195500
I got my flow back when I get my dough back. I knew I should have been focused on the right thing but always in the wrong place at the wrong time, it called America. My prose for its disdain has grown strong and loving seemed right and now its wrong.
I was heartbroken, I was Castille, I was literary heart broken. Those beats stopped and the protest beats begin.
Im in full protest mode. I see the world for it is. The world. It was built on something and on that list you can include the backs of blacks and we are the forgiving type when we should be ripe with envy buried in struggle and choking on our own blood.
I would I could see something us but I realized the direction of our salvation is wealth. We dont have it and we need it. We need to consume it and bleed it. We are kings and queens but not of gold teeth but of a golden legacy, a golden perspective and a richness of what it truly means to be black.
