When did being yourself amount to such pain? Exile from town though your soul is still earth bound. I found you and I changed I tried. My masks held no cresses i wanted to be for you what you hold to be truth. My heart could form love made quicksand berrying my face in its many masks. But slowly the masks where harder to find. Like they end of time my own thoughts where seldom made. not noticing my true self was showing its face. No I was not a bad man nor am i good. I am me not he not she me. I disliked the Rap and R&B music for sometime after that. the pain that it reminded me of the deception my flaws. She wanted a gangster a man to like what his race claims as his own. She wanted him to be excepted neglecting the things he secretly desired and longed for. But in his despair my eight month span of depression my cocoon i shed. My initiation into the rocker style furthering my isolation from those around me. After i didn't care anymore about life, blood, heaven or hell and became true to myself despite the taunts and remarks of other black men and women too close minded to see anything but a you neek soul. I realized i am not flawed everyone who judges me is. Everyone that values being a look alike of there favorite rapping gods and acceptances. The ones who shun all but those like there own tainted blood new age racism. the cowards that bring a gun to a fist fight. Yes I'm bitter my heart is scarred eight months is a long time to hate ones self with a blind rage. A year of happiness discarded by showing my true form. But i am a gift to the ones who will accept the unknown. My fangs extending daggers relaxing gums no longer needed to hide the passage to my heart. But as i have said my own little anthem or theme of being. the words i often use in times of selfrestraint that i need not have.
