The thoughts that had been bugging me.
It was if I was raging at the world.
For people to stare me down.
But, I didn't care... I had to do something.
It had come to a head. I took my pen and
popped the black head of hair. Forth came
the puss of she words. The female cries
and laughter. I felt liberated. Not a male
bashing liberation, but a human to be freedom.
No longer a slave to those hidden verses.
I itched to blurt out and blot onto the page.
My life... My life...
I would be lying if I said I did not fear.
It had been spoken, the scribe engraved
in the mountains of my heart. It had been buried
as a rough diamond in the coal soil. I spoke
but you did not listen. My ghostly syllables
vaguely scattered between a pair of eyes.
But its okay now. You can read between the lines.
I have spoken my peace all over in ink.
Every black letter is a beautiful drip of me
releasing my truth. My life... My life...