Tribute to Left Eye ღ

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Left Eye was my musical inspiration. I didn’t try to copy her style, but her tough as nails, “float like a butterfly, sting like a bee” style made me rethink my inspirations for my music, writing, and poetry.

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Letting Go

Stab me again and again

But can’t let go

—Or won’t, whichever—

Heart still hanging on

Lips now turning blue

If I could only

Let go of the chains

And

Save me.

Too late now

Can’t breathe anymore

Can’t hold on no more

If I land on the floor

I’ll be all right.

If I’m too late,

Too stuck,

I’ll land on the rocks

And break again.

I’m not letting go

But it does seem that I’m slipping out.

“Death Signed” Brief Explanation

So, yeah…

Death Signed” is about something I’m working through right now. I don’t want to tell any of my friends about it until it’s resolved, but it’s hard to keep this much upset inside.

Make sure to tell your friends/kids: find a person who thinks like you. Find a person who would never threaten you. Find a person who would never threaten with or joke about death. Suicide is serious. Death is serious. If the person you call a friend can’t respect what you call serious, get out and get away. They’re not a true friend and it’s not worth it to struggle, cry, lie, and cover up to please them. Being alone is never bad. It won’t last long. Trust me. But it’s better to be you and alone than to fake yourself and be surrounded by people. Always.

Death Signed

At first it was great
Someone to talk to
Someone who listened
To listen to.
But that was at first.
When we weren’t together so much
Around as much
Friends as much.
Somewhere along the way,
Somehow one day,
You wanted more.
You wanted me as a friend
Best friend
Sister.
It was too much.
Being with you became too much.
No longer was it the slow approach
Of two different animals
Contemplating friendship.
It was a struggle each day
To smile genuinely.
I indulged you.
Like one would a child
Who holds a gun,
Trigger finger ready
Ready to shoot anyone
Everyone.
Now when I say it’s over
You turn the trigger
On yourself.
A warning to me.
To say that you own me?
Now I realize
You never knew me.
Because if you did,
You’d never
Threaten
Me
With
Death.

Mirror

Mirror mirror
In the sea
What happened
To make me lose me?

Mirror mirror
Before my eyes
Is losing myself
A real prize?

I try to please
Everyone else
Forgetting that I matter too.
I stay silent,
Nod and smile,
Use fake emotions
To hide the screams inside.
Some might think
My pain ain’t real,
But they’ve never had
The still bleeding scars
That I feel.

Mirror mirror
Dying quick
Where was help
When I needed it?

Tears in Life

[Song: Chasing the Sun by The Wanted]

They guide my fears
They watch my tear streaks.
For all our problems,
They always want to blame me.
A scapegoat,
Can’t escape the responsibility.
They never care
As long as they’re not scared, but me.

He doesn’t see others,
He only sees me.
He says that I’m the problem
But never that he hates me.
He claims love,
Yet always discriminates.
The youngest get his love,
The older are too late.

I never wished for much,
But can’t you see me?
Love has always meant so much
To me.
I’ll always love you,
As you can see.
But I don’t think you’re good for me.

I love you, Daddy, but I can’t be near you anymore.

I love you family, but I see that I’ll never truly have your support.

I’ll drift along alone, looking for that special one.

And maybe then I will see the real sun.

Ave Atque Vale.

The Life of Me

I once thought that I was a nomadic/hermit type person. I don’t particularly enjoy human interaction. I hate being around disrespectful people.

But I’ve realized something.

My dad just told me that I can’t go out and hang with my friends or go to dances. I’ve been to one dance. All of this because I made a mistake with scheduling my pick-up from the movies. My dad wants to make me alone because he thinks that I don’t value God enough. Truth: God is the most important figure in my life. More important than my dad. I don’t know if Dad knows this. I hope he does soon because I’m done. I’m getting through high school and college, and then I’m never coming back to my parents. I love them with my whole heart, but I hate neing alone and neither of my parents understand me at all. My mom is better about it, but my dad is just outright inconsiderate. He acts rashly and doesn’t consider the feelings of the other party when making decisions.

So I’ll stay locked up in my room for two years. I won’t leave it. Because this is basically what my dad wanted. He just didn’t realize that. But I’m not going to be his little puppet after that.

I can’t be alone. So I won’t.

Boredom is a disease.
Zaniness is the cure.

Shadowhunter’s Rhyme: Color Scheme

Black for hunting through the night

For death and mourning the color’s white

Gold for a bride in her wedding gown

And red to call enchantment down.

White silk when our bodies burn,

Blue banners when the lost return.

Flame for the birth of a Nephilim,

And to wash away our sins.

Gray for knowledge best untold,

Bone for those who don’t grow old.

Saffron lights the victory march,

Green will mend our broken hearts.

Silver for the demon towers,

And bronze to summon wicked powers.

— Shadowhunter children’s rhyme

87   88

Aside

So there I was in church yesterday. The Nigerian Catholic Community was doing a joint mass with the American community of one of the churches I attend.

The choir was a combination of Nigerians and caucasians and so are the songs. And there I was dreading how people might have started insulting my people’s music or saying that it didn’t seem appropriate for church. One of the ladies just turned to me from the choir stand while listening to my mom sing and smiles at me. And I had an epiphany.

Many stereotypes still exist because we expect them to. Black people expect others to downgrade them in society and underestimate their capabilities. They expect to be looked down on, so that inevitably occurs. We expect these circumstances, so we don’t always try to do our best or to overcome racism or stereotyping. Looking at some of my black friends, I think that we’re trying our best to make ourselves what we want to be. But then I look at black kids from other schools: some are doing drugs, others are getting drunk, and others act deplorably.
It makes me so disappointed in us as a race that we teens are acting this way and many parents allow it, yet we get upset when policemen do their duty. Granted, there are some who step out of line and abuse the power given to them. However, many just wish to be upstanding citizens and enforce the law so that others will be, too. I don’t believe that all policemen should be terrorized for the mistakes of the few, especially since we ourselves are doing so little to avoid the incidents from occurring.

It’s parents’ jobs first and foremost to be policemen and to keep their children from committing acts that will get them in trouble with the law. It’s our job as a race to do everything right in order to create racial equality. It’s our job as a people to not complain over our little hardships when others in this same great country suffer more. It’s our jobs to work for what we get and to take responsibility for our mistakes in life. It is not a right to have what we have; it is a privalege and an honor that we must respect.

Before we talk about equality for the people we need to better the quality of the people.

Boredom is a disease.
Zaniness is the cure.

Stereotypes begin at Home

Aside

The season changes:
Life to laughter,
Rain to sun,

Yet I remain the same.
Stuck with my old fears and worries,
Yet with no one to tell them to.
My silence speaks a thousand words,
But my screams speak louder.

Hollow screams.
Blank screams.
A blank book holds no message.
I am a blank book
I have a message:
Find me.
Find it.
Give me
A reason

Seasonal Changes