1. |
23
02:08
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Emotional assimilation (is) trauma’s worn, scar-tissued skin, seared by state-sanctioned aspirations. Underneath my will to live clings tight my will to die, the silent secret of my strength is all the shame I’ve centralized. And all the people i see whose suffering’s steeped in dreams of nothing when their eyes close to sleep don’t see the void that they meet as so much more comforting. I dream of nothing when I close my eyes to sleep. Each day awake just lies in wait to shape, in vain, clean breaks away from daily debasement. Engage the escapist, unendingly inaccessible until ingratiated. I dream of nothing but ending my self-defeat. Apparently, my revealings of my injuries are just my manipulative tendency! And these techniques spoken to me about responsibility and integrity are just suffocating, placating sayings placed to efface me but I was taken through the threshold by the tension I espoused, fitted for full integration into a burning house.
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2. |
27
02:13
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Spite is its own overcommitment and a self-preservation instinct. Self-love is enough even if it’s only saying to yrself “I’m surviving” while passively practicing silence. Tell everyone that I’m thriving...As though I share ya’ll disbelief at the doublespeak dressed as apologies. Those closest to me cut me off when I speak. Macroaggressive and projecting, thus not worth mentioning. Backward I move too, but I trip over The cAsUaLTiEs, life lost is no cost for a lapse in humanity. Congratulate me, sight unseen. Congratulate me, a nigga finally free. You literally put yr hands on me and all you’ll ever get is leave. Take leave of the speech of the truth you hate and shout it down as fake, lie in wait, lie and wait. Lie awake each night, or D) All of the above, yo I love to lie and I live to love
On god I will not participate, lemme rephrase, no more faith in the process, potential as progress, or intangible sweet nothings prepackaged as promises. All them lil vacations in the crossfire between you and yr future selves, is of a trajectory of dishonesty that leaves transgressions propelled. You see the tragedy as yrs to manage, a wound if you grip tight enough you think you can bandage. I’ll only accept apologies in cash or true change, but I will reclaim my time all the same. Dolo, left to wonder, wandering, questioning what it is to mitigate my guilt in not standing up and saying what I just won’t tolerate. You literally put yr hands on me, yr anger was never surprising.
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3. |
30
01:32
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My wall is a garden of dark marks, interwoven strokes rapturously posted up, not ruins, but still sutured to a corrupt culture awaiting chances at its deconstruction. My whole family stillborn in the cut, living, working, dying as yr laborers yet labeled “non-essential” by you fucks.
Yr walls imported, pretty sure you used the word “glorious,” but you can’t both use and ignore us, or fuck and pretend to adore us. What type of love is only true in its desire to stay hateful? What type of world did you think you birthed where you thought I would be grateful?? You really thought I would be grateful??? U thought!!
I overanalyzed the size of the affect of life as a mark and an object of disrespect. Remade in H.I.S. image, redacted, refitted for symmetry, but over the border my future’s free of that conspiracy. Wishing to keep yr threats well-kept as yr weaponized debt is yr wall my nigga. My wall’s the earth and more than the dirt you tried to sweep up under the rug my nigga. You gentrified a whole continent with a whip on some hand-over-fist shit nigga. Tell me, am I still the embodiment of the evil that yr daddy did live nigga?
Yr wall is imported, I’m pretty sure you used the word ‘glorious,’ but you can’t both use and ignore us or fuck and pretend to adore us. What love is only true in its desire to stay hateful? What type of world did you think you birthed where you thought I’d be grateful??? U really thought I’d be grateful??? U thought! U cannot fucking steal my joy!! U thought!!!!!!
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