“I dragged my pain into the darkness, I carried it into the light – No matter where I choose to take it, This pain refuses to subside. I washed my sins off in the ocean, I prayed all my badness away, Whichever God I choose to worship, I cannot make my soul be saved.”

She’ll find peace in the solitude, in the depths of the well. The darkness alludes to how far she fell. And perhaps, the view is better from way down afar, It keeps the water still In her reservoir.

Move from reactionary; seek neutrality. It’s the only way to truly be free.

My mother used to say “Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today” I say What can you do today to make the world a better place?

I survived the darkness. Crawled. Clawed. Endured. Untangled lies from truth. This wisdom is my sword.

I am worthy and steely. I will conquer again. Truth as my armor; My sword is my pen. Tell me I can’t and I’ll show you I will surviving and thriving is my refined skill.

He always preferred the way my eyes looked after they had cried. I wish he knew how fine they looked once he had said goodbye.

Cultural identity; warped and changed. Each of you thinks the other is to blame, It’s created this way, yet we all play a role. We could stop it today if we felt the truth in our souls.

Contemplation; intrinsic. I am aligned perception. A, perfected plan. I am ferocious and tranquil. Rising. Pain to power. Alchemic. Energising

How many wounds can you convert to wisdom? How much pain to power can you permute and fathom? This is your story; rewrite how it’s written.

Why do I see in a world gone blind? I always longed to find the answers, took chances. Asked for the veil to thin. Fault? Mine. Left questioning; my eyes, blessings or curses?

My bloody hands that hold on to faith. Learned that we grow with pain and not age.

The only way I’ll ever choose to taste sweet love again, Is if he tells me, he loves my mind, and the way I use my pen.

All my trauma grown to thorns, he overlooked it all. Perhaps they caused him to bleed in ways I can’t recall.

After the flood, the colors were brightened demand tears of pain to feel so enlightened. Lassoed hope from the clouds that caused it to rain, divine intervention to feel love again.

Perception is the paintbrush. The reality, the canvas. You are the artist. Create purposefully.

On my worst days, I give the devil hell. On my best day, I hold a light for God to dwell.

That old bald cheater, Time.

Eunuchs do not take the gout, nor become bald.

What am I supposed to do if I go bald? Get a wig? Fat, goofy, gay, wig.

I was an only child. I lost both my parents. By the time I was twenty I was bald. I’m homosexual.

Who lets slip fortune, her shall never find: Occasion once past by, is bald behind.

Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are bald. Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are carrotty. Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are one-eyed. He who kisses you, Philaenis, sins against nature.

Bald as the bare mountain tops are bald, with a baldness full of grandeur.

I know I been bald but I just wanted to remind y’all I’m still that bitch.