Sweet Sounds

I grew up with semantic gunshots
That’d make you duck and run behind closet doors.
The sounds of broken glass exploding from my mother's tongue
Across kitchen floors


Se o obrin?


            I grew up with the sonorous sermons
That cite Leviticus. Condemnation spewed
Into the aisles of church pews.
The bible says thou shalt not lie-
The nigga says you must not cry         
Oga says you must not defy
You must not spread and stretch the man’s      

 
Pause

boundaries set
That were meant to trip you up
And beat that ass from the back


No homo


Growing up we didn't need hurdles
On the track. We built our own barriers. 
We sweat ebony bullets trying to leap straight
Over our desires for curved bananas. 


Pause


We sucked on lollipops in secluded silence 


Pause


And boisterously chewed on manna.


I--broken black boy--crossed out crop tops
In fear of the non stop eavesdrop
Of the man above,
Of Oga,
And The same flip flop nigga
That wanted me to lick his nuts 

 

But not like that. 

 

The same nigga that wanted me on my knees
so he could feel tall

 

Pause

 

I was always salty
To be sweet

 

Pause

 

To the one that said my speech
was flowery
And called me sweet

 


Thank you ;)