Gag Order [Explicit]

I’m tired

I’m tired of writing rants
I’m tired of being that chick
I’m tired of having to verbally scalp every person I meet, but
Bullshit levels are one the rise
And much like Khartoum, despite my many years of experience, I am still unequipped for the flood

Actually, ‘equipped’ is the wrong choice of word
The correct word is:

I’m tired.

I’m tired of having to barricade myself against the barrage of every Tom, Dick and Ali with too much time
And not enough sense
To go spend it someplace else
No one asked for the two cents of worthless currency you call thoughts, so please stop making it rain petty pennies on us
Like the jineih [Sudanese currency], you make me fluctuate
Between serene and sab deen     [blasphemy]
(But I could never stoop that low)

So it leaves me between a rock and a heated retort that reads:

Keep my name out your dirty ass mouth.

Because I’m tired of disappointment
And I’m tired of your intentions
And I’m tired of that tired old sentence –

La la yakh, ma kan gasdi   [no, I didn’t mean it]
Inti fahma ghalat     [you misunderstood]
Ana aasif law..          [I’m sorry if]

I have no use for these conditional apologies
That have little to do with me
And everything to do with restoring your fraudulent image among your peers
Who failed to inform you when you were running your mouth
That I confront publicly
And I am not bound by the social propriety you hide behind
Cuz like I said
I’m tired
Of having to ask the same tired questions –

Lay?                      [why]
Hu fi shinu?         [what’s happening]
Da malu?             [what’s wrong with him]


But it’s not just you
It’s everybody
Who grew up to think that their pot of self worth is at the end of the rainbow of someone else’s demise
That being a good person means pointing out the flaws in others
That no matter how little you know about a person, your snap judgement is always right
Because some Tom, Dick or Ali told you some bullshit and that made it your business

Faraghum, bimlak    [their emptiness fills you up]
It gives you purpose
Angul khabarat min da lay dak and before you know it     [carry the news from this person to that]
Alyom intaha      [the day is over]
And you’ve survived another day away from your miserable existence
Wrap that massive cow pie up in the deceiving cloak of intention
And you’ve turned yourself into a civil servant!
A Good Samaritan
The fairy fucking godmother of judgement


So I guess I should thank you
For fueling this fire
And replenishing this pen
For giving me the inspiration to mold these words
Into whips and chains
Perhaps even
A noose to string you up by
Or at the very least
A gag to stuff hastily into that dirty ass mouth
To block those chattering teeth
Weigh down that tongue
Give you the pause you need so much

To stop

And think

Before you speak.

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