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letra de in my feelings - angela brown

“w” is for waterfall conversations with straus and anthongy

i was young and i would imagine what it meant to have a healthy family. i would fantasize about how a relationship builds with trust. until one day that trust had broken into a thousand pieces. it was the day i fell in love. it was the bond that i became silenced while alone in darkness invisible to light. i vacate the pain of not having you around. the universe can hear a pen dropping, dropping, dropping. vamoose its energy is gone. alone in this empty sh-ll time has no light. i am alone
it was the day i was left alone in the house by myself. i had been reading a redbook magazine. i wanted to study how to deliver a baby. i was alone in the house that was very quiet, not a sound nor television or radio had played. it was an ordinary day. when i lost it, i began to cry. i am the voice behind the words lost in meaning for a child is too innocent and young to understand boys. a child is too young to understand what she was exposed to at an early age. i became an addict whose words lie within meaning to love as i desire to need love. my first experience i felt the sand flows through my loosed fingers, my desire is taken as a token of loss, pain, and grief with the tears i shed
i hunger for empathy to say i am sorry it ever happened. it came unexpectedly without warning. it came down on my hard. i inhale the cries that pierced my skin and gave me wounds that will never heal. like the words that bleed across this blank page with scornful literic damaged me eternally. he tasted my forbidden fruit which is now a rotted dry fruit that no one wants to eat the body he claims he owned
alone in my dreams, i feel stones turning into a gem. i feel the shiny gem stone in the light. i have an att-tude that says i am special. people stare admiring the light flashing in the light. with a certainty of influence on others fear that i am not alone because i have purpose
i am the addict desiring needs to forgive his forced entry into my cubical sp-ce was silenced and now secluded. he invaded my home upon forced entry. i lie alone confused and perturbed as he stabbed a cross in my heart with hateful spears of regret
today i question the universe amongst the galaxy i have cried many times. my cries echo in the wind through the words of many girls who sinned temptation. i am the young girl who asks for help as the calm sea is quieted and the shadows ride upon the tides in the meadow of life. i cannot accept things as they are. i am taking humiliation one day at a time. the sin that i regret will not be forgotten. i am an addict desiring to be loved who is challenged within life questioning empathy. i needed a friend to tell me things will be okay. s-x comes naturally and unwanted. i was too young to be fooled into risking my innocence with a boy i hardly knew and controls me
i am the manager of my dreams where everything relies on circ-mstance. the tiny things that do not matter i can not feel. i feel trapped in a maze. somehow my emotions do not exist. i do not know how to get out. i am invisible to celestial light giving hope that at the end of the tunnel there is life. i could have said no, but i was afraid of going to mental prison. i was the girl who trusted the devil into provoking me into sharing my fruit for wisdom
i began to question who i am. i hold truth as evidence for reasons that i never knew, and i never had control over. what i hoped to bring relationships was broken at the point of no return. while i needed to feel loved i felt empty inside. i now reconcile the difference of knowing i am important and i am in control not him. i began to shut out reality. my eyes had become sickened with hate. i no longer desired to build a relationship that was broken. the stars do not always light up the night. a wooden beam comes between us from motivating ties to reunite in friendship. i am holding on to circ-mstances that i can not control. we had s-x and he never loved me. i was too poor, ugly and dumb for the boy i hardly knew who raped me
the rippling tides come and fade away the scornful words of intrusion. racy thoughts of suicide have become the voices in my head that whisper sl-t, wh0r-, sh-t, nothing and i begin to scream at their words that ponder with possession that has lost all sight of lyrical meaning with disgust
i am an addict desiring to be loved. i search to define my purpose to define what is real. reality is knowing who you are. if i am unable to communicate i won’t escape the darkness. my tears will fill the ocean eternally with weeping sorrow. god only gives us one chance and once it is broken, you will never get it back. you live your life in hope of finding inner peace from the memory of him taking away your virtue, violating your trust with the lack of empathy of him controlling your life and not letting go
the reality of love is nothing but life itself becomes complacent with fear to be held and touched. the more you want to open you live in fear of losing your sanity. i become afraid of trusting another man with my soul because i am afraid of dying. the act of finding happiness relies upon building relationships with the humility of forgiving the one person who hurt you the most and trusting a stranger with your broken heart to see something in your others can not see
my heart beats in measurements of countless time. i will not live in peace until i am able to let go and move on. the hardest part of a broken relationship is to admit it is over. to love is to have the desire to need p-ssion. i find that an empty heart beats in measures of countless time that is lost with the pain in agony and regret
he was an acropolis to a painful ulcer. he was my silent rage in defeat of an absence minus quiet desires to vengeful needs. my desire to be loved does not measure my expectations, but to define the guilt faded and emptied my heart completely. in his memory, he was the parasite that ate my flesh as a wilted rose dies at conception. he was a post modern resentment of intrusion that i mistaken for l-st for love. he was cunningly the kink in the joints that intimidated me to want seclusion and become absent from finding eternal happiness. all has been forgotten except the irony of defeat. i lost contact with my lover and the memories he left are not but painful distilled memories of content and harsh feelings of regret that it ever happened to me

- angela brown

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