Have you ever found yourself talking but not understanding what you were saying? Like it was all on autopilot? like your skin is not your skin? Your lips were not yours? This is my life. Found this poem in my papers. This was borne out of a time where I
I took the yellow brick road, clicked my heels, and went back home. But I returned to a much changed world. I felt like a foreigner, needing a passport to cross state lines. I’m not even sure if I’m still in the same country. A Stranger in a Strange Land.
Murky sound, traveling under water Mellow yellow light fills my eyes Clarity of expression through my fingertips Urban attack, swank bank between my thighs Stay woke, fam. Independent study of the lines on your face Fellowship of the Pen, Return of the Queen Capsule learning, getting to know you Adrenaline
You’re too friendly; You’re not friendly enough. You shouldn’t wear that; Flaunt it if you’ve got it. You’ve got big hands, really tall, you play ball? Why did you do that? Why didn’t you say that? You deserved it; You let him do it; You didn’t stop him. If it