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KonciouSLea “12 to Life”:

Corporal Luv’ish-meant (Formerly Wielded Respect formerly Multi-Purpose Tools)

the slave mentality that made me want to run away
textbook pages turned
words lifted and ingrained
Lessons learned for these tools utilized for one purpose would not always be
The question was, if it would adapt to me?

the slave mentality which wielded a cracking whip
a “giddy up” and cattle herding was for its intent
These transformed to the raw lashes on backs for production
The question was and is, now what’s its function?

“Yes Massah, I’ll bail yo hay!”
“Yes M’am, I’ll behave in school!” 
No difference we were bred to take it
We live as this is an unspoken rule

Respect our massah through the faking
‘til we make it humbly naked
Respect these beatings and these whoopins,’ discipline to the grave like slaves they were took in

the slave mentality made me want to run away
from these belts which were intended for pants
from these extension cords lead to the box
to help make food last 
these objects would make us call out to the Lord
Lies of the forked tongue
Asp on a double edged sword

the slave mentality adapted and used  
Changed and became these multipurpose tools
We Beat or be beat
Then we Slave or enslave
…discipline it’s called
As history repeats again and again and.  .  .

© 2015 KonciouSLea written with a cracked whip
#corporalpunishment #slavementality 


Sometimes I reflect on what were thought to be inviting glazes
. . .what if’s so to speak
A warm smile
A certain touch
All during great conversations. . .with a friend
Then I think, ‘I’m glad it’s an opportunity missed’
Because I really would hate to have hurt you. 

KonciouSLea Written as the stars didn’t align…or did they?

#KonciouSLea #Poetry #Unaligned

Molestation’s Gift

Bottom line…I am a survivor of childhood sexual assault and this is my story. I hope that it helps others. “Let this poem be someone else’s bravery.”

The walls in that apartment can tell the story better than the mind

It speaks with a stench on its breath of Wild Irish Rose, and reaches out with heroin filled veins

The insides cry and swell in a room where toy Army men were used to try to groom

innocence into a monster

The only thing left are parts of a looming pain with seeds in its wake and partners wondering why

These parts cannot be underestimated for they are bigger than the most generous heart

He carries Brooklyn on his back

He carries every transitional move from state to state and piles on more for those who walk the same track

Humbled and broken

He carries it for the thugs unspoken

For loves unchosen

For those doing the bid leaving the shank in the offenders heart hoping . . . .that’s the same gift giver who offended him

He never knows

As he goes through life aimlessly seeking self

Relationships inconsistencies ruining his health

Because fucking always feels good he never means to fail at love

THAT focus. . .like the sniper behind the scope it remains in sight

Though the war internally rages on

The walls in that apartment can tell the story better than the mind

Of how a childhood lost may never be found

The straw of hay in the pin cushion he is stuck every time

A new focus of truth is found

Blood pours from fingertips which a bandage can never hold

Now old and clotted it remains hardened yet hopefully pardoned in this wake

For goodness sakes save me…outstretched arms praise He

Let this poem be someone else’s bravery

Let it be someone else’s bravery. . . .

© KonciouSLea Written through bravery

Depends* (KonciouSLea edited)

The oldest couple in the room
I want to be them
One can tell they have stood the tests of time
They’re cute. . .watch

Without hesitation he looks around 
She hands him the salt
Without asking he orders her a water and asks for extra napkins

We have seen couples and thought
“I want to be where they are”
Without knowing what their shoes look like
They smile at each other through awkward silences. . .watch

It looks like a dead relationship
but they know each others buttons and quirks
Years of his laundry just thrown on the floor
Years of her controlling the t.v.
They don’t just mind each other
They’re behind each other

This…is the couple that has been on top of the world
You make me feel that way
I could be on top of the world then you make me feel higher
The sound of your voice, the sweetest desire
Your smile, warm
It feels like home
It feels. . .eternal
A love that lasts forever

I imagine real love and it’s your face I see
A love that doesn’t have to be hidden
Like the couple that helps each other
There are no prompts or cues it just is
I want to be that couple…with you
They buy Depends* together
“It didn’t matter as long as we’re together” type of couple
I’ll wear Depends* with you
Stand the tests of time with you
Still hold the door for you
Watch our children grow and weather the storm. . .with you

©KonciouSLea Written with wearing adult briefs in mind…with you

#adultbriefs #Depends #truelove #couples

Photo by KonciouSLea © 



I killed myself 131 days ago
The deceitfulness of denial reaking of dung could not be concealed any longer
The path is deeply embedded with fingernail marks on the way to the depths of hell representing the scars within
The slithering skin of shame is swathed in a cloak lined with wool and the itch is likened to the most poisonous ivy
My hands were bound yet it was a pain loathed and loved
Longed for
Forgotten then returned to
The seemingly sweat from the steadfast struggle to escape is the swamp of the salivation rising to my neck
The hunger caused me to chew my tongue
Therefore I was eating myself from the inside

Does the butterfly go through pain during Metamorphosis?
Does a baby ache during gestation?

This was necessary for rebirth
There was no rethinking this one year ago
The yawn in the morning was enough to cramp the jaw
Contemplation and premeditation lead to an anticipation of an end result and I’m imagining a free flight
Without bondage of even my inner most thoughts
A dream of freedom
Not without admission
A telekinetic breaking of the chains release my feet and I begin my journey
Liberating myself from the saliva filled pool of self loathing and sorrow
So deep in the dark abyss that the air constricts the shortest of breathes
Gasps for air like releasing the seal of a mason jar after years of preservation
My greatest insecurity blanketed
The rub was the notion that this life was for me

I flew my ship toward the stars and plunged it into the sun
Flames satisfying the itch

Ever ignore a pain always there?

The pain is only there if acknowledged
I fly now, but never alone.

Konciouslea Written

You Light Me Up

Through the simplest existence of your being
The smell of your hair ignites all that is within me
Sending a reaction throughout my body arousing all other senses
like feeling a light breeze on my neck the hairs dance
You Light Me up

The warmth of your hugs make the coldest winters non-existent
The anticipation of impact emits a glow felt to my toes
The thump of your heart felt through my own chest and we sway to its rhythm
The world spins though it feels as if time has stopped
You Light Me up like the core of the earth

Through the simplest existence of your being I am drawn
The slightest touch from your finger tips
They bring ripples of goose bumps and I am under a spell
Submission granted
I don’t mind my feet airy
On cloud nine I’m standing gravitating toward stars which spell your name
They know for its written on my heart
It’s warm like summer

The sparkle in your eyes intoxicating like a moth to a camp fire
You consume me
I burn with a desire to never be released
I burn with a desire to be. . .engulfed again in your love that is branded into me
The simplest existence of your being is an inferno and I would rather it remain
You Light Me up with an energy that brightens the darkest city at night
This may be alien to some
To me. . .it is a feeling I long for again and again

KonciouSLea Written and needing a cool drink


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