my favorite song

Some say that my taste in music is the color of rust 

Say it isn’t the most appealing in appearance. 

 I get defensive, say it is priceless. 

It adorns my ears in unmined diamonds  

It is gritty and real and raw.  

My taste in music sounds like saba, reminds me that 

Kids that I hoop with all in county; 

Counting black bodies, hunt em down look like bounty. 

To complement these lyrics 

I surround myself with friends of steel, 

Make me feel angry when I need to. 

They stuff the Lizzo in my mouth and tell me that truth hurts 

But I must know what it is. 

I have yet to learn how to speak truth, so I write it 

tapping my feet to the melody of every line. 

Yeah, I got the kick                                              

Uh yeah, I got the kick. 

My brain forms complex compositions  

turns thoughts into black ink on command 

My written cognition is an open hand 

And so is my tongue, 

Won't stop speaking even if I ask it to 

It is the kanye of my mind  

Sometimes blind to the presence of others and their feelings 

Sometimes I make myself an outkast  

Tell myself I'm alright, alright, alright, alright  

Even when I hurt on the inside. 

I’ve pushed away friends and family for the sake of my pride 

I’ve set fire to my circle so many times 

Gotten burned in the process; 

Everything litty I love when it's hot. 

I don’t speak about the things that really matter to me. 

My silence shields my vulnerability.  

I am Stevie Wonder 

All I do is think about you, but act like I don’t. 

I’ve learned to move like I have a heart of stone  

I am so cold 

Call me ice, ice baby. 

I wish there was a script on how to be sentimental, 

I’m still looking for a playwright. 

If was I given that role in a musical  

I'd make sure my part was played right 

Down to the cadence. 

I’d learn to look my loved ones in the eyes 

And tell them I love them. 

Learn to be emotional and open sometimes 

Learn that strong black girls can cry too. 

Especially since I’ve listened to enough Frank Ocean  

To drown in his lyrics in my sleep, 

He sings of the peace he finds in his shame 

His shame is pieced together by unrequited love and failed relationships. 

This is why music speaks to me, makes me feel free. 

Now, my taste in music will always be rusty 

Will always be made up of brown artists that speak about brown problems 

And they will always be on repeat  

My release.