On turning 28 in the midst of anti-black fuckery

what do tainted years matter

when my Future is no longer interested in me?

the romance has faded

and though Life has

at moments

been a shoulder to cry on

and a voice of reason

even she could not break through to me

I, too stubborn to admit that I was in love

ran away from the embrace of my Future

I left her alone,

left her longing for the

faux reciprocity of love

I could have offered her

and while I was gone

Life taught me how to sing

and so... now I sing, I guess?

I sing the song of the caged bird

and while the world wants to focus on theories

as to why the bird sings while being caged

Life has taught me to learn the song instead

because the song

the song itself is more important than

the bird and its circumstances

it is a melody of realness

you see,

the bird

is aware of our human obsession

of enslavement

of ownership

of keeping things locked up…..

(to be continued)