Turquoise is the color of my Heys carry-on luggage

Tuurqoise-blue is the color of my Heys carry-on luggage
You are just about to realize this
Pink is the color of the lipstick I rock on my liberation days

I wear green everyday but days like today
And yesterday, if I had known the kind of punch that'd be thrown, I would've rocked my black jeans and yellow T since I like to sting like a bee

You wouldnt be any close by to help me pick my copper colored nickels off the floor, by any chance, would you?
True-say even if you were, you'd be too tall to bow down

See my toes? Red nail polish like the fire I felt feel felt and likely will continue feeling
The beautiful thing about feelings is that they are subjective, and anyone can make one up out of anything
You need no $ to have a feeling
Chances are, you're likely to feel when you dont have much $

Lets go back to the color of my locks all shades of brown and counting
You are likely to notice the one strand carefully crocheted at the back of my head as I slap on some pink lipstick, leave you my black n yellow T, and storm out the door with my turquoise-blue. Carry-on.

You believe it too

I shut off my TV, logged off those pages, crabbed a bowl, and got some milk in my cereal.
Determined to take no part in the delusion that you are what I should aspire to be as, I shut you off.
You do not have my consent to make me feel like I am a follower of yours.
I simply refuse.
This is no sheep and herder sort of relationship that we keep long distance-ly in our ever-so-one-way lop-sidedly contrived love.

It isnt.

You are no ALLAH, not my Ghandi, you ArE not Jesu Kristi or that six-limbed God the hindus serve. You do not make water, you breathe air but cannot manufacture it. You cannot fly un-aided, you are NO diety.

Yet, people, watch, listen, gaze, and breathe you in. In awe. Starry-aspiration-eyed as if to say that without you, they cannot dream.
You believe it too.
You are wrong.

I packed up my slippers and wont look back as I stomp out the yard. You will not make me feel less than I was when chance, linked us.

I am humbled by the experiences... watching you live so loud. Laughing out loud, and though its aloud, I must say your cry for recognition is sad.

Humility never was your greatest attribute.

Yet, people, watch, listen, and gaze at you. In awe. Starry-aspiration-eyed as if to say that without you, I cannot have joy.
You believe it too.
You are wrong.