Flexing In My Complexion!

We all spoke English but none of us shared a mutual language, and thats where the misunderstanding was left hanging. So now when they see me, they see me as, chocolate & misdirected, angry & unprotected, abandoned & neglected. But really they missed the message, I’m just flexing in my complexion! I’m chocolate & finessing, unbothered & respected, discovered & misanthropic. I’ll always be the topic. All the strength in me they be testing, waiting for that inner aggression, so they can politely tell me to exit. Thinking I’ll be stressing in my complexion, but even in the face of adversity, I’m calm and I’m collective, filled with serenity & forgiveness. I’m heavy on the chillin even when they paint me as the villain, when facts is I’m the healer. But fuck it, I’ll be the supplier and the dealer. Call me the hood healer, or call me when shit get realer, no matter the cards at play just call me and I’m the dealer. Multitasking in my complexion, I really should be taxing for my complexion & make you pay to get the message.

Forgiveness ain’t it a blessing, but only if you catch the value of the lesson. Giving it gets pretty restless; forgiveness they say is the bestest, so I guess I’m lacking in my complexion, because forgiveness what a test it is! They always looking for a testament no matter what the rest is.

I’m burnt-out on forgiving folks who don’t deserve it. I give em all my grace while they acting so unworthy. Like I’m supposed to be a welcome mat and let em walk all over that like I deserve it. I ain’t a dummy in my complexion, yea sometimes I’m numb to my complexion. really I’m just a elephant in my complexion, just another element of my complexion. See because the axe forgets but the tree remembers, although they say history doesn’t repeat itself, it sure has a rhythm. Yea this new ME is very present, but the old her is still relevant! lurking through the grass hunting enemy’s of the past, just a predator in my complexion. They say All hunters are the heroes until the lioness tells her side of the story, such a poet in my complexion, I’m a writer and the message which is rare in my complexion. Pain is next in my collection, but it’s not a part of my complexion. See me I grew from all my pain, water by the rain of my tears as I conquered my fears. Pain is just a stain on my complexion, but not bigger than the growth of my complexion. I’m just really out here flexing, taking parts of me & mixing it with my complexion, the definition of imperfection. heads roll when i step in my complexion, young black queen just flexing in my complexion.