You are the thief of truth. You pretend to make me strong when in actuality you supply me with debilitating thoughts. You cast my feet in promise with a mixture of rocks and mud and you tell me I am “where I’m suppose to be”. So I wave bye to love and water to remain the intelligence you have attached me to.
You are a thief that has labeled some of the most critical minds I know as “activists” when they are flesh and blood
You are a thief that has labeled some of the most creative minds I know as “poets” when they are artists
You are a thief that has labeled brown skinned women as “strong and fierce” when they are growing silently
Your understanding of me is just an illusion. I cannot stand in an understanding phase when it should be digested and turned into wisdom. I should flow. Attachment, you are a thief that has kept me stagnant and I now rebuke you.