About Me

Blac Garner
I'm seven different people. Six of them are dope ass rappers.

Gideon Wildflower
Most would call me a writer.. but most don't know what the fuck they're talking about.

We are both @APurpleUnicorn .

Friday, February 25, 2011

I Just Wanted To See Her Happy

I Just Wanted To See Her Happy
lumumba biko marshall garner

She makes me forget who I am
Turning me upside down, she shakes
my foundation, loosened by her love{..then..fear},
isn't ready to battle the coupled forces of gravity and her arms
And now I'm watching my reflection shatter into a million pieces in the dark
My eye stares back from several slivers on the floor.
Right side up again
Okay. It's going to be alright. I'm. Okay. We're. Okay.
And now her finger
a single finger with chipped gold nail polish
she shoves this finger, cut from the feminine hand of God,
down her throat, deep throating my desire to be close to her
and she vomits
the smell.
everything that I had left behind into my now empty shell
i become a host of her insecurities
and she gloats as she watches how it affects me
how i cower beneath the might of something i once held the power to fight
sometimes, tragedy knocks on her door
she feels the whole house.. no.. her whole life tremble
and so she comes downstairs
where I, blinded by darkness, am searching within for the pride i didn't know I lost
And she sees me
And she spits venom in my eye
Now. I'm blinded by love{..then..fear}
she gets out of the car
headed to a machine that holds what she holds dearest
I detest this.
You only lack what you feel you need. You only lack what you worship.
With me gone, she home
i stare at the inadequacy in my bare hands
hands that once held nothing, quite gracefully
he drives up
his steed, an ocean blue symbol of status
in it I see the reflection of all that I used to hate
and all that I now covet
my reminder of me still remains
a far away echo
to quiet to turn me upside down
and right side up again
frank ocean tells me, "it's murder she wrote"
i respond, "I hope not."
Hopes. dashed.
she walks up to his car with a smile
I remember that smile.
10 minute conversation stretches on for eons as I wonder at the definitions
of comfort and jealousy
numbers may or may not have been exchanged
and I
well, I wait in her passenger seat
as her passenger, her bitch
frank ocean cries out for the love crime
i tell him "hush, it's suicide, I did it to myself"
she's back in the car
pocket a little fatter with something I used to not see back when I was me.
she's quiet.
says nothing of the passing transaction
leaving me to wrestle with my insecurity in silence
leaving me to wrestle with my insecurity in silence
leaving me to wrestle with her insecurities in my shit
leaving me to wrestle with her insecurities in silence
shut the fuck up frank.
i know.
you're right.
i'll never ask her for any other favor, ever again.
Especially not,
for her to please..
be happy.