*Inspired by J.Cole’s “False Prophets”*

Sometimes I read your articles, your blog posts, your Facebook statuses, Instagram posts trying to discover the underlying aggression between the cresses of the words, sentence, and images. Sometimes I open it on my Mac or iphone and stare into the oblivion associated with your words.

I see you losing your grip to your ego. You have to let it go. Withdraw from the world and take hold of your mentality. Hold on for sanity. I used to idolize you, second nature like oxygen. I used to idolize you, how longs its been, since you loved you?

Sometimes I scroll through your shit because I know your moods. I know your days and your reaction to this world. I used to take it to heart. See myself in every letter and punctuation mark, it was always about me. I was self-absorbed. When I realized your world wasn’t me, that it was crashing down, pilotless with no GPS, I knew that I knew nothing of love. I was a fool.

I see you losing your grip. I sense you leaving yourself, not invested in self-wealth. And I sit here with my screen on trying to text you. But how do I say hello when I know you wont hear me? When I know you’re too far gone.


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