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Medium Sized Ancestors

Writer's picture: RoseRose

Clairvoyant, psychic, or medium

Guiding the lost with wisdom free of tedium

But only the heart's purity grants you access

And these little buggers are playful causing no distress

They crack a joke with a mischievous grin

Their sense of humor is what pulls me right in


I am now here to advocate for the children

Since I was a child the veil was really thin

Playing pretend with ghosts I swear were near

People I spoke to because I saw them clear

So natural and normal I thought we all could do it

As I got older I realized it was only me that was going through it

When I was a child I thought we all could see

Who was standing right in front of me

But the truth is now I just sound crazy

Souls show me a place where they reside

Guiding me through realms where they glide

In my dreams they speak to me telepathically

But because I see it I guess I'm just crazy

Still to this day my eyes never lost the spark

I am allowed to speak for those who live in the "dark"

Just so you know they read your hearts intention

And they absolutely do not just let anybody in

So when you think your connection is a success

Your heart’s purity is the only thing granting you access.


You get angry when you think it's sacred

I hold the keys because they belong to me, the dead

The ones you’ve forgotten, the ones you’ve misled

Their voices rise and in them I am led

I hold the keys for the past never sleeps

And through me their secrets rise from the deep

When they introduce themselves to me

You all claim I speak blasphemy

We’re bound by more than blood or name

A connection deeper than any earthly claim

In the spirit world where souls intertwine

Your ancestors and mine share the same line.


My own family never believed

The messages I would receive

And that's the beauty of my design

Like God knew the parents I was born to weren't mine

And I never theirs

Yet they cling to the story of a man

Nailed to a cross persecuted by the community

But they can't see their own irony

That what was done to him is happening to me

I have 2 t's in my name maybe I've done this once before

But the one controlling my story now

Is the Babylonian whore

As she's wearing my face

Acting as me to bring shame and disgrace

You all think the profiles were me

She wove the web so insidiously

So when I step back outside

You all think who I really am is a lie


I speak details you know are true

But you think they belong to only you

How did I know that?

Well if you pay me $80 we can sit and have a chat

Just fucking kidding

I don't disrespect the dead like that

They show me their sacred space

I honor their Exalted place

By speaking without restriction the truth

That they have had to hide since their own youth

So when you wonder how I know the names

Or the pain that hides behind the flames

It’s not a gift but a channel in me

A space where voices long trapped can be free

It's not a gift but my own soul inside

A place where the past no longer hides


Hey so Aunt Carol that I never knew

She got a message for you

With a stunt double boyfriend

Stuck in the closet lesbian

But you bitches cry she's your best friend

and sister to you that's ever been

But not one of you spoke the truth

Supported what she was going through

We both have coffee in the morning but it's not Mary Lou

Captain Morgan never really mattered to you

But you hold on to her Tarot cards

As if they hold the keys to all your scars

But when its me holding them as she shows me the way

You go on a witch hunt, pushing her and my own truth away

But you never listened once to what I had to say


An Uncle James

I only knew his name

Lost his life the month after in the world I came

The one who asks for an Eskimo kiss and on the cheek one more

Murdoered because of the Babylonian whore


You never know who’s in the flesh suit

An uncle could be my lover

A sister could be my brother

In another life we heal the scars done by the cruelest mother

A brother could be my father

A father could be my ever after

A mother could be my friend

A cousin could be my end

An aunt could be my twin

The roles we play where do they begin?


A doppelganger could wear my face,

So that you and I can never share the same space

Even though our hearts both align

And I am yours as you are mine

But it never seems to be the right time

The doppelganger keeps crossing the line

Stealing moments meant for me and you

A mirror image, but it’s not true


People put big names on an altar

Disrespecting the dead and what they stand for

The dead have confronted their own behavior

They roll their eyes when you seek them as a savior

The dead don’t need your tears or your hollow praise

They need you to rise and to change your own ways

So you pray to an altar

And what about the children they falter?

You think the grieving mother and father

Don't speak for the lost son and the daughter?


You call upon the angels

Thinking they guard the skies

When they want to speak the truth about the history

You speak over their pain and say nothing but lies.

They listen to your voice speaking the past you erase

As their real stories of struggle you replace


Crying self righteous tears

Claiming they mattered to you

When the truth is you never really knew

You thought dead was dead

Just an end in the ground

But their legacy lingers

Still echoing around

You claim to honor but it’s all just a show

Pretending to care for what you never chose to know


Our souls set in stone we wear new skins

Rewriting the stories where old pain begins

What we thought was family, blood and bone

Is just energy woven between the threads we've sewn

The roles we played, the names we knew

They fade away after death when the truth shines through

For in the end we’re all just searching to mend

Healing together as broken souls transcend

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