I hate my birth certificate
I'd destroy it if I didn't need it
it calls my mother a negro
she was 17 he was 24
first home a house of
brokenness things happened
we don't discuss such filth
swept underneath the rug
tripping on rising sidewalk
hard life bloodied me up
born 3:55 pm daylight
took my first step then ran
the rest of the way
felt like a lot of things
but didn't feel like giving up
wished one relationship
could last failing at every
last one attempted
a U Haul of regret
with a change of address
time lost spending it on
ungratefulness
watching who I was with
with another is like
ease dropping on
conversations
I don't want to hear
losing confrontations
with my inner self
sick in the stomach
on all I consumed
throwing punches at a
looming figure in the room
all I can do is live my dream
out loud in silence
fasting for momentum
instead of looking back
morphing into alum
a well oiled ophanim
sweating lubricant
all time lows
highfalutin foes
still choosing high roads