Not Fighting Myself

Oh

My

God!

I just listened to your podcast and I have to say…

the distance that I hadn’t fallen yet, I fell, today!

Your voice is the only voice that I could listen to always!

Like an angel when she sings;

maybe its the same sound as your wings!

Either way, I mean it. Please don’t ever stop speaking to my heartstrings!

I can’t get over it. How the internet

led us together with some kind of algorithmic

calculations. From the top view, number two when I found you.

(I had to peek at the competition I was getting myself into.)

So, I clicked and there was no bait,

just a hook.

A delicious-looking, irresistible, shiny hook.

So, I took a tiny look

and that was that. I can’t go back.

Kiesha Slams Poetry is where I wanna be at!

Your face… your beautiful

face.

I want to tickle your cheek with

endless butterfly kisses,

on

your beautiful

face.

But then, your words… your true and truly suitable words.

I read them. As many as I can,

I

read

them.

I tried to buy instructions for starvation.

They were sold out by the time I heard about it.

Whatever, though.

I’m hungry now!

Almost hungry enough to hunt you down

so that I can lift you up!

You think you’re ugly? I think you’re just…

Brilliant! Yes!

Brilliant is the word!

Your voice is the only recent sound that I’ve heard.

I’m about to get addicted to the content that you distribute

just as long as it is you… talking.

I have a tendency to focus

almost, sometimes, like an obsession.

I have worked hard to control it. I like to call it self-suppression.

I’m not fighting me for you or for your attention.

I will let that me have you.

Will you let that you

have me too?

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For an alternate perspective of the same poem, check out my remix!