Okay So Abigail (one of the skeptics) is also a poet a DOPE one if i might add, so i asked her for a poem and she slammed this one on me. Mayen I was Blown away a Poem that hard cannot be for her ears or mind alone so i decided to share it with the world....
Here you go guys
The life am living : Most days I am like this;
carved,
Tight lipped like a closed wallet.
Two sided would be the wrong term.
To invite sides into my makeup
Would mean
I have dimensions.
Nothing about how I’ve been formed
Reads “surface”
or “tangible”.
In rooms, I am more so presence
than person.
For example,
faith doesn’t have a heartbeat
but it lives.
I lose faith in myself often.
Last Thursday,
my third eye batted,
as if to flirt with the next world.
But it was only confused
at where I’d ended up,
surrounded by a myriad of people
with no clear side to choose from.
Just a closed mouth.
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