Last Poem

Let me put my pen down.
Now certainly as my mind ponders on this subject of my uncertainty
I search this space for what best for what best works for me.
So, let me put my pen down.
Let me place it deep inside the contours of my mind
adjacent the space where I keep the hatred
for everything I love that left me.
For everyone who forgot when they swore not to forget me
Let me
stop speaking.
For a moment to breathe in peace
as to not expose the broken fibers of my being.
See when I accepted the choice to use my voice
I was expected to forget that I speak for a reason.
Expected to commit treason
by being someone other than the Kwene that I’m being
and you say self proclaimed
but I say I was born broken and bound
so I earned the title Kwene in my freedom.
Let me stop speaking
because it's a mystery of how I made it here with my history
and you can say that it’s all due to my gift of speech
but let’s be honest.
When I followed the path that I thought seemed more promising
I found myself falling into a pit that seemed bottomless.
Wondering if my heart would stop from the sheer shock of it
steadily trying to earn my stripes
and leave this life of strife that I started in.
Let me
stop pretending that I can escape through these words on this paper.
Like I could use these words as an excuse for my erratic behavior
placing blame to avoid the pain that I’m deeply afraid of
because if twisting these rhyming words could somehow make me greater
then I’m willing to risk it all
just for the possible taste of stability.
And call it being naive but I really believe that this poetry is all that I need
so let me pick my pen back up.
Let me reach to my talent when everything around me is cloudy.
Proud,
stupidly knowing that if I did this that you could doubt me
but who am I now?
in this very moment
pulling everything from this crowd
who am I now?
I have nothing when having something is all it’s about so…
Let Me Put My Pen Down.