I was running down,
This sloppy hill, at dawn.
Where trees were inverted,
Leaves and roots—upside,down

A scorch I felt,
Under nature's belt.
Flames of sloppy rage,
Transpire with the corrupt age.

The scorch, now gone,
A wound, on me, lone.
Lone I was running down,
Wearing the dusty, broken crown.

I gave you truth-
You sent me silence.
I gave you peace-
You returned it with violence.

I shot my heart to you.
You-Neo, Matrix-
Bent over backwards
Just so you wouldn’t claim it.

I gave you secrets,
You were the pages in my diary,
Like keys played by all -
You gave everyone my diary.

I’m war-torn, scarred.
No peace where I lay my head.
My heart-Boomerang-
Like Eddie Murphy said.

A tragedy in these words,
My love shut behind a closed door.
Echoes of smiles, of laughter-
My heart, a chalk line on the floor.

“It is what it is,” they say.
“Leave. Let love go.”
But my foundation is cracked,
And love still seeps through the wounds.

It will not go.