much
better places to get off than the last stop.

I'm a neighbourhood ******
of truth, I'll inject everyone
                               of you,
The needle isn't contaminated  
with untruths, the only thing
I inject within you is the truth..

Wannabe,
                false fashion,
                                          ripoff
that has only one place when
used up by those whispering
in ears like a messiah, of false
prophesies of riches that only
cloth the pockets of would be
rules of a patch that is never
                   theirs just a mirage of power..

I've been spat upon,
                            I have holes!
Of my consequences that others
have vented upon me from afar.
But I'm the neighbourhood
                                           ******
injecting truths, saving lives
          that would be caskets
                             silently cried upon.

We are only drowning
                       in shallow waters
if we don't come up for air..
But if we look above the surface,
               we find there is more left to breath.
We just have to look above the waves
                                            of our own discontent.

My momma threw me to
the curb like she had a
wanting to stomp me
         American history
                         X
                             style
to much of her wrong type
of love made her corrosive
                                          in my life.
Telling truths of what her definition
of love was, a gunshot bleeding
every time she let of verbal shots.
But I wasn't the fever that collected
within the palpitations of her heart.
That point which was quenched
                    by the point of her rage
every time she was coming
                                      down to earth
like she fell from orbit.
But I wasn't a footstep in her failing,
I was a shadow leaving her behind...
Sometimes you have to leave
                  that which you love..
to make you stronger.
If their there when you return
you know they were willing to change.
                  And if not,
you just visit there quiet place
and tell them you always loved them.

To survive sometimes we wonder alone,
      not to be suffocated by the rot of
       another's love,
she curb stomped my love, but I love her though..

We are but winds of thought coalescing
on the whispers of others
                              jumbled emotions.

Yet we suckle, like a new born's
yearning on to the verses
              that milk our emotions.

The connections of a trinity of untruths,
  where our humanity is not elevated
                      but stripped away gently...
The father of a flawed creation,
   all knowing but decided to make
humanity in a dictation of his image..
flawed like his worth... sin his gift!

               Shackled from our breath..
even though are breath is our curse..
The son born from a moment of
               non-consent, a child given
the burden of a deity even though
                     no words were expressed.

Father I have sinned with your birth.
The ghost of my reflection,
                       am I worth more than
what others think my past is worth.
Just because I don't concede to illogical
morals do I need to be a
                              ghost in humanities eyes.