Who I Be

Who do you be? 

Knife or Machete? 

Meant to cut down the pedestal of God’s purpose? 

Or

Are you the judge? 

The scale of 1 to 10

upheld by unrighteous men. 

Placing scales on the eyes of visionaries. 

Are you the shame that laced my mother’s milk? 

Lies fed to me about me. 

Weeds wrapped around the roots of potential. 

Are you the foresight it takes to destroy greatness in the womb? 

The blanket used to smother babe and bottle. 

Are you the night? 

The sensation that welcomes demons and dreamers all the same. 

The churning of stomach 

with horrors impossible to digest? 

Or 

The biting of lips preventing the lungs from singing. 

Maybe, you are 

misplaced identity. Leading the soul into the walls of limitation. 

Maybe,

you are the law of the land. 

Law created by those who never truly owned the land. 

Well,

I tell you who I be. 

I be the light that nourishes the true vine.

Pruned and perfected 

to please the True and the Living. 

I be the revolt. 

The battle cry heard by slave and slaver. 

I be chaos.  

The cyclone uprooting the status quo. 

Chucking that shit from Kansas to Oz. 

I be the shedding of standards like dead skin. 

I am the conviction that causes oppression the quake with guilt.

The clarity of heart. 

Of mind. 

Of spirit. 

I am the joy hand selected for one’s self.

Created and carved and crafted and to my own liking.   

Bruises from shoving hate away to make room for love. 

True love. 

That is patient and kind. 

That does not dishonor others. But always protects. 

I am the peace of mind found in being one’s whole self. 

Embroided in the marrow of my bones. 

It took your chains to show me that I could break them. 

And for being who you be

I now know fully 

Who I be.