gone off love

Author: Muji

i don’t start from the beginning.

beginnings don’t start with me.

i been arriving mid-collapse since birth,

speakin’ in sighs,

dressed like i just left somewhere i wasn’t supposed to survive.

i don’t walk in—i echo.

i don’t heal—i rehearse.

time don’t hit me straight.

it curves.

folds.

shuffles.

some days feel like reruns with new bruises.

some smiles ain’t mine—i just borrow ’em.

some people pray with their hands.

i do it by limpin’ forward.

i dress the part—

clean fade, black heart,

stitched pain in the seams of my carhartt.

smile like the rent unpaid

when I’m I own the house

stressing over shit i already figured out.

feel like all i have

is my words

and my balls.

scars in a smile.

scarface reference.

tony montana in a sense—

a deaf sentence.

that’s life.

heard that.

ain’t that the truth

flexin’ through self-sabotage like a fool.

i dripped so much,

i create my own wave—hey!

but, somewhere i’m leakin’,

every drop a bloodstain.

now i’m drippin’ so much

i creat my own pain—

new carhartt stained.

i-heart pain.

can you help me

i’m bent?

songs playin’—

start bending me

keep bending me

until i’m completely

broken in.

in red bottoms,

leavin’ bloody prints with each step,

in a sense… or innocence…

depends how much i spent

i want the smoke. incense trailin’ behind me, stink

grief burnin’ slow,

scent heavy as a confession.

high-fashion heartbreak—

luxury stitched over loss,

designer regret with my name on it

and a shadow

that won’t stop tryin’ on my shit, skeletons in the closet a tailored swift, booty in my jeans fit perfect, thanks for the gift.

laughing and crying at the same shit

cray? a bit?

crayon—crayons that split

can still color the empty space.

fueling the ride to your struggles.

uber cheap,

voices yelling,

“i’ll give you a lyft.

made a living out of driving me away like i’m a cab.

still traveling with baggage from the past,

and

i’m aware

that i am challenging

with all these red flags.

when the days got long

i used weights to stay strong.

but being vulnerable

where i get my real strength from.

still.

i’m back at the gym

adding plate after plate.

to you it looks strong—

to me it’s all fake.

on the inside, i’m dying

like my heart was at a wake,

but opening my eyes

was more than i could take.

so so i kept them shut,

but now i’m wide awake.

smiling saved the day.

truth is—

i’m the strongest man alive

if survival counts as reps.

but all this flexin’?

just rippin’ my peace in half

while the world calls it healing.

so hold me when i’m here—

like really here.

not the highlight reel.

not the motivational post.

the 3am me

who talks to the ceiling

and answers back like it’s holy.

correct me when i’m wrong—

but be gentle.

i flinch in silence

and bleed behind punchlines.

wrap me up

like the last verse of a spoken word where i’m going wax poetic on what i’m pretending not to know about myself, let’s move onto something else.i don’t wanna talk about my shortcomings and things i can’t seem to figure out. delaying the inevitable i never say it to you face-to-face, but if you follow the lyrics, i will tell you every single thing, listen! and you’ll discover me. but when i hear it, it goes in one ear and out the other, pulling in both directions a tug of war tightrope walking, towing the line. brainstorming a category out of mine storm. trying to find middle ground balance. when the mixture of my thoughts and honesty agree on the default positivity loud voices start to use their inside volume. chemistry forms, signed.

and if i give it all up—

the armor, the edge, the script—

if i bleed it out

just to keep you whole…

will you still call it love

when i ain’t performin’?

or a whisper in your chest

that makes you smile

before you remember

why you cryin’.

so love me when i’m gone.

not vanished,

but when i’m sittin’ in the light

and still feel like shadows.

love

love me then.

love me mid-loop

when they ask how i got here,

tell ‘em i walked threw a dead-end road for so long

it looped back to a beginning.

the pearly gates were open—

i liked the rhythm of my new gait,

so i just kept going

. straight facts, crooked lies. same thing?

a villainous menace or a menacing villain? either way, a bad dude.

no sound.

just wind.