I’ve got to work through this anger

That’s why I’m writing, huh?

It’s why you run.

It’s why she sings.

It’s my thing to spit ink.

It’s my thing to paint mean things

I honest on paper

I not afraid to be seen

I invisible back

I chomp and bite

Like a skyscraper at night

Cutting a line always

That is there when not

You’re not bigger than me

You’re a second to my minute

You’re a knock knock to my full-length play

You’re a chord to my LP

You’re an exhale to my long long life

And I’m aware that it sounds like I hate you

But I don’t think of you enough to hate you.

I just hate that you only saw me and still see me as

Utility