The Heart: A Love Story as Told Through Kendrick Lamar Lyrics

She go to work.  She go to school.  Her body smooth, no tattoos.  She's independent, she handles her business.  She believes in God, and no other religions.


I met him by happenstance.  I was new and he was seasoned, but stubbornness and quick wit held his attention.  We ignited over Section .80, the only two rapping "ADHD" in a pregame that I was much too young to be invited to.  Our fondness of Kendrick was personified by parties that would make me stay behind and mornings spent in tube socks and oversized sweatshirts rapping "HiiiPower."  Building pyramids writing our own hieroglyphs.  Becoming militant in love and in studies.  Cooped up in a stuffy room the size of a New York kitchen, him writing my raps for the first Black studies class I'd taken at our PWI.  Us both being bummed about the 'B+' it earned us.

I wanted so badly to be treated like fire and he was a pyromaniac.  Have you seen this?  A YouTube video played a Kendrick and Cole track with K. Dot reciting lyrics in a store window in front of a small crowd.  Where you at and do you have Geico?  I need insurance that you can sex me the best.  And for years he did.  We used to fuck and watch the day go by, hasta luego.


And then days went by.  He went away and no longer were the parties that led to mornings that lead to listening sessions as interludes to intercourse.  I wonder if you ever knew you was a role model to me first?  He was the same focused that caught my attention initially.   Oh what a cold world for a broke nigga, it's bitter.  I never pressed him because I, too, knew what it was like to grow up without.  I also had dreams of my own.  O.verly D.edicated.  After all, a dollar might turn to a million and we all rich.  


But the betrayal of learning he'd went to a GKMC concert without me felt like a cheater's sin and was where he had me fucked up.  Of course, he'd make his way back to make sure he was there for my first time.  The most selfish person I'd ever met.  How timely it was of Dot to open with "Westside, Right on Time," a sample of The Sylvers' "How Love Hurts."  Pillars of joy can be found through the thought of you.  I'll be troubled, and bustled, and scorned for your love.  

I'd cut him off to grow closer.  Consequently, I'd come home to packages filled with the soundtrack of our love— vinyls and the To Pimp a Butterfly pillow he'd send to make up for any indiscretions.  In part, to remind me of him each night I'd lay my head down but also as a way to leave his mark for any uninvited guests.  The adorable type of controlling I'd once loved before I faded to black.   And then he'd weasel his way back into my tiny heart.  We were living in a premature place.  We both knew it had nothing to do with anyone else. Be the last one out to get this dough?  No way.  Love one of them bucked-headed hoes? No way.  (See also: Head is the answer.  Head is the future.)

But the thick of it became too much.

Where are you going?  We should be growing, now... "You know I can't save you from burning buildings anymore?" read the text that interrupted my day.  "I'm moving.  And when I call you, you'll be 3 hours ahead.  I'm not a flight away anymore.  When I'm leaving the office at midnight, it will be 3am your time."   He was always far, so I was confused about the message he'd attempted to convey.  I was always much better with words.  But my mother always said, "When men tell you something, take heed."  I can feel your energy from two planets away.  I went silent.  Dated around.  Prayed for him everyday.  Because he wasn't raised like I was raised.   And because spirituality isn't progressive enough for him.  And because Kendrick said that Heaven's unfair.  If there was only room for 144 people, I would have given up my spot for you.


And even if we seem to separate, eventually it'll come to pass and she'll need me.

Toi Bly