Drink. Drink up.
Fill yourself with BCAA and whey,
The extra nutrients, extra calories, extra power, extra powder,
To fill yourself in more,
As if you aren’t already big enough to exist.
Eat. Eat everything you can.
Load up on carbs,
Stack on more proteins,
so you can do one more hang clean
At your 3 hour gym work out
In the morning.
Lift. Lift all your insecurities.
You know sculpting your body
Is also people wanting to sculpt you
Into more than just skin and bones.
But after all that,
You’re still just skin with bones.
To mask that fact
That you were secretly
Too small to be successful.
Too minute to be a man.
Just a failure.
By some standard
Who you are is not enough,
You need to be tough.
You need to be able to lift up a bar with 400 pounds
To be able to go reps and rounds
Of benching 20 pounds over your PR (personal record)
You set just last week.
Decreasing in size, in weight
Somehow makes you less valuable,
Somehow makes you less man.
You did this for you,
As all the dudes do,
But most do this for them.
The people that say,
“Do you even lift bro?”
But when will they stop lifting
the burdens that others throw on them?
The extra 100 pounds won’t make
the weight of the pressure, the shame, the unreal expectations
Lifting what you, what guys, what men hear
Off of their shoulders
Is the ultimate PR.
(She) you love me for being broken,
Broken into like a jewelry store.
Only to be left with
And checked out cash registers.
Broken for being loved
In such way that love
Breaks a heart,
But shatters a soul’s
(He) you love me broken
Broken in general
For the room is more
They adore my brokenness
To bend me inspire than one way
Sedated to know manipulation.
Yet, I am enchanted.
Yes, despite the broken strings of the broken
Strum that still brokenly echoes off pitch in the broken
Storage that allows
Things to come and go
In one piece,
I am splendidly shattered.
The broken only breaks
What must be fixed.
I stand before you,
as a creation from countless conflicts;
a birth from burned bridges
that history tries to bury,
covering the truth with dirt and mud and soil;
but, even the forgotten seeds
may grow through the toughest of toils;
may sprout from the slightest of sunshine
when skies reflect the blood, the tears, the dull gray stains
that drip through the very blood in my veins,
descended and blessed by my ancestors
who struggled then so I can have my todays.
History is not just his story,
or their story,
but my story as I came from the roots
from my people who left legacies
in the seeds
and survive through me–
sprouting more seeds.
I have added value to myself,
Subtracted negativity from my health,
Divided my time into sections,
And multiplied my worth beyond perfection.
Do you know how it feels to be called a chope?
do you think you can cope with this feeling of not feeling dope?
Is communicating so hard that when you speak you almost choke?
I know how you feel, not to mention sad and broke.
Even though I was born in cali,
I was still bullied for being a fatty,
lived in a house of nine but it felt empty.
My father worked two jobs I barely saw him
My mom couldn’t be here legally
and didn’t want to come illegally.
My auntie tried replacing her,
but couldn’t and I won’t ever blame her
she had three kids of her own
and had enough worries of her own
I had to face my problems, couldn’t run.
Didn’t have the newest clothes
Didn’t have the trendy brands,
I wanted to be a G, I wanted to be in
at least I would have a rag to brag about,
good thing I never took that route.
For months I carried weight in my bag that
was so heavy my bag ripped and my pants sagged
My confidence kept on dipping
and I kept on slipping,
Graduation was coming quickly
and college seemed like a possibility,
I promised a better future for my family
I told them one day I’ll drive a Bentley
I don’t care too much about the money
But in this world we gotta get by financially.
A home for my family I will provide
As long as I have enough to get me that
My pride will remain intact
and I won’t ever have to sell my soul to get me that.
I respect the law but won’t stand next to ignorance,
I won’t apprehend or praise negligence.
These borders don’t protect us
these borders disconnect us,
add fuel to the burning hate!
open up the gate,
A human is not an alien
Make American Great again?
when did America stop being great?
A human is not an alien,
DON’T you dare use that term again.