Identity Crisis

Before the beat is done,

there is a final saying for you all

I’m at a point where my reality

has shifted unpredictably since

the life I’m desiring is located

amongst the outskirts

of unfamiliarity

It’s like I’m living a dual life

I’m not the same person

in class and at work that

I am on stage and in the streets

Those lives will soon

intertwine and they’ll be

no more methods of hiding

Comfy and cooking

in the City of Newark

Running the blocks

I’ve been familiar

with since I was pushed

from out of da’ womb

Not easy to mask your significance

around those that are

unable to look

beyond tainted lining

but once you become used to it

it’s more feasible to navigate

Feasible enough

until I was throwed with

being a fish in a crowded pond so

a brother swam up out of there

I hit the oceans where I belonged

You won’t believe how

overwhelming this has gotten

Hit a standstill

Now I’m in debt

Asking my mom to help

keep my utilities managed

Distant from the nest, it’s either

sink or swim in this dense ass jungle

Only woman I trusted aside

from my mother

done screwed me over

I couldn’t believe that I still had

a thing for a yellow-skinned devil

who knew I’d catch on to

their bullshit eventually, now I’m

forced to keep my

significance at a distance

I don’t speak toxic,

get out of my face cunt

I pushed all my friends to the edge,

now they’re stiller than dirt

Envy and jealousy linger in my

space like a mushroom cloud,

sulfur gives me asbestos

I’m ashamed to even go

back to the Weequahic

section again

And here I was thinking

dat’ Kean would be a breeze

Welp

Wasn’t I wrong?

Probably, I must agree

This was providing me the

proper challenge I needed

Though I knew how difficult this

choice would be, a kid had

to move so he could grow

Otherwise doors to my future

would have remained locked

Who would have

figured how drained I’d be?

Each level ascended

requires a new Khali

Flipping chairs and

kicking walls, nah

Das’ da’ old me

All the nights I sat up

contemplating how I’d leave

That was just my ire speaking

I’m the elephant in the room

everywhere I go like on that night

of February 6, 2020 where I wasn’t

allowed to paint with the sisters of

Nu Theta Chi because I

wasn’t part of the sorority

Never mind being the only

young black male sitting in

the corner of MSC 226, that’s

not the argument I’m presenting

Please don’t see it that way

I’m the elephant in the

room everywhere I go, nah

It doesn’t feel too empowering

when you’re the only one with

a purpose which doesn’t

involve living for the weekends

Am I morphing into the role

model that I set out to become?

I believe it to be the truth,

I want a child with

nothing to look up to me

So is this why I’m

going about it alone?

It’s not too disempowering since

I was the one who’s

chosen savage writer

I happen to be up at all times

of the night ready to break down

in tears because there is no one

for me to confide in and

talk about my issues with

There is a lot of pressure on me,

several chips on my

shoulders to reach the top

Forget all that

I drag a slab of bedrock

around for crying out loud

The heck do I do?

Internalize it or publish?

Despite how many times

I’ve talked about this rage

That still hasn’t dissipated

If anything, it has only increased

but I’m no longer the angry black

teenager I used to be back in 2016,

calmed down significantly with

chances to surpass my psychological

limits and still come out on top

gives you a confidence like no other,

better than your first

blunt or piece of cuddy

I’m still proud of all

my achievements

Done a hell of a lot

at such a young age

Man, I haven’t even hit my stride

I know my fallen relatives must

be proud of who I’ve now become

One day I’ll become larger than

writing thus putting an

end to my identity crisis