I STOPPED

I stopped being the tea-mug you remember whenever you need a shot

I stopped being the wooden fan you search for when everything gets hot

I stopped being the onions that drives water out from your eyes

I stopped being the horror scene that repeats in your head whenever you close your eyes

I stopped being the tickles you had whenever you feel a touch

I stopped being the man that handles your waistbeads without a touch

I stopped being the streetlight pole that brought to your window panes vivid street views

I stopped being the bolt and knot that ties you down when everything get screws

I stopped being the doormat that cleans up your feet when things get dirty

I stopped being the man in your mirror with filthy fingers and hair so dirty

I stopped being the poetry lines you read with furrowed eyebrows and soft hisses

I stopped being the apple fruit you couldn't spare just tiny pieces

I stopped being the black boy in your gallery that looks like a bat

I stopped being the caretaker of your heart's two bedroom flat

I stopped being the boy that kisses the dusk and dawn breeze on streetside bench

I stopped being the ghetto kid whose fate was marred and wrenched

I stopped being the boy that knocks on your door every dawn to ask for leftover

I stopped being the boy with scars, bleeding knees and scraps beside the red tower

I stopped being the hero you watch with bewilderment written on your face

I stopped being the lame lines poet you knew on this blue and white space

I stopped being the me you had in the left corner of your heart

I stopped !.. I stopped being the black boy that rides a mysterious cart

I stopped being your ignition switch, the kick and the start!

© Iamteazhy