remembering tomorrow
Let us forget the world
'til we remember tomorrow
Those days we lend so often to borrow
To have, and to hold in bliss and sorrow
Drifting to a space we never had
Ugly, the good, and the bad
Hidden truths lose their position
Shuttered loose-Can you imagine?
A perfect canvas of all that happened?
Picture that forbidden kiss
Who knew we would end up like this?
after careful tip toes in jungles of fear
fell in quicksand- don't move, we'll stay here
Let's get stuck in love
To think that we snuck in love
Skinny-dipped in-the-thick in Love
Breaststroking the impossible
Made winding rivers in the desert
Walked the trifling water where drowned our pride
hearts so openly disguised
While losing far sight of self
for the near sake of someone else
show them what they can't discover
It's not blind if we see each other
eyes contact.
hands are holding.
Don't hold back
Baby you've souled me
Marketed bonding shares we've tallied
between dark and disturbingly dim alleys
Lanes of blank memories to be strolled
Light up the way so they tell what we showed
forget the world
remember tomorrow
Or soon no more days left to borrow
gbongbo
I am from ata rodo.
from middle class struggles wrapped in piles of lace and ankara.
I am from Arlington Ave by way of Innis, Holland and E 59th.
and ’Itʼs always the second bump' no matter which way you're coming from.
I am from the omorogun; whose dealings were harsh, but still ate what was given.
I am from glorified hand-me-downs.
I am from Just for Me and The Lion King.
from Abiodun and sometimes Akindude- whenever it mattered.
and from hotter heads and from cooler tempers.
from Saturday morning
from family meetings
from house cleaning and dance contests
from afternoons spent giving to the needy
I am from “Blessed is the man…",
from weekly devotionals and Sunday school recitations.
from the Lion, from the Lamb.
from grace, and from glory.
from ogi and akara.
from names mispronounced.
from Uncle Gbengaʼs run-in with the Lord
from Aunti Kemiʼs running to the army.
from "I'll be right back…" to "do you remember me?”
from open wounds
from abandoned posts.
from locking myself up to document frustrations.
I am from the moments forced in the kitchen.
from growing up too soon, and coming out too late.
from wearing full armor with your heart on your sleeve.
from the top of the hour, from the bottom line.
from talking to God. from listening closely from too far away.
I am from promises broken--simply because they were never mine to keep.
How much is this?
Just asking if it’s worth it.
Knowing your kind
Seeing the end when we haven’t even started running yet.
The hurt seems to be the lesser of the evils
No one likes being alone
No one wants to think that they aren’t valued
Yet the company we keep
Are the ones that treat us like we were better off alone
I hate knowing that you lie to me every time we speak
Where can i carry this complaint to?
I got myself into this
