The things I do… The things I say
I do them things to keep you out of reach 
Help you wonder why you’re with me?
What you ever saw in me…
The things I do… those things I say…
It’s because I got used to the broken kind of love
That shatters windows, and splinters walls
Knife digging kind of romance
Hatred instilled after years, 
Deep cuts engraved into fore arm skin 
Kind of Love.
Loving me is Hard.
You look at the pictures of your Ma and Pa
Sitting on top of cars he owned,
You imagine music blaring’, like it’s the 80’s
(Just coz it is the 80’s)
They’re holding hands, smiling…
Picture 1 trough Picture 113 
And you piece their story with your imagination
Unafraid to Love me, despite the fact that He left your Mother
Baby, He left your Mother&his seeds
You have the real courage, baby….
Loving me is Hard.
I look at My Mama n Tata pictures
And I saw them smiling and posing, in the midst of the 80’s
(What is it with the 80’s? Why did distress arrive with the 90’s?)
And you know what? 
I see My Mama holding a knife, watching him sleep
Both of them crying divorce every year…
And I CAN”T. I absolutely cannot accept Love…
No, not in my heart, especially, baby, I don’t know how to Love 
I mean that a couple of times,
I screamed on top of roofs and buildings: ‘Im in love... Can yall’ hear me???’
With Guys that took advantage of my weakness
It wasn’t even Love: It was an agreement.
They treated me like if I was common. Easy. Replaceable.
And I agreed because I couldn’t, I wouldn’t love ME…
But YOU...
You ask me what’s my favorite poem and what verse I like the best
You tell me I should start open mic, because you know I’ll be great
You tell me I’m your greatest inspiration
More importantly, you walk the walk, daddy, as much as you talk the talk
Just to make ME happy…
My Word is golden. My writing is important. 
My body is sacred. My thoughts are respected…
And YET… I reject all of that. Everyday.
I test you, and see how far I can go, 
Before you tear down the walls, and rip off the floors
Of OUR foundation…
Loving me is hard.
But
I will lay down more bricks, and paint more walls
Get down on my knees, and scrub the floors
I will be more active in building us a Home
A real home: inside my soul and yours
Loving me might be hard, but I will bear fruits in the near future,
I promise…