I can’t see my face through the noise, the sound is deafening, a lifetime of audio obstacles has rendered my sight useless.
My manifestations are contorted into otherworldly beings that I don’t know, the stimulus has taken hold and this vice will not be broken by mere thought.
I want to know me one day and experience the world as a human, heart unbroken and dried up tears.
This life is beautiful to those who have not soured by this life that is ugly. I want to go outside.
Where my wings unfurl and lungs expand, I should take flight.
Let these eyes be fixed, all fuss quiet, no more confinement in cells with scratchy glass.
I want to move out and carry on, the day be long and the evening new.
Oatmeal, Milk 'N Honey
Reblogged this on innerstanding isness.
take flight and go where… we can’t go home again… and yet, we can’t stay here no more
that’s lie we’ve been told. You should take flight and be the person you wanna be, the person you know you are. And you can go home again, I go every time I close my eyes.
Interesting, what was your motovation behind this piece? To me out seems as of you want to leave something behind, move forward with you life? Is that your inspiration?
I thinks me moving and breaking free is a common thread in most of my pieces. I just feel like I just be elsewhere doing something else. It’s hard to explain, but this does not feel like where I supposed to be. I was placed here.
That feeling you speak of is the disconnect of living in this land that is not our own. I feel it too. That strange outside-looking-in feeling you get. You know that you don’t belong here…
I think most of us feel it too.
You want to know something? So do whites…they are torn up inside from this feeling with no name.
I call it White Guilt.
Sista, I can tell you all manner of things about how I don’t belong here. And here is this planet for me. I have never really fit into this human suit well, always a bit uncomfortable. As for the white folk, well, they got plenty of resources to take it up with.
Yes, you are right though we don’t belong here, but it’s our.
I struggle with as there is so much I yearn for and so little that gets done. I have these dreams of home and when i awaken to find I’m still here all I want is to fall back into that sleep being here in this place makes every blessing a curse.