I'll speak in my mother tongue
And embrace
the slang of my Brooklyn roots

I won't try to change
My colloquial way of speech
I don't have anything to prove
With the words I choose to use

Because I'll speak my message plain as day,
I'll spit my rhymes
Like straightforward
Old school rappers
I don't need to sugarcoat my words
I don't need to overcomplicate things
With my messages

I'll take pride in my mother tongue
I won't pretend to be something I'm not
I'm just a girl from Brooklyn
Who has a lot to express.

they leave
and act like it never happened
they come back
and act like they never left




ghosts

i appreciate the ache
that comes from
a long day of walking in the sun

like a keepsake
is the joy tucked in my heart
after a day of choosing to smile
and laughing on purpose

some days i feel so connected
so entwined
with everyone and everything
i feel the joy swell through me
and produce love and peace in me

my mind and heart becomes as tranquil as a babe coddled in maternal arms
i rest in this eternal love

i love the ache
of a body well lived
and well loved.

i'm realizing that i didn't fight hard enough for you. i got so caught up in fighting you, that i forgot to fight for you. looking back, the stuff we argued on was not worth the energy or the love lost. i think we were both a little...warm blooded. everything we did, we did with passion. which, of course, translated into the fights of fire and flames. in any case, what are you wearing today? it's strange to think about you wearing outfits that i haven't touched, seen, worn. for old times sake, why don't you wear the navy blue shirt that i dropped garlic-butter on. man, i nearly **** myself because i thought i'd stained your favorite shirt. but you laughed. and i nervously laughed too. i'm glad the stain came out in the end. i rocked that shirt better than you did anyway, hehe.