© Feb. 3, 2022. All Rights Reserved.
The stories of my love life may help others, but, I must mention the interferences
Like a scream of kind consciousness, sprouting from the understory of roots, with effulgence.
More than a curated playlist, the outdoors can contribute to my remaining happiness,
But who wants to have grandchildren with all that’s going on in the world, for the world’s ending.
I used to cry before I would defeat opponents at board games because we have feelings.
I recall as a child, hugging my father and he spanked me for a past event, faded.
Maybe it was me tearing up a dollar bill, concealing my unawareness of things.
I used to greet objects and living organisms like “Hi car. Hi cat” and people laughed.
I’d be bullied regularly by my older brother who has bipolar disorder,
Where I’d hear how angry he is, when there was no cause, but he’d harm me, repeating my words.
I’ve loss my smile to the devil and if my past was recorded on a pro camcorder,
You just may think differently, like how I should’ve inherited popularity.
There’s how I was told by my father to talk to my brother, to build up my social skills,
But he has a speech disorder and short term memory loss, only to accuse someone.
He argued with my father daily, but I wanted overlarge sodas with free refills.
He had psychological evaluations and threatened to murder the family.
Brothers are being brothers, when I’ve told others and heard racial jokes release from his mouth.
Then he’s not offensive, from bisexual to anti-LGBT, so it appears.
The same person to say he’ll stop bullying me for oral sex, I didn’t go down south.
I wasn’t molested, but my mind was, where he’d hog video games and action figures.
My childhood consisted of parental control, but a part of me thought it was normal.
Often, I’d be told that I’ll be taught how to cook, then my dad wanted me to watch him cook.
Once, I saw my brother lick the silverware while doing the dishes, so that’s no riddle.
I’ve thought about slitting my wrist, but never went through with it, for I thought I’d have a life.
Whenever we went outside, my brother’s dressed up like if a gateway drug was a person,
Wearing a winter coat during the summer and going shirtless during the winter weather.
The embarrassment I would get while walking with him vanished, but I wanted a weapon.
I got used to exiting the apartment smelling like onions that can make kittens cry.
Wherever I went, family went: from libraries, convenience stores, and supermarkets.
I was told to never open the front door for strangers, even if it’s the President.
When I watched professional wrestling, my brother would turn the channel, faster than jets,
Pummeling me while saying he will not allow me to grow up to become a wrestler.
When I was ready to have an occupation, I was told to focus on my schooling.
I was the one with hand-me-downs in high school, wearing the same few shirts and shoes for 4 years.
My brother ran down the hallways daily, jumping over objects like life is a bed spring.
Students would mock me because of my brother, because I’m not hip, and because I’m not loved.
The first woman I fancied was Selena Quintanilla, then I found out, that she’s dead.
I learned about the “N” word when I was 15 in high school, then never stopped hearing it.
Nobody really taught me what the word meant after I asked, but there’s black people widespread.
I’ve seen so many blacks, I felt like I saw other races for the first time, besides the whites.
When my brother got a girlfriend, he mocked me about lacking one, removing my glasses,
But what’s worse is that at least two of them admitted to wanting to date me, which is gross.
I was called Steve Urkel by people pleasures wanting me to prove my coolness in classes.
Some women flirted too fast in the public eye, laughed at my setbacks, or acted in love.
Like a parent said their child’s not allowed to date until they’re 33, when Jesus died,
Like a war bride confessing her heartbreaks, but wounds up kissing your cross-eyed enemy’s lies,
And like being trapped in revolving doors, until the simplest words can leave you tongue-tied.
I can be framed by the cops, who say if I loved my girlfriend, I wouldn’t be in prison.
My high school friend dated my high school crush, then wounded up stealing my cell phone and iPhone.
My other high school crush wounded up taking someone to prom who claimed to do crack cocaine.
She sat on my lap for a prom picture, but years later, claimed to not know me, but I’m grown.
I’ve even fantasized about having sex with female teachers, but that would be too much.
There were times I greeted a student who lived right across the street, then it became small talk,
But years later, after friending her on Facebook, she didn’t message me back on my phone.
I gave her a compliment and she says she likes all races, but maybe she should sleepwalk,
To keep dreaming of when she can get to know me for me or ask the question of why.
My high school involved me getting the green light to join the wrestling team from my father,
Then I return home and my father says, “I never told you to join the wrestling team.”
It was when my brother got kicked in and out the apartment, breaking walls, and more to bother,
He tried to force me to help him write books, and still, to this day, he’s writing the same stories.
High school was back when I asked out a woman and she said she’s not ready, but that’s a lie.
I saw her in the hallway the following day kissing a guy and she didn’t push back.
She met up with my so-called friends and they pretended like I had on Air Force 1’s, but why?
Either they wanted me to impress her or they were all teasing me, unsurprisingly.
Students bullied me so much, the staff claimed riding a short, yellow school bus with my brother,
Protected me, but it just made plenty people assume I had a mental disorder.
