Untitled

Self moderation.
What’s this world turned to?
It feels like something understood and beautiful.
Fake colors and pretty pictures of sunshine and rainbows blown up
So something new could grow in its place.

What will be your insurance,
To keep your space
So when you rebuild or when you’re ready for something different
You could take your claim and catch a break?

What’d you fall in love with when you were young
That took you through the most up and downs you ever seen
Make that x-y line not so linear when the test came up
What made you forget how it was all supposed to go when this came up,
That you froze.
That you still freeze
That you once froze
That you stop yourself later from freezing again
So you could have the space to blow up sunshine and rainbows
So you could grow something new in its place

Most people forget where you were when you fell off,
And they’re sure to remember where you’ve been
When you get back on

So maybe they’ll forget
That when you blew up some of the things
That you once thought was sunshine and rainbows
Turned sour milk and molded bread,
You took a beautiful part of them that you thought was ugly in yourself.

You stopped your world, and part of somebody else stopped too,

What’s this world come to,
Revenge,
And tying loose ends,
Evening the scores,
Not picking up dignity
instead maybe leaving some pride behind,
Leaving fists at rest by your sides
Just walking away
——————————————————-

Bitch who the hell wants to be hurt
And let the perpetrator live to see happy days,
Fuck coded language and beating around bushes
Why should I live in fear
So the next person can be saved after they took my lifeboat away

Wouldn’t you fight for your last breath?
Talk shit in the dudes face
Before he blows out your brains?
Or you’d rather lay in your casket
Saying, ” I could’ve faught some more.

But I wanted to be peaceful,
A bigger man than war.”

A better man than war..
Letting some dude fuck you like you a whore,
Thinking, “At some point, he’ll see me different,
And some how, things are just gonna change
And at some coming hour,
dragged through the door on its stomach
Pulled in by its swollen hands,
Will come,
Something different,
Something so overdue,
And bruised,
Something so minuscule,”
But that something,
Will be that thing to make you smile,
Walk away
Like his hand never hit hard against your face,
Or heat from whip never ripped into your back

Tears only get you out the game,
Dropped down the list,
Put bitch next to your name
Your pride and how far you’ll go to protect it is your only redemption

Young girl I know it feels like
He walked all over you then hung you out to dry
But you’ll be disowned and discarded
If you ever let them tears
Find way out your eyes

Us, our kind,
We ne’er cry,
Never let disrespect stick too long
It’s a one sided tape,

Handle that quarrel
Before you ever let your head down to sleep
Or you’ll find him
Getting at you in the worst way
In your dreams

You’ll climb, you’ll run you’ll walk real slow
You’ll drive you’ll sit you’ll wait,
And when he shows face
You won’t hesitate to make him remember
What you try so hard to forget

But Momma told me
You’re supposed to let your pride
Sit. Aside sometimes

Sit in the corner of the closet
While the man
Basks in shine
He gets from controlling you with lies

And when every one forgets your name
She showed me how to blend all the way in and pick a new side

To show.
To start over,
Blow up all those old sunshines and rainbows

And then finally learn to fight,
In a way where you win,
Carving your memory into their life
Like swastika in nazi skin
Of the last German soldier alive

Make him remember what you will never forget
How bad you wanted to cry sometimes,
But you forgot instead how to let those tears run out your eyes

Momma told me, you wait,
You wait until he thinks that it’s over,
Till your name becomes so new leaving his tongue
He tries to hold on for a little bit longer,
And then you’ll naturally be able to forget,
As he sits,
Rots in your hands,
Like putty in your palms
Use your tears to now soften out the kinks
Sometimes,

Once upon a time,
My momma told me,
Wise woman
That sometimes
It’s perfectly okay to cry

Keep on truckin’

That Springfield life was kinda fly kid. Lol

i’ll be good. i got me if you don’t.