Little black fingers

Something that is really refreshing about truth is that each and every time we meet, it's as if we had never met before.

Tonight was monumental for me. My brother, Desean, was sitting in my lap and it took everything I had to cowboy up and not cry. He is about two, talking, but not with words yet. He is one of the most joyful human beings I know and I'm completely in love with him. We played for about forty minutes, but what moved me took about five seconds. He was putting his tiny fingers in my ring and playing with my bracelets when he opened his hand completely and grabbed onto my pointer finger. Time stood still as I studied all of the tiny joints and bones that gripped mine. His black hand squeezed my white finger like mine had done to many when I was his age. I felt the biological sameness and saw it more clearer than ever. Our hearts were completely connected and I lost it. My heart got hot and I felt water rush into position in my tear ducts. The intimacy was worth dying for.

There's no way I could put this experience into words. I'm trying, but as I reread this I see that it's just words. I know you know that we are equal. That's not what this is about. Equality has absolutely nothing to do with this. It used to, but now it can't. This isn't a "Well God loves them too." kind of issue. In the kingdom we are past that. We are not separate and equal, we are one and loved.

I will be completely honest and tell you that I don't believe in my self enough. My confidence as a songwriter is about as low as it could be. I throw away my poetry.(That rhymed) But I need to post this poem. I'm not seeking anything from you- finally, I'm free from that! This poem is from my heart. No matter how basic, how bad, how cheesy, how whatever it is, this is what it is and I'm satisfied. This paragraph is more for me than you, unless you can relate. If you can, just be who you freaking are. If your anything but that and accepted, wake up, it's not even you they are accepting. I'd rather be me and persecuted than fake and fit in. That's enough. The message of this poem is the one we need to hear.


Little Black Fingers

Little black fingers wrap around mine
gripping tight, like a desperate vine
Little wet eyes innocent shine
Look strait past mine.

Through my mind, into my heart
past the places that have fallen apart
past all of the muck, all the grime
all this racist bullshit built up over time.

Whoa to my ignorant past
when self preservation was my only task
my life set to wither and burn like a field of grass
now my brother is first, I'm last.

This boy has found with his youth
this thing in my heart, this undeniable truth
deep inside he had to dive
to find this light I can no longer hide.

Our fingers one, like our soul and mind
the supernatural bond defying all space and time
all my life I'll leave behind
to hold this boy, just one more time.

A man is a man, a boy a boy.
A breath is a breath, life yields joy.
A mind is a mind, a heart a heart.
We can no longer be split apart!
These walls are GONE! Can't you see?!
His heart is with mine, his heart is part of me.
This boy is my brother, quite literally.

We're the resurrected body, this I believe.