Explore 4: Crip theory- a response to "Stones in my pocket, stones in my heart"

Stones in my pocket

Remind me of church

Of all of those years 

Spent begging for forgiveness

Crying to the heavens

And the silence the resounded

Through the pews 

In response

Stones in my pocket

Remind me of high school

Of the boy who made me his

Devoured my body whole

Until I had nothing left to offer

Drained my cup

And left me high and dry 

Stones in my pocket 

Remind me of that job

Of a summer filled with resent

Managers telling me to calm down

That the way he spoke 

Was how he should speak to girls at the bar

Not at work

But at least he kept the dishes clean

But stones in my pocket 

Can only weigh me down

Stones in my heart

Will surely turn my blood cold

So instead they rest in my palms

Warm with rage

I throw them at all the glass ceilings I can find