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