I know what I become
when I have reached home.
I enthrone the music of these problems
The genesis of my discomfort,
I am not an ally to trouble
so why all of these nightmares?
Tell me again, what have you said about me?
Did you say I was the son of the sun?
I can hurt like your words,
I can even cry louder than your attention.
Today I met some of you
in a bottle, in a plate, in a mixture of juice and gin.
I can’t tell you that really defines me,
for all I did was love you out of love,
I cared like a Wednesday,
I endured you naively,
with truths that had no tribal marks.
This is who I am,
a black boy who learnt the truth only later,
who can fly
with his wings tied to his chest.
It is who I am.
Please, please and please, please
I beg you, let yourself fly,
you are not meant to sit on this ground
while your blood is made of air and wind.
Open your heart and let these wings take you away.
You are not cursed to bend a knee for this.
What do you think I wrapped for you,
a pot of gold made with silver covering?
Do you think I bought the heavens
and put it in a box of butterflies?
I am not petty enough to bucket your tears
I am not humble enough to read your love letters.
So you think the reason I left you
was because you grew transparent like an ocean.
No! I am not worth that kind of pain,
My mind knows hurt but not how to train
against the running hills when they come to you,
even while we are valley and hills
mountains living beside a stream.
I heard a woman say once that
when you speak, its just words but
when you sing, you open your soul
and let who you really are shine through.
Cherie, you were not once a sad song,
you were the star that shines even in hell.
I feel the itching around my heart,
some days it makes me want to split open apart.
Lately, I feel the crawling in my neck,
like I am so much trouble to you, a piece of wreck.
I never forget that emotions are like insects
they come with some special effects.
How do you lace your feet to water
while your heart is anchor?
your will becomes a life jacket that drowns you
it drowns you till you become blue.
The color of water when it is angry
or holding the memories of hurting me.
Naomi told me today ‘hurt is inevitable so long light exists’
It only meant darkness comes not to stay
and worrying may never be the way.
She says the heart understands what we say
and even while we lie that its a play
we will dig a hole and still call it a cyst.
What I feel is not buried deep
I’m sorry if my heart feels the stir
know that pain doesn’t know how to skip
it comes with the ache as its pair.