Crucifying The Flesh

I'm about to bless yawll with some shit
Some serious serious shit
I'm talking God ain't seen this one coming

I'm what you say I am
I prefer a p*ssy licking
Cl*t touching
Freak o path
From "tha country"
Who most definitely keeps it in the family
So much that my cousin has spread the lesbianism
To her own my auntie
Yo cousin's brother sista's chile
Yeah...that's got a "funny one" in the family now
I prefer THA BYTCH
I pop off at the mouth
And buck at the opportunity to knock you dead in your eye
And make sure that you feel the concrete on yo ass
As I swing from the inside
Flexing with my fist
And ducking with a natural reflex
I prefer ecclectic
I know what I like
When I like it
Why I like it
Where I like it
Who I like it from
And hell I even know what IT is
I prefer cool
My period in which I react to nothing
Express absolute shit
Smile to the dead
Frown to the living
And make love with the invisible
Because my purity was taken when I was 5
Along with my mother who remains to exist like an unknown author
Where my source of unhealthy "pleasures" manifest themselves
And sin calls to me in my sleep to embrace it
With open arms...or shall I say....fingers?...
We shall call this dominant
Because I sometimes enjoy exploring
Your internal pain for pleasure
And addressing the needs of the tearing of your skin
By my nails
Wrapping you up in my whip
And making you LICK my leather
Been there...done that...
Got lost in it and never found myself
20 years in the making and you still bringing that up
When he ejaculted his testosterone in me
While I was unconscious to the world
Regrets for him I have not
Blessed I was...hell...
He didn't leave his mark in me
He shot blanks and I in return
Shot bullets
No you may not ask
And I refuse to answer
You already seen me in every city
Bitches like us are worldwide
The Black lesbian
Who was molested as a child by a man
Who made her grow up to hate men
And not understand the human race
Or accept that she really is alive
Instead selling her body for cheap
And her heart for too much
While reaching for more than she knows she can handle
All the while "falling in love" with "the ones"
Who come every month...maybe twice a month
To share her bed
And sell her soul
To the devil who chooses not to keep it
But once again deliver it in a white envelope
By your neighborhood mailman
Addressed to "The Bitch Who Lost What She Never Had"
A mind
A heart
A soul
A love
The cycle has restarted itself!
...And the words will re-appear and the prophecy as predicted will be fulfilled....
I will now hang my head and die...
And my tomb will not be re-opened....
For I have crucified the flesh...

Copyright © 2005. Used with author's permission.

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