🎧click the audio to listen to the spoken word ver
I was taken at three;
Scorned by four,
Rejected, and
Infected by the
Foul bowels of
The wicked.
It makes one flat
To watch the
Fragile entitled,
Crying in their shoes,
Brand new and
Fashioned, they
Eat up our empathy
Like bloody rations.
Too many afraid
To speak thoughts.
Who taught you to
Bend backward,
Squeeze the lips
Until the heart breaks?
Who took your voice,
Your identity which
Doesn’t reside in
The validation of a
Popular populous.
I’m not afraid of
Criticism or the likely
Troll who crawls
From its hole on an
Argumentative tour.
Like flies they always
Hover, hoping for shit;
Never able to find it;
Not in the deep way
They desire the fight.
When you’re raised
In invisible chains,
Beaten and torn with
No safe place to
Call home you see
This world in realism,
No thought suppressed.
You become fearless.
When you grow up
With your mouth sewn,
Disallowed a choice
A voice, an opinion
Or a fleeting notice,
You become thick
Inside the skin.
Words don’t sink
Inside. We let them
Be and tarry on.
I’m not living this life,
By anyone’s rules
For me. I will walk
Miles alone just to
Own my own reality.
When the mind
Becomes steady and
You feel ready, be the
You they tried to steal.
Fuck the P.C. Deal.
It’s time to feel the feels
And take the wheel.
I’m driving sixty one in a twenty five
And there’s so much
I don’t hide that you
Choose not to see.
Believe me. This one
Will be expired before
The realizations set in.
When your worth is
Rooted in your own girth,
And the sacrum feels
Steady, the others
Become blurry like a
Flurry of feet making
Time with streets they
Never stop to notice.
Not the ones hoping,
Their hands on head,
It’s a dead society of
Pompous piety.
You can’t lie to me.
You can’t hide from us.
We are always in
Your dust, tracking
The way you deviate.
Watching the way
You demons hate
The best of you,
Cuz they’ve made
A mess of you.
But the hybrids
Are here, dear,
And you have about
Sixteen minutes
To figure yourself out
Because time is of the essence
And we’re advancing.
And you have about
Sixteen minutes
To figure yourself out
Because time is of the essence
And we’re advancing.
Vennie, this made me cry.
This is survivor truth with the volume all the way up. I hear the refusal to be managed, the refusal to bend into silence, the insistence on owning your reality.
I don’t take every line as universal, but I recognize the core of what you’re saying: when you’ve been forged in harm, you stop outsourcing your voice. You drive.
This is fierce, honest, and unapologetically yours.
🖤🌑✨