I can go without talking for days, but people ask questions and people lived my color,
But they haven’t lived me, learning that social awkwardness is not something I’ll just undo.
Sometimes, my father would joke about him having cameras watching me and my older brother,
Then repeat it as if though he’s serious, but what would he need cameras for if God’s here?
My father would wake me up, complaining on phone conversations, like he found my mother,
Calling for the supervisors, because employees know how to be unprofessional.
My first girlfriend contacted me on MySpace, back when I had music on my profile page,
Back when I accepted the devil over God, believing in false doctrines that caused harm.
There was an error, where I saw her private messages, feeling like I was in a cage.
She was in Texas, messaging another Satanist and when brought up, she denied it.
Serving the devil can give you money, fame, and supernatural powers for your soul.
I asked for like $400,000,000, to become a wrestler, and maybe rapper.
I practiced Satanism to where I can levitate and see spirits like a bankroll.
I practiced alone, but I remained with my online girlfriend, believing in loyalty.
If my father never argued with me for literally 8 hours or more in a day,
Repeating the subjects of school, family, and religion, then I could be better off.
He went from believing in the Trinity to Jehovah, interrupting what I say,
But if I just try reasoning with him, he yells, “Are you listening? Are you listening?”
What girlfriend did I have, for I remember having my hands and a desktop computer.
I remember watching naked goth women online, putting effort in their appearance.
While watching such, an on-screen message popped up, reading, “I’m watching you” like a suitor.
The years of mental pleasures were flushed when I exit my bedroom door, seeing my dad laugh.
He laughed so long till I laughed, but I was irate, knowing he invaded my privacy.
I’ve heard about others experiencing Stockholm syndrome, but I want independence.
I became what I hated, cheating because she cheated, but there was no intimacy.
The next woman birthed a child and two more with someone else and said that we never dated.
My next girlfriend contacted me on IMVU, saying she had a racist father.
He got ahold of her emails, then called me names, only to say I can date the woman.
He changed his mind, but he became homeless after getting kicked out of the house, but don’t bother.
She was far in Minnesota and when she was traveling to see me, she ditched me.
Elliot Rodger’s story surfaced the internet, where some groups felt like justice was served.
He was an involuntary celibate who was mocked and needed someone to talk to,
Unlike sales callers that can get called racial slurs or bill collectors with their 60s swerved.
Be careful because what if a romance scammer makes a future freedom fighter homeless?
Since I’m a Targeted Individual, I found out that celebrities will mock me.
How I’d say the phrase “Love’s children,” then Enzo Amare, a gangster, said he’s a love child.
My message go against the thug mentality and the synonym for such is bully.
Since I’m not serving the devil, my pact with him’s nonexistent, for I have Jesus.
No longer do I watch pro wrestling, but more people used subliminal messages.
From when I simply posted about an online mixed tag team, wrestling used the idea.
I was scrawny, whining to an instructor about wanting that job, but life holds grudges.
I don’t recognize myself because I was blacklisted and it cost money just to train.
Before I was fired from my last job, an employee (not the boss) rejected my ideas,
Then he decided to write about one of them without my permission.
More so, some people question if I like video games, but I do like pizzerias.
Many women love cats; I’m now allergic, but I do like liver-spotted Dalmatians.
One independent rapper said my name as if I was on Instagram, but I wasn’t.
He pretended to murder XXXTentacion, then hid a video.
In such, he laughed about being in the Illuminati, but he’ll find out what’s pleasant.
I just refuse to obey a the world that participates in illegal activities.
I remember Slim Shady made the song Kill Shot and the symbol had a target on it.
The sign reminded me of Targeted Individuals, so I posted about it,
Then the rapper said how an artist was off beat and I proved that I can spit,
Only for him to bring up gnats multiple times, after I posted that I was going through that.
His buddy came out with a song called Love Tap, but love doesn’t tap and I’m thinking “Hate taps.”
What contest and 2 years later, you’ve not destroyed the socially awkward, mocking my views.
My views are rigged and the rapper against bullying said he’d never stop like kidnaps,
But you miss the point because evil falls in death traps, but a god should know if they’ll be trapped.
Other women caught onto the messages I sent to you, favoring you sexually.
One woman was proud to have sex with a preacher and favored you but pretend like I’m bad.
If I want to draw, people may remember your face and one woman I drew rejected me.
One particular woman I dated, hardly messaged me, so it wasn’t official.
I don’t want to risk my girlfriend seeing my father and he yells at her, spreading gossip.
I don’t want my brother being unpredictable, groping her rear, then I’m in prison.
I don’t want the main topic to be her race or religion, but I want a partnership.
I want us to put God first, but if I’m evil, give me my $400,000,000.
Without explaining it, my new friend’s more important than a romantic relationship.
Once, I told a romance scammer how I dealt with modern racism and they could care less,
But my friend was there to prevent faults and offering her heart, brighter than a comic strip.
Isaiah Lawrence 