Russell Wardlow

I see you mama
don’t be led astray by these deceitful people, nor let the distance mislead you mama
they judge when they see you, but I see a good heart haunted by demons and surrounding evil mama
people are as they judge, but don’t budge cuz you not evil mama
shhh, be peaceful mama
be resilient and let the spirit keep you mama
my heart is your temple until the day my name will build you a cathedral mama
let your karma be your armor mama
and let love arm ya mama
I know about trauma mama
it can make you a monster amongst mambas pythons and anacondas mama
I know how all the trauma you weather and weathered for better through whatever,
when most would have been conquered you acted unbothered with the strength of a father, despite the guilt on your conscience, you remained dauntless mama
in awe just watching how you topple all your problems and drama mama
I understood that your way of life is resilience under stressful situations and it impressed and imprinted on me so much that it became my name and mantra mama
but you gon make it
your struggles make you a saint, so your pain is sacred
so rise from out that basement
walk to the light and face it
because you are now armed like a bracelet
release yourself from those chains and hold strong to all your changes and your favorite savior and faith in your creator, despite pains craters, your belief is a cure and curator, just as your spirit defies your age making you ageless
go at the diversity of adversity with an equal passionate rage
as defiant as a lion crying or roaring through abhorrent torrents of torment and torture, imploring his aura, to take over the surrounding grounds and decor, as the jungles prevailing lord, its mane, like your hair, adding stories to his lore, his light shinning like prismed orbs, clawing and chewing through the gore, of hunting for more, embodied as prey, and as you pray, you are now all chance and opportunities predator
through all the bullshit, freedom and opportunity still taunts you like matadors
but even as you’re vulnerable you refuse to be torn into, split separated, and torn in two
because in these streets you graduated as a valedictorian, and don’t wish to take a moment back even in a dolor-ian
ma you’ve been forewarned, from your spawn born, and I’m imploring you, amongst everything swarming you
occupy your own universe you’ve mastered like a university
just enter into your adverse orpheum dorm or auditorium of abnormal emporiums taking it all in through your corneas
and be in awe and marvel
at all you mauled that tried to corner ya, all you seen, been through and accomplished with endorphins spiked like dorsal fins, you a shark in the sea, because like drake said, you’re in God form walking amongst immortal men, so remember that with each morning you’re yawning in

I was just a fetus
sometimes, I can almost remember the times, as if I was aware, conscious, and responsive to the expanse of my current memories of when you used to talk to me when I was inside of your stomach
you were only a young desperate alienated scared traumatized and hopeful woman
but throughout all you were going through, you stayed protective and prepared for what was coming
and you would say its OK baby, ‘we gon’ make it’

now I’m far from and outside of you
and the times have beaten you, trauma has still left its scars in a world that has alienated your strength and story, rendering you misunderstood and unappreciated to everyone else, as you are too proud to cry for help
when it’s what you do for others that has only made you feel like you had any semblance of worth in self, but now as a man, I’m whispering to you, we gon’ make it
we gon’ make it
we gon’ make it
ma! you gon make it!

and I know life has been the betrayed love that deceives and cheats on you, as you cater to a wounded heart that keeps on breakin and bleeding through
but ma! you gon’ make it!

I know the lows have the longest holds on you, and there’s no more reason for there to be struggles you have to shoulder through
you getting older and your passion may no longer smolder, as your bones begin to feel colder and your movements a bit slower, but I got a butterfly pictured inside my arm tucked like folder, and I see my Gemini butterfly fluttering to the sky
ingesting light like enzymes, serenaded by my rhymes
as I say, we gon make it
ma you gon make it

and I wish I could shield you, but I’m reminding you that I can feel you, and I know you needed to hear this in the worst way, so from your first son, like a happy birthday

but I just learned that possibly again this country and system failed you
I don’t even know what I can begin to tell you
I can’t call or email you
I’m in a cell that feels like a shell too
while learning of another one of your falls that they consider as fails and the only way that they rather help you
is to jail you
revocating your parole as there’s something deeper that ails you
while placing you in a cell, where you get to watch if they slide your mail through
it’s like watching you placed in a coffin as they hammer the last nail through

now where do I go from here?
hope and the promises I hear sound more like jokes, smoke and mirrors
it’s already hard to focus here
when the holes in here and the open ears, try to hold you here, and the road will veer, when you close and near, as atonement leers
bemoaning fears
thoughts roam the spheres like drones in air
swollen tears
no one cares
no sincere, person will take a second to phone you dear
tired
woman
speaking of gut feelings, I knew something was off, cuz I arised from your stomach…so I know what’s there
and you’re at your wit’s end
you couldn’t even correct one split end
even if you combed your hair
you’d have to cut it all off and start all over again
but how many restarts can you have in one existence, when problems seem like they never will end

many won’t, and one truly isn’t enough
but I see you mama, even as I’m tearing up
and I wish I could give you reasons to keep you from giving up