They Took My Voice
They took my voice.
Changed my cries into chants,
Turned my screams into propaganda,
And said the black, that is my life, doesn’t matter.
They took my cadence and made it an attitude,
They mimicked it, claimed it as their own, and deemed it as ‘cool.’
They took my anger, and turned it into a weapon against me.
Our voices must equal violence, that’s why I found it easier not to speak.
You see, they took my voice.
They took my poems, and turned them into essays,
They took my rhythm, and made apps and became millionaires.
They took my time, and made me use it to suit their own.
They would ignore me, and sit away from me on the bus home.
They would stop me on my way home and ask me if I was selling drugs,
They would stop me outside of shops and search through my stuff.
They would have the cheek to tell me my fear was irrational,
But they were throwing my friends bodies against cop cars at 15 years old.
They would tell me my history was a lie, and teach it back to me rewritten.
They would send us home for lines in our hair, and tell us it was forbidden.
They would label people terrorists, and some mentally ill.
They would witness our abuse first hand, and still not intervene,
because they ‘can’t believe that this is real.’
They’d manipulate their power,
They’d make me feel small,
They’d threaten me without speaking,
I could feel the weight of my transgressions building in my throat like a ball…
No, I’m not shy, but you see… they took my voice…
I was afraid to ask the police questions when I’d see them at the bus stop,
One miss-step and I knew that I might not make it back to my block.
Been having these fears since I was 11 years old,
It’s a story passed down generations, and is still being told.
Imma keep it 2 Virgil’s with you,
They would rather steal your virtue,
Than think to apologise for the hurt that they caused you.
You wouldn’t know it, but you saw them take my voice.
That was until I tried my tongue, and reclaimed triumph,
As my silence…softly…
breaks.
uploaded: 27/06/20
I am the Problem
Watching her smile is like watching God create atoms,
From a fraction of her lips creasing, I can see my whole life with her.
A lump in my throat stuck under my Adams apple,
I’m adamant that I’m the Adam to your eve,
My crush blows trees in her pass time,
But it’s whatever though,
Whatever helps you feel more creative.
I was debating on proposing,
You know, make it sooner than later,
Because if we’re going off my track record, later never comes.
Anyway, back to painting what you look like to my audience,
Innocence in your eyes stolen by years of earthly experience.
I wanna tell you I’ve got you,
DRAM on Caretaker, but for how long
Before I get infatuated, have you on loop, then move onto the next song?
Anyway, the hyper-pigmentation in your skin as subtle as the blend on your soft glam,
Electrons positively charged whenever we touch hands.
Her pink matter better than what Frank wrote,
Diving deep into the appetite of oceans, wet by what my words connote.
The thought is tempting but I’d rather wade in the streams of consciousness that she hides from me.
Feel secure when figures like her reassure me that they trust me.
All her secrets, she confides in me.
But not too much,
Because then I lose my balance,
I feel overwhelmed,
rock the boat on purpose until we’re both sinking, and we’re drowning,
But I’m always a better swimmer,
Since when did treading water feel like climbing mountains?
Communication inaudible, all our words are muffled,
and I can feel you getting further out of reach,
How the hell are we supposed to speak, if I go any deeper I might lose myself in the abyss of your waters.
I feel like I can’t breathe.
Speak of uplifting black women, but that’s another development I’ve destroyed.
Is it self awareness or arrogance?
Wickedness or weakness?
It always starts from a shallow feature such as a smile, and me deciding to dive into the deep end.
I weaved past bastards, to hand-pick woven baskets, filled with apples from the Garden,
Just to tempt you into having a conversation.
Only to realise I was the snake in the grass, hissing to impregnate your mind with synonyms about your symmetry,
Because I saw a vacant heart, and found it accommodating.
Trying my best to steer clear of all relationships,
Because
I am
The problem.
uploaded: 27/06/20
Dreaming of You
If I die on my way home,
tell my mummy I love her like a good dream I woke up too early from.
Kicked and moved as you carried me stable above your naval for 9 months,
Mavis, you taught me that women were more than able to face any obstacle in front of them.
Show me the course, and I’ll run it for you.
Anything you need, trust me by the time I’m 33, I would’ve done it for you.
That’s 11 and half years left of working hard,
Your heart is scarred but you’re still so giving,
Never been given anything you couldn’t handle.
I know I say it a lot, but it’ll never be enough,
I love you, I love you, I love you…
You showed me how the belief in your own creativity can manifest,
You gave me an example of a black owned business,
that hustles gonna be hereditary.
And when I turned 18, my granny gave me £100 to invest,
In anything that I believed in, as long as it meant something to me.
My dad made me appreciate words,
I fell in love with the textures of pages,
And the power of prose,
And any emotions that my words could provoke.
You both made me feel like my mind was an astonishment,
The wall unit in the living room filled with trophies and my accomplishments.
And dad kept all our old certificates, and drawings and put them into his folders,
These are the moments I’ve learnt to appreciate as I’ve gotten older.
I spent years mad at you both over the lack of change in our circumstance,
I’ve spent 21 years on this planet,
And neither of you have neglected me once.
So if they kill me on my way home,
And force me to sleep for eternity,
I’ll spend the time dreaming of being with you both.
uploaded: 27/06/20
QuoteKwame 