They say that the sap can cause a reaction 

The way the pure, tart blood stains your fingertips 

As you puncture each seed with feen and rejoice

 

Craving for that citrus glow to foundation that deep brown skin of yours

You attempt to stimulate + waken humble thoughts 

 

To awake you, I give you Lauryn Hill as a gift from experience 

I give you awareness and the zest of motivation 

To spice up the nectar of love 

I give the blood of lust and passion 

That have left red memories upon your fingertips 

 

As evidence of life being abused in the hands of an idealist..

Who wrote these poems. 

 

As I slice into your flesh, I peel off the much valuable skin to save for later..

But I wanted to taste what was inside. 

I wanted to become familiar. 

 

I saw the way your core aligned improperly 

And the way the seeds that have been planted inside of you 

Began to turn black and rot causing the body of sphere 

In which you wore so beautifully, began to mold on the outside

 

This is what I imagined if I hadn't dug deep 

If I began an unrealistic attraction to outer vibrancy 

Having no clue of the intense sun beam that lies within you

 

I now know why they say you are prosperity.

Why they say you are godly. 

Why you are so favorable to health..

 

But to cool you down after having your blood on my fingers from digging so deep...

 

I gave you Lauryn Hill.