I don't know what to write
I'm tired
Of everything
They say I look so happy
I'm tired
Little do they know
I've trained my appearance
To be the opposite of my
Mind and my soul
I'm tired
You look happy
Well darling the answer is simple
There is a war going on inside of me

Baltimore is bleeding,
Boys in blue blind to faces,
War being raged over races,
Can't tell what this place is,
Blocks where I spent my sundays,
******* with police and gunplay,
Hood up to conceal my color,
Complexion passed down to me from mother,
Hard to find peace when the avenues erupting
Nothing seems to matter when you're fighting for something,
So please pray for this forest of concrete and lamp light,
Scared for the events that are coming after midnight

you were the reddest,
most delicious apple
and i never had a choice
but to take the first
dangerous
bite

I race blindly
through this life
with the perseverance
of a woman
who knows
her cause
is lost
but
is terrified
of the bleakness
of her world
without it.

It has started
occurring to me
that I rely
too much on my
muses
to give me worth.

We are
too young
and I am
too small
to start giving
bits of myself away
to be stretched and
expanded upon
by others.

I cannot
be restricted
to dependency
or limit myself
to the dead-end
streets
paved by
people with names
I forgot.

I can walk
in whichever direction
I choose
and write words
that I will not
dedicate
to you.

I had all these little
perfections
hung across my life
like fairy lights
but now they're gone
and it will take my
eyes a while
to adjust
to the dark.

(don't) let me be the one to bring out your beautiful smile
(don't) let me be the one who makes your laughter escape from your lips
(don't) let me be the person who makes your gorgeous eyes twinkle
(don't) let me be consumed by you