...from the bottom of my radical heart

How I be that girl?

with the silky, smooth lingo

with the constant, cool demeanor, yo

how I be that girl?

how I not do that thing I do?

where I pick at my personal who

dismantling my truedismantling my true

replacing my me for your you

how I be that girl?

how I not do that thing that I do?

witches with the black skincast your spells without fearsing your siren-ic tuneshypnotize the world;

shock the nation with that soundconjurers with the African roots

build your words upon robust foundationbuild your words upon robust foundationdon’t let them wash your skindon’t let them cleanse your brain

look in the mirror and confess your abilitiesyour strength is no longer a secret

and i just want to be a celestial beingcrying tears of flowers and humming tunes of comforti want to float in the softnesspinkness and gradients of pastelsi just want to ascend to the moments that make me greaterchanging formchanging formshedding these hard shells of black and gray matter

i want to be a creatorof conceptsof weirdnessand complexityof blunt edges rough surfacesoof uneven and

in betweeneeing ideologies as treatment for my sickness

...from the bottom of my radical heart