Death of black messiahs

Secrets are never taken to graves the dust screams underneath our souls no six feet deep solitude will undo your actions the soil bears witness.

Maybe the struggle is to keep us humble

Teach them how to treat you. Teach them how to love you. They don't know better.

you belong to me but I do not own you

everyday. Realizing the silence will have to be spoken. everyday. The lessons I teach myself and the lessons I teach others around me. "they can't read your silence dear.