I still feel the fear of yesterday.
And recent yesterdays.
I gave you all I theoretically have.
Which is everything.
Fighting takes a lot out of me, and puts me in weird predicaments.
I don't lust after random women.
In fact, I try to find the *you* in them.
My mother was your only block.
Then, it was revealed she may have been one of you.
Then there's doubt.
Then there's the shame of a rebellious mama's boy.
I didn't like following the rules.
But I wasn't a thug.
I was a geek.
A rebellious, talented geek.
I always wanted the freedom to be Gothic.
I wanted to shun the Christian teachings of my childhood.
As well as some other things my childhood bares/bears.
Forgive me for letting myself go (psychically).
I have answers.
I just don't want everyone to have access to them.
But I guess I have to be willing to let you explore if this is true love.
I just want us back together again.
I'm not doing anything to make you resent me.
In fact, I'm playing your game.
Am I too big of a player to play with you?
Seems like no one believes I'm a 6.
Sometimes it's hard for me to believe.
I mean, just look at the team!
You got the gory George Massa.
The slick J Dilla.
The untouchable Jack Splash.
And... the open-hearted Charles Hamilton?
Not a match.
Just bear with me.
I'll catch up to your wicked ways.
Just gotta beat the game first.
Industry, be careful how you treat us.
In the long run, we are who you have to answer to.
Might I add, I love my grandmother and my uncle.
They know who I am.
And they support it.
It's just time for me to get my hands dirty.
And I was told I'm too pretty for that.
But to be pretty makes you a target.
I'm used to it by now...
~follow the buzzards~