Tears from the Ghetto

I grew up in a city where violence makes me act humble. A city where getting hit without hitting back means you fumble. Everyone thinks me proud and always walking alone. If they don't see what have seen or harbour the same pains I have, how do I pretend to be their equal or their everyday typical nice guy. We don't flock together, I'm not a bird.

How do I explain myself to someone else without them thinking I'm proud. Yes I am proud. I know I'm proud. It's not everyone who grew up with me that is still alive. The memories of their losses leave me traumatized. We were one and the same. Just a big family in the hood. In my clique I'm the only one who is still alive. Somehow it affects my state of mind. It ruined me as a child. Depression sucks and so does life without a solid foundation. Everyone else knows the me that walks quietly and not the me that is dying in silence. The hood made us stronger. The hood made us family. Now everyone is gone, and so is the hood. Some lost their lives to the brotherhood. Some got shot by the cops, some got burnt by the mob. I am not talking about just Emman actor and turkor of course. Could you ever believe growing up, turkor and Emma actor were my pen pal and home boys? I had to pretend I wasn't burnt when they were gone.

I grew up not seeing my dad. A hood rat raised me. He used to tell them drop the guns, there is so much power in the words. They never listened. He wasn't the right man to advise them. He had his own demons that were glaring. He was easily given to anger and never held back his tongue. He wasn't proud of himself or how he looked. He had a knocked knee, an ear lobe that was chopped off and dilated pupils that stayed red at all times. He was a crime lord and was always arrested. I think back to all the tears he shed when he said " look how my own life I wasted".

I grew up seeing husbands beating wives, brothers raping sister, fathers wearing skirts,mothers wearing trousers, and I thought that shii was normal. It such a blessing that I made it out of that life alive. From a dirt road this flower grew. Don't you judge me. I didn't grow the same way you grew. I never had a childhood the street took it from me. Seen a lot of people get robbed at gun point. Seen a lot of people snatched from their love ones during the gang war. You won't believe all these things have been through. That is why I stay in my lane cause I'll never understand the need for drama. Nevertheless, the hood taught me never to let my emotions overwhelm me or my vulnerability show. I flirt with confidence and end up kissing doubts. I'll never find myself again. Everything makes me a jerk with a demon stuck in his mind. This life ain't mine. All of me is just a lie planned out for comic reliefs. My aunt thinks she saved me by taking away my gun. She has no idea she's only exposing me to danger. People still die here. I am a psychopath, I still kill me. Depression gets me mad at myself, mad at the world and even you reading this. I am just a nutcase sociopath and misanthrope who scares everyone who loves me away. Only those insane like me stays.

For us to be folks, you must be use to anxiety, depression and mood swings. In my circle is bipolars, OPD, BPD and the rest of us introverted folks introduced by a code. I may never know the real me, this time I hope that you quote. I hide a lot of pains behind the smiles cause am living a life that is isn't mine. Life changed on me and that is so much pains on me. Am just a suicide note walking around this world alone cause nobody ever read me or cared to listen. I don't know how to wanna be friends with you if you think me proud and I scare you. If you ever think am proud, I will tell you this exactly and loud; I am used to walking this world all alone. It's nothing but facts and figures.