good God

Everytime I write I’m good it corrects to I’m god and I’m starting to believe it.

My fingers typing so fast it’s hard to read it. Don’t wanna see it.

Black mirror filled with death and renegades. Call it dancing with the devil, but get the shovel.

Cause there’s only room for two, room for a few, room for those who don’t see me and you.

Tired of scrolling down my timeline and feeling like I’m blind and that’s what separates me from you.

I don’t have a choice. I don’t get to lay back and not use my voice.

Covid this. Covid that. I’m scared, but I’m here. Cuz Covid is only the second pandemic I’ve had to bear.

Self love is my amour and that scares you.

They said their hate was left in my rear view.

All lies, but at least they tried.

Naive to think that they could stop us.

Naive to think they could take our culture and rob us.

My keyboard is right to assume I’m the almighty.

Because my presence will bring them to their knees.

My dreams have only just started to breathe.