The phantom limb

I cut out my tongue, now I keep it in my pocket. For safekeeping. I ripped out my voice and I put it in a book, as storage. All that is left is a phantom tongue and voice that I use to lie with. I have become a dummy for the people, suppressing who I am, and lying to the people around me to preserve their smiles. “Are you still talking to him? Your father?” “No mom.” “Are you coming to see me soon?” “Yes dad.” “Are you having sex or burning inside?” “No church.” “Do you love us?” Of Course I love you all.” I have learned how to become a liar, a liar with the purest intentions. To preserve the spirit of those around me. Assume that everything I tell you is a lie, a facetious story to keep you all smiling. If you want the real truth then you have to listen to my music. 

 

War Zone

Question: “Are you still talking to him? Your father”

Answer: “No mom”

Truth: Yo whatup? It is Jerome

Sorry I can’t come to the phone 

Don’t call my house cuz i’m not home 

I stepped out to the War Zone 

This song War Zone i wrote back in like 2016-17 after my father was released from prison. He always wanted to reestablish his relationship with my sister and I. However my mother wouldn’t allow it. I understand why she did give him nineteen years of her life and in those years this was his third time in prison in spite of her trying to help him change his behavior. It wasn’t until after we left that he got the message and began to improve himself. When my mother found out that him and I were talking, she was livid and saw this as an act of betrayal on my part. I spent my nights in isolation and my days hearing the sobs of my mother crying to God because I didn’t want to choose between my parents. The chorus of War zone is supposed to represent a voicemail message left to my father by me. I used my middle in the song because my dad is the only person who calls me Jerome, allowing him to know that I am speaking directly to him. In this message I’m telling him that I can’t come to the phone anymore because I officially entered the “war zone”. Which is an internal space where I battle the two parts of me. In the verse is where I actually tell the truth stating, 

Tbh this is breaking my heart 

I never want to choose between my dad and my mom 

It get hard

It’s like every time i sit in my car 

I wanna drive back but i never make it that far.

Question: Are you coming to see me soon 

Answer: Yes dad 

Truth: In my heart, in my song, with my pen, I told him the truth. I’ve already said goodbye. 

One Sparrow

Question: “Are you having sex or buring on the inside?” 

Answer: “No, church”

Truth: Dealing in deceit 

Im tryna take you to the back room 

Thow on them sheets 

And get your body out that bathrobe 

Bendin on my knees

To feel you Tug all on my afro 

Hoes cant talk to me 

I got my eye all on one sparrow 

Yeeeaaa church, I don’t know how you would interpret this, but this is the type of music that I write. I would imagine the imagery of ripping my girls clothes off is a nono and would qualify as “burning”. The good news is that I’m only thinking about her, the bad news is I think about this and we are not married yet, I know. Maybe i’ll show you this song after i’m married, but for now I’m going to stay, “Dealing in deceit” because I know first hand where honesty gets you in this church. 

Intentions 

Question: “Do you love us?”

Answer: “Ofcourse”

Truth: My question is who is “us”?!?! My Mother? My Father? My Church? My Girlfriend? 

Do you like me? Or do you love me?

Wanna kiss me Or just hug me

Will you ride Until I die

I can’t say that I’m surprised

I question your intentions…

Sometimes I wonder if anyone would love me if I stated my opinion on things. I wonder if my “go with the flow” type of attitude is my biggest liability even though I paint it as my biggest asset. If I told my mother that I want a relationship with my father, would she hate me like she hates him? If I told my pops that I may never come back to visit him, will he continue to reach out to me? If I tell my church how much I burn inside, would my image be tarnished? If I asked my girlfriend to marry me now, would she say yes? If I told everyone that asked me if I loved them, that my love comes with questions, would they request that I stop loving them? 

 

Some of these questions I may never have the answer to because that requires me to express my truth. Unfortunately, the truth cannot be told with this phantom tongue. I even lied to you guys. The truth is, I had a tongue. I hid it in my pen after it was violently torn out of my mouth. I had a voice as well. I printed it on paper after it was beaten out of me. And they burned it. On my back yard in my grill. They burned my tongue and voice until it was reduced to ashes and to this day I have never recovered. So now I speak with what is left, a phantom limb smiling and conforming. So that my new music like “One Sparrow” and “Intentions” won’t end up like “War Zone”. Burned to a crisp and reduced to ashes by those who say they love me.