FEEL

FEEL
Another piece from the "Inspired by" series. Feel by Kendrick Lamar (2017)

I could list the feelings I feel like
But all I got is a pen, a heart, and my windpipes
Been feeling confused lately and I wonder why
So I will paint you a picture with this haunting lullaby.

2 am surrounded by the walls vibrating with anxiety wondering
Pondering, identifying why exactly am I having this reaction lately.

On the surface life is a box of daisies, under it all is chaotic and hazy.
Praying for a cathartic release to release me from the feeling of being incomplete

It’s been 4 days since I really meet the cousin of death, sleepless, restless, breathless

False scenarios play a loop in my mind.
I ignore it.

Trying to embrace the reality that I'm going to be fine.
Hypochondriac apparition of enemies heightened my suspicions.

I’m trippin, fallin, stumbling down.
Assassinate my own character, feel safer, seen as a clown.
Pour out my own tears, sensations of impending drowning.
Drowning out the voices that command self damage.

These voices are out of control.
Tossing and turning, spirit is yearning, my body isn’t learning

Facing countless night attacks and still going to work in the morning.
Because bills don't stop for how you feel.

Enter a King on the scene, the outside world doesn’t understand I'm Muhammad Ali in my dream land.
I strap the weight to my back and move on like I own the world.
But when I’m alone I struggle to make it.

No time for self pity, the picture isn’t pretty.
Picasso, survivor of the Alamo, little do I know.
That I actually feel like

Suppression of sound

I feel like I ain't lettin me down
I feel like I earned this crown
I feel like standing up
I feel like I no longer give a fuck
I feel like I know who I am now

I feel like how Malcom X felt staring down that barrel of the gun.
The stage is the place, and this feeling isn’t a fall from grace

I feel like I'm ready for a taste of
All that's meant for me and the vanquishing of my inner most enemies

I feel like
I feel like
I feel like

Injection of adrenaline, coursing through my veins, they question “Who let this man in”
The sword is my pen
And aimed at the page that documents my wins.