I grew up in the putrid decay of trauma Trying to reconstruct the systems drama Playing a part of victimized slaughter. Of every word of hope I had, every laugh Every stab, every push in the back every part of love I lack Every piece of hate I contract. Man I'm losing track. Keeping every Jenga piece in the stack. And I hate the negativity I attract. Thats why I’m trying something new. Turning my progression into something true. Every copy, Every piece, Everything I do Constructed into a new brand of truth And as time is passing. Voices are still asking. Why is this white kid up here rapping. And I ‘ll tell you why this is my passion. I hate the thought of our trauma crashing. Making the better of us while the devil is laughing. And in a corrupt world where body’s are stacking and hurt is open traffic. And the only frequency we receive is static. And the fact that my mom was an attic only adds comfort to my panic. This system is nerving ending. And the shock is sending a mixed wave of pending impulses. And when the action is constructed, Their only thoughts are the past your stuffed with. Gagged and fed in. The hate of what you did that you’re continuously stuck with. And no matter your current sins. You are still given the opportunity to be forgiven. Points are misconstrued. Any question, Every answer. Anything you choose. Lets pick one to re-construe. Our systems are filled with hate. Abuse to recreate. Siblings are disconnected. And our worlds are fed with the continuous negativity within our media that our minds our sent with. Peace within the races is drifted apart. And theres no light in the dark. Only bodies of morals that were taken from the start. Blood fashioned into a negative art. There’s racial divide right where the lines are. And the distance of peace is mile like far. Crimes committed every hour by the powered while someone innocent is arrested every hour. And when the diverted posture of hate is playing a part to keep our mouths sour. Eyes are closed. Centuries of neglect rose. And hatred is like fire ready to emerge from the stove. And our ideas of morals are completely distorted. Warped and contorted. Flooded with the pattern of systematic blood. Ideas of change are purposely adverted. Not enough pineal glands Removed from the skin when the knife is inserted. The system designed to keep us devoured. Within the difference of civil slavery and power. You want something to pray about. What about the neglect of the deaths of the ones who are left. And yet we are still having *** with the devil, who is the one to meddle with our lively hood. And yet those things aren’t understood. The first thing to truth being unearthed is. The possibility of the word ‘could’. And then change can finally give birth.
My heart hurts... and I feel burned... I feel USED! AND ABUSED! AND TORN!
I'm not mad at you but at me. I just.... want.... to flee.... INTO YOUR ARMS!
**** you don't like rhymes, I'll stop. Why could not I have been ready for you when you were ready for me... I'm sorry.
I cried when I saw your book of scraps and pictures today. Never have I ever, felt, so, loved. I guess I thought it was a game. Time to stand up cause I lost, never have I ever.
Because you weren't a game but a person, that's been used and abused yet somehow stayed true despite the blue....**** there I got again. I do it cause it's easy. Unlike you, I just... wish we could anew. I'm not sorry I still love you
I'm not sorry I still love her and I'm not sorry it still hurts this bad. The worse thing is I don't know if that was the best love I've ever had or the best love I will ever have. The only thing I'll actually be sorry for is if she she's this and is conflicted after I promised to be easy. I just wish I could scream this for the gravity in which it's in me.
i was in love with all the broken things and the things others left behind like guitars with missing strings old record players that skipped a few beats dusty books that fell apart and people with already broken hearts -k.j.c
I feel lonely every time I think of you; My first love I thought I found the perfect match for me; The match for my heart But you slipped away between my fingers Now you belonged to me no more; The saddest sad
I must fight each day and night to live and love again; Like I used to be I'm counting on time to pass quickly but time is infinity; Eternity is a long time What is wrong with me? Do others feel the same way or is it only me, myself and I? So, so crazy for you
I would wait every morning and evening; Even for eternity Until you come back Whether in this life or the next I want to be with you forever and a day; My first love.
When my best friend lost his first love, he never let go of her. Though he managed to move on, after a long time, he still feels her in his heart and loneliness blooms too much when he thinks of her. I hope that one day they both could unite.
Eto ako ngayon, nakahiga kama ko isipan ay walang laman kun’di ikaw. nababaliw sa bawat senaryo na kasama ka. Ilang beses ko na naisip at na plano ang gagawin sa oras na dumating ang panahon na kailangan gumawa ng desisyon kung pagpapatuloy ba natin ang ating pagsasama. at ilang beses ko na ding nasagot ang sarili na oo.
Kase wala lang naman akong hihilingin kung’di ikaw na nag papatibok ng puso ko.
Ang taong pumupulot sa mga basag kong piraso, at binubuo ako, gamit ang ginto. Kase ang mga hapon ay may sining na kapag ang isang bagay ay nabasag ang ginagawa nila dito ay ginagamit ang ginto bilang pang digit. Para sa kanila, ang bagay na iyon ay mas maganda at kabighabighani kesa nung eto ay hindi pa nababasag.
Ikaw ang ginto na bumubuo sa mga basag kong piraso.
Kintsugi = The Japanese art of repairing with gold.