If the area is clear
I will let my mouth speak
The struggle Ive been through
I will make it known to you

Pls, allow me to grab the mic
Just for this time
So that you will not be confuse
In what am I going to say

I will lay down my heart
To avoid pride and selfishness
For this will be my greatest confrontation
Ever in all of my life, Im so nervous

Let me configure the wrong things
The puzzle which running inside me
For a good reason to value
Over this case named life

I wanted to breathe again
Without this barriers that I set in
Long, long time ago in this place
Called the body of Christ

Forgive me, I admit that I made
A lot of mistake, unnoticeable
Imagining things which unpleasant to you
All my yes were all in vain

I know I broke your silence
Your world seems avoiding me
As I saw it, clearly in my both eyes
I sigh, how can I step out from this?

Great is the mess that Im building
It is much taller than skyscrapers
No aroma of blessing can be smell
Instead, burden like a pieces of log

Hope this will be a tool
For us to meet like first time
Forgetting the past faults
And continue living in Agape

A gust of wind
spread them far and wide.
Wading through blades of grass,
crawling through mud on my knees,
feeling for those jagged edges,
I place together, piece after piece.
Some caved to the power of the wind,
crumbled in the face of glory,
a few drowned, or let themselves go,
with the river that ran in fury.
There are many glaring holes
than run so deep,
the picture looks bleak,
but the ragged pieces will fall,
albeit in the end of it all,
I will truly have,
to show the world
a wonderful story.

i can't recall at what age i no longer feared death.
perhaps it was the day i saw a dead raccoon in the street,
puking its insides outward, like it ate something regrettable.
or maybe it was the day a suicide attempt brought a body to our shore
and though i was told to look away, i could not.
regardless of what brought me to this state, here i remain,
dismantling razors to get to their blades.
my skin has always been dry, like canvas,
so it only makes sense to use it as such,
a storyboard of misery and anguish covered my thighs
because anything was better than feeling numb.
i sometimes fantasize about what it must feel like to die
is it similar to the feeling of a sunshower on your skin,
or perhaps the wind dancing through your hair?
i've been dying to find out.
i'm aware that death is a fad these days
whether overdose or accident, slates are wiped clean
past mistakes erased.
if the promise of a swift and painless demise could be universal,
i'm sure more would feel the same as i.
what's scary is the pain, the unimaginable pain
that accompanies swallowing a fistful of pills or a swig of bleach
it's agony.
i've found myself closer and closer to reaching this point,
this point where i've no reason to be, and god,
it's so hard to backtrack.
in the same way that it's difficult to breathe easy,
the nearly impossible is found when i try not to mourn
what i haven't yet lost.

he is having a adventure of a lifetime with every move he conjures
he is the soweto dancer
white supremacy on his throat and *****
he still moves
he's kept that secret space inside secret
no lynching of a thousand black bodies can untie his bond to his gas
he is of this earth
for he moves so seamlessly with it
he is the black dancer that has dazzled
time and time again
he is from brooklyn
ouaga
bahia
soweto
kingston
Marseilles
abuja
he is the black dancer
motion his breath
expression his concubine
juju his solemate
he is bojangles storyboard p pantsula
pantsula
pantsula

sometimes i regret the endings
i chose so carefully for us,
plagued by constant what ifs,
scratching my pen at the storyboard of you and me,
trying to start another chapter to the book i loved for so long

i can only pray that
you stay missing me
and i stay missing

Dirt and mud,
I dig through the blood.

Buried bones of the unnamed artist.

Commit ******, floorboard secrets
Hidden in the walls of the house
inbetween the pages of a storyboard fairy tale life.

I shovel through the muck and mire, I sweat and bleed and hide my work.

Selfish desire.

Digging for truth, digging a hole deep to bury the secrets and with the corpses and the secrets they keep.

Look inside and you shall find what you seek,
Desire.

I shovel the dirt, cracked soil and ****** ground
Oil and gold hidden in rock and earth

Bury the bones on which I wrote a story for the ages

A human time capsule, ****** was the way only way.