I have seen raw violence & I hated it.
Confrontation is not my thing,
I would rather write you an essay of emotions—
Arguing is bad for the heart,
regret & hate incites stress,
I’ll give you love until you can help yourself
In the form of rope climb or hang yourself.
Quicksand, thick mucky mud,
please let go of my hand.
Good luck using words on me,
they just add to my dictionary.
Physical hurt is for felons,
a frustrated baboon with uncivilized brain functions.
Jealousy is the platform for amateurs,
a reckless life is no difference from being a whore.
My care is volunteered, my love is retractable.
My plans are set in stone.
My soul is numb to the bone.
My heart is stacked to the core.
Weakness in heart & soul is a choice,
you will not be first to try & stifle my voice.
For how God made me,
you deem yourself a form of superiority.
Then where are your blessings?
Your wisdom, eternal bliss, happiness?
Your flow of love from everybody?
Your sheer joy for all life & humanity?
Tick tock, it won’t be long to see 50,
your youth departs, you have no legacy.
Yet nothings changes you still,
incomprehensible why you do the same things.
It’s fine to make mistakes in your youth,
but your declining age will soon predict the truth.
Your pride, your ego, your hate defines you,
I can smell you, run away, I see right through you.
Say & do to me what you must,
My soul is etched in cement & much—
things you could never imagined,
how I came to have this thick repelling skin.
Time is not our friend
you wasted it, which is the ultimate sin.
Though it hurts me immensely to walk way,
I refuse the stench & quick decay.
Sometimes silence means things are better,
most times it is hiding shame & inner suffer.
I am a wise woman I know better,
I have a soul of bricks & leather.