#tears

When sisterhood are homes…

Dreaming of a home that was through a true friendship

A sisterhood

A safe place

Where you can be real with yourself,

To each other.

Judging each other character flaws

The ugly truths expose.

It’s cool because no one is perfect

And you know this friend wouldn’t dare use you in vain.

Their words are important to you

So you gently listen to them

Correcting them for the intent for them to grow

Never diminishing.

A true home where you know they are there walking beside you through it all.

A forgiving home.

A place where apologies is like the ocean.

Full of fluidity and energy behind our sorry’s,

Because we genuinely mean it and recognize when we have hurt each other.

A home where you are supported.

You are watered here like a flower because true love would never dare hurt you.

A friendship that’ll last not because you have common interest, but your soul recognize theirs.

Then I woke up.

I look around and I see selfish self intended love…

Friends who only hit you up when they need something,

Friends who can’t keep their word,

Friends who don’t support you when you need it the most,

Sisters who only care about their self.

I walk around and see friends that don’t talk for years and a honest conversation could mend their brokenness.

I saw greed that broke friendships apart realizing how money is truly the root that was dug up and a sisterhood bond turning brown ready to die.

I saw through space and time a beautiful home being broken apart because they have changed in a way where they don’t recognize each other any more…

I feel the loneliness and sorrow of friends being tore apart,

The ones you need you don’t have anymore.

They say it gets better with time, they say just forget about them,

But when you lose a friend that feels like home,

Nothing is a win.

Living on and trusting the universe it happened for a reason,

Hoping your days will get better.

For now the homelessness feels bitterness towards them,

How dare them you say.

The betrayal feels so real.

But the part we all forget is…

Did you see why they feel the way they do?

Did you receive a different perspective?

Did you let the water run dry when you could have led them to a river?

Was sorry too hard for you to say because you don’t like to realize your own wrongdoing?

Whether I was dreaming or whether I am awake nothing feels more painful than losing a home you thought was build on solid ground.

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Straight… No chaser.

It’s said to be no black blood left on this earth we build, 
One must know the resilience placed in our favor.
White people: we are the chosen one… 
maybe that’s the reason why you hate us so much.

You constantly tore us down for a lifetime of forevers,
You crippled us so horrendously that we could never make it out of these stippling situations you blame us for.
We must use proper English to even get a bit of your attention in a first round interview.
Yet our credibility doesn’t mean shit to you past our beautiful brown skin. 
I hate these people but I love the ones who are knowingly aware,
Who aren’t ignorant like you adventitious KKK’s believing in Columbus rhetoric but I digress because in your words that’s reverse racism.
I choose my words and I believe they are hurtful because of the criminal intentions you already did to fuck my own future,
How you kilt my innocent brother’s life in the streets and left him for dead,
And walked away a hero.

You hate us,
And guess what?
I hate y’all back.
Why can’t I perpetuate the same innate hate you have against us?
My notion is this: we are the originators of this world.
Our history has been recycled for us to sort through in order for us to understand our own self. 
Our upbringing consisted of tea cup revolutions and a bunch of treaty shit I can’t recall,
And all I remember where I came from was slavery.
Not realizing Yoruba culture officiated Catholicism. 
Not realizing we originated so many artistic platforms for y’all to steal from us.
Our Robert Smalls and Elijah McCoys not recognized. Yet Pagan holidays are present to keep our attention at bay. Media originates back to Merrill lynch which he made the notion to dissect our beautiful brains with your poison.

I want to go back to Africa.
Not realizing how I felt was just my soul restoring my lineage. 
You’ll never understand how we made it through. And still will.

An outlet.

U don’t want me no more.
I feel so sore
I don’t comphrend anymore
My heart is so torn
This can’t be real
I thought you could be the one that heal
But your eyes can’t hear
I guess I have had my last meal
However, all I thirst are my tears
How did you take my zeal
I can’t get it right
Mr wrong always seems so uptight
Why can’t I follow the light
Why can’t I finally get it right
Pain is always the end result
Please God help me revolt
Why must the wrong be sought
Why can’t I just be brought?
Why cant I love myself more?
i thought i did, don’t I?
Why when im in love, I just wanna get by?
Don’t we all deserve it all?
Why must settling became the norm?
Why must life be so scorn?
Why can’t we all just get along?
Please God show me an outlet.