Am I rough around the edges?
Am I damaged?
Am I unable to be comprehended,
because I like to be ravaged?
Is it the Cherokee in my blood,or my flow
what makes me a savage?
Do you know that the opposite of freedom
Am I thirsty because I want to drink a full fountain?
Am I too loud,
If my commands have been known to move a mountain?
Am I a gypsy because I love the flames of fire?
Its flicks and wisps seems to dance with my desire?
Is it wrong that my moans drown out the thunder?
Are they jealous that my eyes are full of wonder?
Who am I?
Maybe the Baptists preacher’s daughter?
A misunderstood doctor who heals the African diaspora?
I was and always will be my sister’s keeper.
Even though the life I living
won’t let me speak to her.
I’m tired of running friend,
could we pause the century and own it?
And pay in rubies to kiss
& stop time in this moment.