???

My ghetto butter flies into the 

prolonged escape into the unholy dimension, 

A rift in a pocket of time, 

its fabric eschewed my the complexities of vividry 

A translucent disillusionment uniformed to the sobriety of wonder 

Searching for the next fullest moon; 

a sage of fulfilment, my internal clock resets once more 

Every tick of every tocking minute I’m reminded of my coalesced existence 

A bitter pill to swallow of being the black sheep to kin 

  Endeavored by magic but enamored by opinion 

The aesthetic galores held close like a newfound bond 

I’m the wilted paper rose folded anew 

And when you hear me crinkle, know that you have not won, yet

I am my mothers son and my fathers daughter 

Cocked back like like the revolution of a switchblade hack 

I am the bee of dove, the butterfly of the flower 

The flame to your ashes, and the water to your shower 

Unravel me and see thee 

An everlasting aria of hope 

One sound and two soaps 

A jaded sapphire, crystallized then shattered 

Fractured then healed, opened and unraveled,

 Shot in Achilles’ Heel 

I am the link of my zelda; the peach of my Mario 

Vulnerability is my sacred strength; 

The male to female the female to male:

I am the shapeshifter of the game 

The Fool in disguise 

A masquerading persona 

Waiting inevitably to be surmised 

A pillar that remains broken

In remembrance of red  

Roses so ever lovely as such 

Everything I am is gracefully 

Unapologetic. 

About Imani Johnson

Hello ! My name is Imani Johnson @imani.nani ! I am a young uprising artist who hopes to revolutionize marginalized voices through my work; I study various forms of art such as poetry, film and photography to better accomplish this goal. I believe It’s essential that there is art to express the purest soul inside of all of us. I hope to one day become a filmmaker to create cultural pieces of transformative beings to inspire fellow artists of all margins and backgrounds <3