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Writer's pictureSam John

Muddled.

Muddled.


I...

Don't know.

Why my mind is convoluted, clouded, and frustrated.


I usually know exactly what to say and how to figure things out.

I can do it!

I can do it, right?


If I want it, I can do it.

Manifestation... This concept that brings me all the power and taps into the universe.


Sure, it works for some but I have had no such luck.

I have been intentional.

I have fought for it.

I have scratched and clawed to be here.

In this country.

And do it the right way.


My mind races.

My heart beats at paces that I am not familiar with.

I try and try to be the best me I can be...

To live according to the code I've set for myself in line with my God's word.


I am alone. I am afraid. I am unprotected.

These lies.

Left to fester for so long.

Caused the clouds to grow larger and darker.


No longer.

Clarity is not forever.

My artistry demands returning to a state of confusion.


But... I am not afraid.

I sit in the darkness and the confusion, knowing that it's time is nigh and it has been defeated already.


Yours faithfully,

Qavah.


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