I am a writer who does not write
I am a poet who has not written poetry

I am rendered speechless
Rendered like each pixel of me
Slowly coming into focus
From a gaussian blur
So that others may see me better

But no matter how focused I seem to be
My vision is blurred
I don’t see things the same way
I can’t process life in the same rate
I just sit silent and solid to carry the weight
Placed on my broad shoulders
And staying silent like a soldier
Because the duty has just been handed to me
And I don’t ask questions

I am rendered speechless
I have nothing much to say
Because my father figure of speech
Has been taken away
Like a cat has taken my tongue
Like my fugitive words are on the run
like trying to sew my seams as they come undone
and doing all this without complaining
because I am rendered speechless

mother figure of speech teaches me
to speak with beauty about all things
while my father figure of speech
teaches me to speak the truth of all things
no matter how ugly or rugged they can be
truth is never meant to be digested so easily
each figures teaching me differently
as yin and yang should be
as woman and man, they lead
me into being the leader they envisioned me to be

but I am rendered speechless

my tongue tied with barbed wire
leaving keloid scars
everytime I call for him
I bleed words for him
Give birth to words for them
Trying to be the voice of the voiceless

He cupped my cheeks as he says
“I live vicariously through you”
while I die vicariously through him

he was plucked from his heart
uprooted from the soil
in which he was once grounded
once was stable
but Lady of Justice’s blindfold was
just tied on too tightly because
she cannot see shades of grey
just black and white
or in his case, shades of brown
guilty before proven innocent
putting words in our mouths
like shoving her legal bullshit down
with a clack of her gavel
might as well be a click of a gun
because she shot down any of our pleads
any of our hopes
any of our faith
that we had in the system
cause never did we thought it can happen to him
that it can happen to us
that our lawyer turned face
in a matter of a month
52 letters written for him
52 letters from the inks of pens of people who knew him
52 letters housing letters of words arranged in hopes to glorify him
52 letters written of how unexplicable it is to show how good a father
he is
like eulogies do when it is too late to have these words be said to
those
who have left
“I live vicariously thru you” he says
I die vicariously thru him

mother figure of speech teaches me
to speak with beauty about all things
while my father figure of speech
teaches me to speak the truth of all things
no matter how ugly or rugged they can be
truth is never meant to be digested so easily

then why is he in for perjury

because Lady of Justice’s blindfold was
just tied on too tightly because
she cannot see shades of grey
just black and white
or in his case, shades of brown
guilty before proven innocent
guilt proven on assumptions

it was her word against his

whose word is more valuable?

my father figure of speech speak of truth

I am rendered speechless...