Or have myself believe,
Your restrictions are for me to bleed…
I don’t wake up with those perceptions.
Or reject my own reflection!
I will not distance myself,
To have my own identity
Be reason for my own indignation
With those inflictions…
That would thrill you if I conceived,
As an easy sedation.
My mama always said,
‘Boy, you’ve got a hard head! ‘
I know that is what you would wish…
But ‘that’ on my plate,
Is not my favorite dish!
What you have cooked up for me to eat…
I’ve dismissed,
Since I am allergic to it!
And standing on my own two feet…
Has been a struggle.
But it is still my treat!
In fact…
I can not swallow your existence!
My ancestors might have dealt with your limits,
But I am not that kind to have you mess with my mind!
I am not on a journey to find those sensations.
You are wasting your time…
I do not receive those invitations!
I am not blind.
Nor do I hunger for that to trap,
For your satisfaction.
Or to confine!
Just to hear you say before branding…
‘That property there is mine! ‘
Those ‘ideals’ I don’t regard appealing.
And as an appetizer…
I have left them far behind!

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