Poetry by Youngblood Elixir
I’m not a short clairvoyant lady but I ‘exercised the demons’
I know the power of semen.
Carol Anne Fingertips lengthen,
From Qi Gong and mind combined ringing.
I won’t make their poets list cause they refuse to notice this,
Lotus bliss gets them pissed so they block with their wrists.
That’s alright I see their spite,
Spirit’s clearly carbonated like Sprite.
It’s funny how the ones who are halfway up the mountain are the first to start feeding,
The ones down at the bottom bleeding will accept your help, cause they’re freezing.
Doesn’t matter though, I stay locked in on the mission.
Fake ass friends are easier to spot now cause I been put through the ringer,
Yeah the phone rings but for energy vampires sucking my index fingers.
One points to my North Star, the other my navel.
How did I allow these narcissists to sit at my table?
I gave them food and all they did was bite my hand.
It’s all ended though no more free meals in this land.
Virtue of selfishness from Ayn Rand.
Cultivate yours, I’ll cultivate mine, maybe we can collaborate in time,
But if you dropping land mines, I’ll raise them feet up into the clouds for avoidance.
Doesn’t matter how loud your noise is cause I’ll drift off in bliss, a cloud in the mist.
For the ones who tried to take me down with them, I bled, but like Lamotta to Sugar Ray “You never got me down.”
I’m still around, don’t validate myself with numbers or frowns.
Cause my inner smile reflects to the outer,
Done the inner work so I can help others show their true self louder.
I don’t walk with cold shoulders, I walk with them detached.
This meals from scratch not artificial,
Don’t think you can snack on this, no chewing on the official.
I’m the referee of my life, wearing the black and white,
I blow the whistle on my offense and defense when they foul,
You act foul, I’m flying away like a fowl.
Give and receive, nothing up my sleeve, what you see is what you see,
You might say, “Damn C, why it gotta be all counting the cheese to confirm the suitcase isn’t fleeced?”
No good deed goes unpunished so I need receipts,
Most humans are just people, didn’t make it this way just experienced the backstabbing,
Not my fault it’s this way just adapting to the phantasm.
Don’t get a spasm, I’m still here for you,
But locking down the fort so I can be here for you.
What’s real is what’s real, not imagined.
Awareness of self and surroundings, not dreaming of a pageant.
When the mask and mascara dry off,
I pry off the fake ones who thought I would die off.
One thought she was Delilah but didn’t know half of what she thought she did,
I’m strong but no Samson, yeah, that’s right, I have no hair to cut. The energy, mine to give.
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