Visual poem. I would have eaten the face off of God and Catholicism, then ditched the boredom of church services.
Violate these commandments, break them happily or at least break those that do not involve harming OTHER people. The whole thing is an outdated mess The "first commandment" was explicitly directed at Women.
So I assumed my whispers of darkness was the worst it would get. But conniving tricks of these women, God on my nerves they grit. I work through the thick walls of hate they've spewed around me. Though their negativity quickly envelopes and surrounds me.
I've never wished to be alone with the monsters and voices. But to be drowning in this animosity I'm left with so few choices. No, I don't believe I'm quite that dramatic If you listened to this shit, it'd be just as problematic.
My chakras unbalanced, and my minds untethered. My brain...
“Of Course We Are Ignored” ... A Poem written by Big Virge 21/9/2020
Of Course We’re IGNORED ... !!! Those Whose Art Is RAW ... !!!
When It Comes To Views ... That DEFINE The TRUTH ... About How It Is ... When You’re One Who THINKS ... And Has ... DARK SKIN ... !!!
And Does NOT RESTRICT ... How You Speak About Things ... When It Comes To Racists ... And Historical Links ... That Expose DARK Truths ... About Blacks Who Abused ... Those With DARK Hues ... Within Their Own Crews ... !!!
So NOT The Types Hand Picked ... To Be A ... “ Good Nig’ “...
I’m just so frustrated for no good reason I feel like I’m not being productive But when I try to be, I can’t get anything done It makes me angry that I’m angry And nothing seems to be helping I want to punch something so bad I was perfectly fine yesterday Feeling good and like I have most things figured out But today, I’m stuck in my own head Frustrated over nothing Feeling like shit It’s a feeling I get every so often But can never explain well The urge to punch something is strong Just to get the anger and frustration out
I have no tolerance for stress” You tell me in the morning As if it it were clothes You neatly folded And I’m the drawer You are putting them in Only the clothes are everywhere Just like the dishes And food no one is eating
“I have no tolerance for stress” You text me on my lunch break I did some cleanup You said we were fighting You needed presence Now you need distance Checking out on me In these last desperate days Before I get my severance
Did you feel it The shame of what you did? I did I wished I bit my tongue. Did you feel the wrongness, That you had no right- I did I wished I’d “minded my own business.” Did you know The way your action spread hatred? I did I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Were you embarrassed? When I said “that’s not okay” I was. I wished I could disappear. Did you really think Linger on your own words? I did I thought you might be right (Was I being too sensitive-?) Did you regret your actions ...
Copper lay upon his closed eyes Index to bound lips A solemn shush No widow cries The morning comes and light rises all the same His legacy is carved in stone, just a name to mark a fresh grave
Subdued as a boy, now a man to avoid Haunted by stolen years he barely survived Unable to process newfound feelings Forever two steps behind and drowning To entertain an illusion of safety he must silence himself Refrain from sharing his mind and crawl back inside
Too confused to experience new senses beyond his comprehension ...