Labelist theory states: If a person is labeled something they are not and they don't agree with, one day they will stop defending themselves and be exactly what they are accused of being.
I'm being called an arsonist by a jury of my peers. By a jury of people who hang with me but now listening to someone who solely wants to see me dangling. I find myself constantly trying to protect my image like copyrights. But no matter the protection plan I enstate, I always find my name somewhere being defaced. I guess respect, loyalty and friendship wasn't enough to protect something like that. If it is then why am I catching charges. Why am I catching OJ treatment when yall say I will be missed like Ladanian on the chargers. Why is action only taken when the news say to take someone out like Michael Vick and not when a player asks you to look at the real problem like Colin Kaepernick. Maybe I'm not the one on trial, maybe this trial was a trial and error to see if this jury was a jury of my peers in the first place. And if this is the case then this a mistrial because I won't allow people who say they will miss me like Ladanian to the chargers be the same ones to take everything I worked with to another area code and call it by the same name. You can foot me the Bills because this is a OJ glove that I see fit. I am arsonist to the ties we had because that same rope won't be my nuse. I set fire to all your expectations of me because I won't watch my name get defaced like your personal property anymore. I accept your label for me with open arms because there is some borderline truth behind every sterotype, rumor, or lie because I have found mine.
I burn **** between my lips. one by one. ******* them down with skill. Skull to lungs, ashes to ashes. I am the smoke of myself that gathers deep inside and prowls out, darkly like faceless men at night sunken in city pavement, pacing towards desire. And so the word saunters and spirals, clouding upwards from my red hot tongue. I watch it as it leaves me. I lick my lips of the sting, and ash drips on my shoe. I take a deeper breath. and look ahead. perhaps smiling, perhaps darkly. As it twists itself into nothingness, sinking headlong, like the private history that it is, into the ignorant, pretty sky above.
The use of the word "***" here is, of course, meant to be a double-entendre. I swear I'm not British, nor do I have an affinity for cigarettes. ;-)
If I am writing about you now, then you have stolen from me something as precious as the gem I was named for-- my voice.
Though, I'm afraid our encounters were never quite as cinematic as Disney's animation-- no tantalizing mist of green shrouding our figures, no sweet harmony evaporating from a frightened, rouged mouth in wisps of golden light, and absolutely no happily ever afters.
See, you've always had a catty flair for stepping all over me like a Just Dance Mat-- yes, I'm quite familiar with the way you toy with others, myself included; and the pawn has never defeated the Game Master.
Call a ***** a *****; I know very well that I can't change you or what you did me.
I can't undo the hurt.
But I can reclaim my voice.
Through poetry, I will say all the things I wish I had the courage to say to you way back when in response to your cruel fuckery.
I will expose you for what you truly are-- a petty, self-righteous sea (witch) *****.
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!
(P.S. Use a computer to ensure an optimal reading experience.)
You praised my heart and helping hand And for the longest time I could not understand How any of that could make me special Until you used those words to describe her And how perfect she is.
And that is the paragraph on how you broke my heart for the first time ever.
But even in my darkest hour, my darkest day Your doings could not take my humor away. I am more than what you did to me, I am more than what you made me feel.
Even when you broke my heart I could not be mean enough to try and tear you apart. I cried so many tears, But for the next few years I wished you only the best.
Even after you left that gaping hole Right there in the very centre of my soul, I could not hate you, never hate you Because I loved you, always loved you Beyond your kind heart and helping hands Your everlasting patience and my high demands You understood me like no one else had ever done You listened to me when I was undone You cared for me when I broke down And then you took my heart, my very crown.
You broke my heart, my spirit, my pride But the one thing you could never take from me is my reflex to fight I'll fight your impact, your demeanour, what you made me feel I'll reclaim what you took me from me and reveal Once and for all what I know to be my greatest strength My love for myself. And that can really For real Unlike you And what I once allowed myself to feel for you Last the entire length.
It's time to burn the bridges I built While you were widening the gap. It's about reclaiming parts of me That I trusted you to hold. It has nothing to do with you. You've done enough damage, This is my fire.