I rolled down my window and I didn’t ask for permission.
If life was just about permission, how would we survive? How would we create?
Creativity doesn’t have to be a permissible mystery.
I believe everyone was born to create.
I rolled down my window and I didn’t ask for permission.
If life was just about permission, how would we survive? How would we create?
Creativity doesn’t have to be a permissible mystery.
I believe everyone was born to create.
Goodbye
my second love
the pain
you hummed
while you
beat your drum
to a word that’s
numb.
Goodbye
my second love
the chord
you struck
inside my heart
to turn me to
my pleasure.
Goodbye
my second love
the hate
you sprung
while you sung
your song
about
illusions.
Goodbye
my second love
the way you
mocked
my present day
with a rhythm
that made me
Crazy.
The mind of a woman
might leave you strangled,
might leave you blind
but never will it leave you
to stay behind.
The mind of a woman
might kick up some dust,
might kick up a city
but never will it kick up
to settle you empty.
The mind of a woman
might laugh and cry,
might laugh and smile
but never will it laugh
to lie to a child.
The mind of a woman
might start then stop,
might start to doubt
But never will it start
to finish not found.
The mind of a woman
can be many moments.
The mind of a woman
can be without a moment.
Take a moment.
Take a moment.
I saw the world
From the eyes of a misfit girl
Full of limitations, disappointments, fear
But then, my eyes were widened
To a pop
And the world spilled out some truth
So, I took notice
And I saw the world
And how it measured
Truth is:
It wasn’t fitting
It was missing
It was lost
And gone forever
When I saw this
I lost the
Girl
I lost the girl
And the world
From the eyes of a misfit girl
The sound of the rain
Falls like the sound
Of my heart
A river falling
To a tidy sea
Sounds like rain
Love taken all of me
My heart lies to me
She can’t trust the rain
When the tide rises
The river is silent and gone
She’s swallowed up
Love come sharp to
A soft beating heart
A river flowing from tide to sea
It sounds like rain
When the tide comes in
To carry the river free
My heart and soul
Cry sounds of rain
The tide has come to go
I look different to them
You see it in my thighs
But I’m white
Only my thoughts
Are black
And my heart
Is black
When I’m left alone
In the dark
And my space attacks
My mind to see
The truth in the culture
And my loss
In submissive lies.
I take my passive aggression
And I bite your session
Into a lesson
On my black confession.
– Kelsey Wit Some Jo