Wait How Did I Become a Writer Again

i haven’t asked myself this question in a while

so, here it is

for ten million dollars, can i answer…

how did i become a writer again?

well, there are many directions which this can go in

i feel like i was never heard as a child

well, i wasn’t

i was only to be seen and nothing beyond that

if i brought up a valid point, i got struck across the face

and cussed out like a Dutch dog

seen as disrespectful and ungrateful,

my momma still tells me that whenever i challenge her belligerence

ahem, narcissism

i know the truth, so i can see right through you

feeling that threatened

i feel bad for you

once i found that i could say whatever i wanted to in my journal,

nothing or no one was able to touch me

i don’t care if you had the thickest belt known to man,

i knew that i was protected under the grace of literature

look at what that made me into, the greatest writer from this city

not up for debate, end of discussion

another reason was this, i got tired of playing rat games

living from check to check, overworked and underpaid

can’t nobody live like that, who wants to remain bogged down in poverty

it wasn’t until i became a teenager that i realized i could turn this shit into profit

couple years later, shit started snowballin’

didn’t listen to those naysayers, they ain’t have shit to say anyway

what was another reason?

a form of healing, i been damaged for ages

left to suffer, everyone around me were suffering in turn

the only difference between me and them was a choice

i chose to get over the bullshit

i chose to let my voice be heard

can’t nothing silence me anymore

you gone get silenced first, don’t fuck with savage writer

i got a tongue like lava, hoe

can’t nothing silence me anymore

society so fucking sensitive these days, i ain’t apologizing for shit bruh

i say what the hell i want to, piss off if you don’t agree with me

ya’ll need to hear the truth