Propelled growth

This Beautiful Storm

I was born empty broken and torn

Unbeknownst to me my destiny was somewhat written

By my ancestors woes and scorn

Passed down to me was the hurt and exclusion of a plain black woman

Yes I was born in a storm.

 Surrounded by questions black as my skin

Rejected by the people that DNA had placed to be my kin

My heritage was a storm.

I was taught to re assimilate my look so I could fit in

Switch up my talk so I could get in

Frown at my coils and opt for the straight in

Agree with everyone just so I could stay in

Yes I know a storm because I was born in it

Empty and cold, dejected from myself

I searched the darkness

But answers never came

I became the darkness

And yet I was still in the midst of the storm

I had become the eye

Destruction, torment and pain was I

Anger became my joy

Wings

Once upon a time came an unexpected man with wings
As beautiful as a clear summers dusk he came with wings
My eyes filled with his presence as if he was a new thing
With the connection of our eyes my world faded
inside he awakened a feeling so new I felt as if I was newly created
Before we spoke  the feeling of love and infactuation surrounded my heart
 this was a portrait that my soul could not bear to part
So I said yes to her man, and offered my body as an token
I gave my heart to her man, and offered my love and affection unspoken
I bore a child to her man, and endured pain, suffering and rejection in return
A fate that I knew I would be the only one spurned
And with this development a new image appeared, One much darker still followed by wings 
But the contempt in his eyes the disdain in his voice, garnered immense guilt within my soul.
So I became her mans prisoner, A s...

Propelled growth

This place here is not where I belong. This spot right here I surly can't sit long
The words the say. The games they play.
Got me some type of all confused.
Contentment must not lye here. 
Because I'm falling behind and still being used.
But I'm stuck in this vortex of life and feelings
Caught in the continuim  of reality and emotions
In the blink of an eye fact becomes fiction 
A second of solice when I believe I'm not on my own
Resting in the comfort of a touch and intrest
The exhilaration to be consumed and dissected.
 a need to be wanted.
But i can't stay here. Here is not where I belong
There is no peace Im tormented and confused
Here Contenment must not lye.
This place  there is no handle
And I desperatly need a grip
In this place my light is candle
Dimmed by a constand negative drip
One day the lig...