you

There are thoughts that have the power to trap me

You

The pen is my voice, but something renders me speechless

You

The paper is a consistent ear, willing to hear what consumes me

You

I have a love jones for that pleasurable pain, for it reminds me that I can feel at all, then you came along, and I started to fall, into what, I don’t know

You

I am at a crossroads cause I wanna cross roads, but I’m too chicken, well not chicken because the chicken did cross the road, but why

You

Langston hughes turned me on and I’ll be damned if you ain’t turning me out or away from

You

Shit like this is too true, so cliché, unfit for reality because reality can’t fit

You

I’m a broken record, not broken, scratched, stuck in one place

You

I found gold in a land of black

You

Where to go from here, what next, how can I, why not, when it’s right, who

You