done/outgrown

i used to wear anger like a mask,
like the only garment that fit in my emotional wardrobe.
you knew it was me comin
cuz my rage preceded me,
let you know who was in the fuckin building
and i bet you assumed that i was a bitch
or hella hard
or too political (whatever the fuck that means)
or just really really REALLY FUCKIN ANGRY.
and maybe you never stepped to my ass
cuz you couldn't see the person
beneath the fine-tuned machine of my hetero-patriarchy,-white-supremacy,-colonization-deconstructing verbal acrobatics.
i don't know exactly what you were thinking
but i know what i was: i thought you were stupid or didn't care or didn't understand me
and woe was me:
misunderstood with my nirvana, ani difranco, tupac shakur fuck the world blasting in my headphones/
THESE DAYS THOUGH:
a dyke like me
done outgrown those garments--
but don't get it twisted
my ass can still rock that anger like fury from the core of the earth raging with the intensity of mamaland ancestral lyrical libations like WHAT?!
i can still move a crowd
like my tongue can move my lover
(easily)
but sometimes
i just wanna be easy and shit--
converse with
instead of talk at/
i was never as hard as i seemed
i just used my words to let you know
how much i cared/
the anger in me surpassed by nothing
except my love for humanity