My mother always asks me,
Why I can never seem to sit still.
My muscles tighten and an excuse is quickly constructed,
In order to once again,
Avoid my biggest fear.
See, I never really wanted to play the quiet game,
Because as all others around me are captivated,
I was attempting to process the hatred that I thought my creator had for me.
Or why me and my soul mate were far from the same wavelength,
We were on different frequencies.
That is why when all conversation has been driven out,
Like runaways on southern plantations,
My thoughts takeover,
Constantly reminding me of the makeover that transformed my greetings to
“Excuse me ma’am” to “Excuse me Sir.”
Oops, I’m sorry,
Is what is played in my head every time I attempt to love,
Heart suffering from separation anxiety,
Because lines changed from “I love you B” to “I just think you’re too good for me”
Complexity is what you were lacking,
And though I worked out faithfully,
I never seemed to build up enough strength to send you packing.
Unable to process the present,
Due to the everlasting flashbacks,
All I asked was for you to turn the flash back around so I would no longer be blinded of my perception of what love should feel like.
If only I could command U,
Like Pro Tools in order to strip the silence,
Because I don’t want to think about how she screwed me over,
Or how he used to do me,
Impregnated me with your lies,
Just to leave me in a clinic,
Full of false pretenses and eternal pain.
Nafari would have been his name,
Coming 1st will never be a first,
And it hurts.
But you’ll never understand,
Because as quickly as you would cum,
You would leave.
So please turn up the music because without it,
Silence is all I have left.
Flood my brain with melodic harmonies,
For I refuse to deal with the though that,
I’m always falling in love with things(shit) that don’t belong to me.
Or how every few months I loose sight of my spirituality,
Forgetting to ask God for strength, Buddha for enlightenment,
And slipping, slowly into society.
Could you please,
Just place the needle on the vinyl,
Because the thoughts are worse than an ill prepared college student taking a final.
Son don’t question why I sleep with the tv on at night,
Because I’m afraid that my unstable thoughts will creep into my dreams,
And when the divine Sun awakes me from my sleep,
I won’t understand reality.
Some call it noise,
But I call it freedom.
Stay the hell away from me,
No, Not Now,
My mind doesn’t need to breathe.