I could be 

empty in Tahiti. 

I could be 

empty and debt free,

but you God block 

and stop the clock 

of fiscal facades. 

All for the he

you God say is for me.

me is the so called her

in that now ugly 

he + He + her

God your Stir is ugly,

if he’s the man I stand with.

he didn’t take love seriously.

he spat on the sanctification,

and the edification of marriage,

because he’s a selfish fiscal savage.

I pray it was worth it.

I pray his pain in vain 

and the worth 

he buried by his hurt

with his chest and no shirt

to work through his dirt.

Congrats esquire

that’s now financially in a hire

to be the richest black billionaire.

His worldly goals made him cold.

I don’t care what he does anymore.

I want to see without that he.

I want to discern without that he.

I don’t want his pockets.

I never did. 

What I wanted 

he wasn’t interested in.

Cool, that’s on you boo. 

he did me a solid,

in his determination

to lie through his teeth

about a she he doesn’t respect

and always neglects.

a she that he 

had sex secretively

because he didn’t 

respect her body.

rushing in a marriage 

didn’t change she 

wasn’t worth waiting on.

Love waits. (1 Corinthians 13)

Sex before marriage 

is selfish and lust.

Sex before marriage 

is not love.

I can make 

my pockets deep too.

If God stopped blocking me. 

I yearn to learn

how to flee biblically

you God don’t agree. 

Be still and 

know….(Ps 46:10)

know what?

That you’re God?

That you’re the Creator 

who’s far greater?

Okay I know you’re God.

The same God 

that allowed facades 

and humans playing god.

The same God

that doesn’t stop 

clocks of wrong bows

in mirage self-inflicting 

incision decisions of

mutant cloned

sexual drone marriages.

Like that he 

that’s supposedly for me.

But I can’t believe 

or receive this decree.

I cannot see 

because I’m angry.

that he 

makes me see red.

Be slow to anger.

(James 1:19)

being slow to anger 

isn’t protecting my lungs.

he doesn’t have 

my problems.

he cannot walk 

a day in my shoes.

yet this pain 

has a gain and purpose?

an alcoholic father 

a junkie brother, and 

a junkie supplying mother 

is supposed to make 

me stop my anger?

They’re dead to me.

I already wrote 

their obituaries.

They might as well be

they’re all walking blindly

in toxicity fleeing 

with the enemy as junkies.

like that he

you supposedly say is for me.

The same God

that allows this clan

I rest my head to sleep,

be destructive junkies?

An alcoholic husband and

head of the household. 

A drug and cigarette junkie 

son in chokeholds.

And the neck of her husband. 

a woman that 

leads them to death. 

My lungs get polluted 

for broken delusions.

But you’re God 

that doesn’t stop 

these facades.

I don’t ask for much.

An apartment away

from this toxicity decay.

A space where I can create. 

A job that pays my bills

until I lift off. 

But you’re blocking me

for that he 

that I’m tired 

of you saying is for me.

I don’t care anymore.

he can stay where he is.

he has his article 

and his facades that make him god. 

he won with fun and no sun

disrespecting sage eyes body

in sin city with no rings just stings.

rushing to get wedding rings doesn’t 

change that disrespectful trip.

he’s supposed to take me to Italy?

then I don’t want to go anymore.

you can keep next year’s date too.

I don’t care anymore.

I just want my own space 

away from this junkie disgrace.

The real one is Jojo*

everyone else are drones

or battle being clones

because they’re tired 

of being alone.

I choose to lose in alone

because I’ll never flee

blindly with the enemy ever again.

That’s a sin that will

never lead to God’s Gills

or ever teach me to be still.

I don’t know how you Daddy

expect me to be happy

about the he you say is for me

after all the ugly 

he was determined to be.

How are you Daddy going to change

my arranged deranged brain

that he thought was strange 

to be happy about 

him coming to me?

When I see is he’s a junkie for money.

to be honest, how’s 

he different from my father?

he’s no different then

the addicts in my family.

I don’t want to hope in him.

I don’t want to trust in him.

I don’t want to believe in him.

Seeing is believing according to me.

he made it clear where he stands.

we are running two different races. 

we are running two different directions.

we serve two different masters. 

Money and God cannot 

be served at the same time.

I don’t want to be 

a junkie for money.

I just want to stop 

being around unhealthy.

So when will you 

set me free Daddy?

What more do I have to endure?

I need it to be time to go.

I’m tired of this toxic episode.

It’s time for this storyline 

to hit a new prime time.

Crysie’s Junkies needs 

to be cancelled.

So please God dismantle 

this chaotic scandal.

Jesus already paid for

the mix drinks lemonade, 

on the Cross of Calvary 

as my ransom.

So when can I actually

be physically free

from all this ungodly ugly?

I still choose truth.

I still choose biblical proof.

I still choose to lose 

the world boldly not coldly.

I still choose you Daddy.

Love your daughter.

*names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy 


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