I am not your pain
I am not your silence
break forth from where there’s stain
take off all of these hurting absence.
Clasp your hands, chant it from your mind
I, who knows will of course fix your kind.
There’s a meeting ongoing with time,
It has an ounce of pain itching
in attendance along with the heart.
Sometimes it gulps misplaced priorities
like promises of metal painted gold.
Time claims to heal but for now it hurts.
Of course I will stand tall for you
I will protect your fears
I will guard your insecurities,
I will head for the sun to shade you,
I will not let your doubts drown you.
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.
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.