KINGS BLEED TOO

Dad has been sober from drugs for 27 years of his life. His son is 30 years old. My Superhero. My King. My idol; been imperfect, been in pain. He's been dealing with issues of loneliness, abandonment, self-worth, depression, and identity. Dad went on to have 4 sons. All 4 of them different, like the 3 different Mothers who birthed them. One of them, like his Father is, like his Mother is, was always into something. He sang in the church choir. He played the lead role in all the school plays, and always stood out whenever he had a ball in his hands.

He always kept a journal, just like his Mother. He was always writing/expressing his voice thru scribbled words only he could read. These days he still writes, as does his Mother. 30 years of pain. 30 years of joy. 30 years of tears. This is his story so far. Kings Bleed Too. Welcome to his fears.

To Whom It May Concern

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To Whom It May Concern:

I remember the feeling of trusting you. I remember the tears that came down your eyes, the night in your laundry room, you told me you loved me. That wasn’t the first time you said it, but it was the first time i believed you. How dark of a space I was in to believe truth in your green cold lying eyes.

I remember that night in the back of our uber riding to Meat Packing for my bosses birthday party. It was cold, 20 degrees to be exact. But nothing was as cold as the content in your phone. Im not one to lurk, but your phone’s screen was so bright, i couldn’t help but glance. Amazing how bright screens can make a secure and smart brother feel all kinds of stupid.

They say there is no more honest dialogue than that of a woman in a groupchat with her closest friends. The trust that resonates throughout inner circles is profound. So when i read msgs of you telling your friends that you loved another man who was living in another state with his 4th girlfriend, i immediately felt.

But you know I can’t go out like that, right? You know I can’t be “that nigga” right? But to my surprise, I already was.


The best friend i was supposed to spend my enternities with. Remember the time we went to an event and i introduced you as my girlfriend? You smiled and reminded me afterwards that titles hadn’t been agreed to. I apologized, but you understood where I was coming from. You knew my heart wasn’t projecting some sort of misogynistic ideals. You knew that i was excited to be with you, in public, and was madly in love with you. Still, we proceeded to carve away at this sculpture. Trying to refine the pieces to create the kind of art that only God could appreciate.

The only woman to gazed into my soul and touch my heart with her eyes, sent me a text saying that she was 6 months pregnant. Months prior, with tears coming down her eyes, she told me that she envisioned me as her husband and father to her children. But as the universe would have it, the child that she was bearing was indeed not my seed. Still my phone blew up, still people approached me with well wishes and encouraging thoughts. It was awkward. Uncomfortable at minimum. Knox said these feelings were sure to inspire some art  ; but there weren't enough tears to cover up the marathon of heartache in which my soul felt. I put on my clothes. I proceeded to run. No destination. I simply wanted to escape that pain. I ended up somewhere, somewhere I had never been before. I ended up finding something I never knew. I ended up up at invincible.