Hi my name is April I'm usually an over sharer But I don't know what happened today Like I would have told You my whole life story And then your performance You, Mr Fafanyo The Pryme I'm hearing bars bars bars norr trauma My chest, I felt it in my chest I was like hmm, oh okay I see But it was a really good time I'm glad I came Dear April You said you heard bars And then suddenly, trauma Like you were swaying to the rhythm And ground beneath you just fell out I get that Because every time I speak I'm mixing poison with honey Wrapping my pain in poetry Like icing on a bitter pill Making it sweet enough to swallow So it doesn't get stuck in my throay And choke me See, one way or another We all have to digest this trauma Childhood scars don't just fade They linger Sinking deep in our bones Making us heavy Pulling us down Like anchors in still waters But if we don't process If we don't purge We rot from the inside out I remember this one time My heart was shattered into pieces I thought I could die from it But instead, I wrote Packaged the pain up real pretty Called it art And people clapped, they cheered Like I'd done something great But they didn't know Those pieces in my "Sessions with Self" Were written with tears That every word cut me open Before it healed me And now? I'm not afraid of being vulnerable Art has got this way of serenading me Taking me somewhere Where I can't hold back anymore It's like I'm hypnotized Pouring out the darkness So I don't drown in it And April, sometimes Everyone around me Thinks I've made it They see something great But inside I feel like a failure Like I'm watching the world pass me by And all I do is compare I tell them to trust their journey To believe But the truth is I'm more messed up Than the people I preach to I need the words I speak more than they do The only way I listen to myself Is through creating So I hope I pray they listen close If they do They'll hear the cracks in my voice The wounds in my verses That's the real me Bleeding through So yeah, April You were right I wrap my trauma in bars Because it's the only way I can make it palatable I need to know the people who listen Because the more they know me The more I want to return the favour So next time you hear me Don't be a stranger Reach out Say hi I'm still here Healing Spitting my scars So I don't drown in them Dear April Let me not overthink First things first I'm shy, Oh my days You know, like You can have a conversation with someone Even creatives And you won't think anything Of what you said to them And then they'll take it And then they would turn It into something In some cases you can get trauma And in some cases you get art I think this is one Of the few times where like It manifested as art instead So I'm really glad That this piece exists And I'm glad That I could be a part of it It's left with you know My own writing Cos I suck at that but yeah