Dark Corner
(Written exclusively for Tupac Shakur from Angela)
The space around you seems close and closed
Breathing’s a luxury you used to know
As you close your eyes and inhale you believe
That the aroma that’s suffocating you belongs to me
It dances around you playing blind man’s bluff
As you chase the scent catching it’s tough
You know you’re not crazy, not insane you’re aware
But hidden in the darkest corner can you feel me? I’m there
I’m reaching out to you but you can’t see
I watch you day in and day out wishing you were free
To see me, to touch me, to talk for hours at a time
But for now the sight of you from my dark corner is fine
Can you feel me Tupac? Know that I’m near
Bring your light to that dark corner no need to fear
What I have for you will make your darkness all-light
Keep your eyes closed feeling my breath on your ear are you alright
You exhale so calmly as I embrace you from behind
You lean your head back so relaxed you’ve reclined
Breathing steady, mind calm, no disturbance in sight
In our dark corner, I rub your head, you fall asleep, and I bid you
good night.
For a few hours you can release the madness and be free
With your head on my chest my aroma you breathe
Pleasant scents lead to pleasant dreams, so real
I kiss your forehead and rise up as the sunlight breaks the seal
Your eyes open, slow movement, disoriented but relaxed
You look around, not quite sure feeling a bit perplexed
You ask yourself were you dreaming or was someone here last night
As you stare towards the dark corner and realize it’s light
Don’t worry Tupac darkness will come again
When you’ll receive another visit from your newfound friend
So enjoy your days no need to carry on like a mourner
And tonight I’ll meet you again in our dark corner
“He’s not going to get it,” I told my roommate.
“Ann, just mail it and wait.”
“I wonder what he’s doing right now.”
“Probably wondering where the hell all his mail is!” We both looked at each other and started laughing.
“Probably.”
“I’m still amazed that he’s writing,” Tanya said between bites of her lunch.
“Yes, it seemed crazy, but now it feels like I already know him I’m over the initial shock.”
“What makes it feel like that—the poetry or something?”
“Yeah, and the flow of the letters, the content. He can’t even explain to himself why he’s thinking of me. I don’t think it’s a game.”
“You know what’s funny?” I smirked.
“What?”
“He’s sensitive.”
“And?”
“Hello, it’s Tupac.”
“So . . . and . . . everybody has a sensitive side, Ann.”
“I know that, but looking at the television, you don’t see it.”
“He was sensitive in Poetic Justice,” she said with a wink, referring to the 1993 movie starring Janet Jackson.
“Tanya, that was acting. I’m serious. I just thought he was so hard and such a knucklehead. But my opinion of him is changing.”
“Yeah, I guess so. He still has hardness though.” She started smiling.
“Yes, he probably does, but this side is nice, too. It’s sexier than the roughneck. No, actually, it’s the combination of the two that’s sexy.”
Chapter 6
MISUNDERSTOOD
What’s up miss. How ya’ feeling? As 4 me it’s still “me Against the world” and they all out to do me but as always I’m Ready 4 whatever and my only fear of death iz coming back 2 this fucked up world reincarnated. What u been up 2? I still haven’t received a word back from you yet but if I don’t get a reply by the end of this week I’ll know there is nothing left to be said between us. But I got a hunch I’m just being impatient and I’ll get something any day. How’d you like my poems 2 u? They were written with u in mind so let a nigga know what u think. Shit is still dark and cloudy in this midst of this hell they call jail but with a little luck you’ll supply the sunshine 2 help a brotha maintain through this dramatic and unfortunate BULLSHIT. I won’t keep u long just stay strong. Until next time
The world is yours! Share with me!
Get At Me,
Tupac A Shakur (signed)
P.S. Where R My Beautiful Pictures?
IF HEAVEN HAS A GHETTO
IF ONLY YOU KNEW MY NATURE
THE ESSENCE OF WHO I AM
MY AMBITIONS R NOW LEGENDARY
BUT I AM A SIMPLE MAN
THE WORLD IS CONVINCED THEY KNOW ME
I’VE BEEN CAPTURED, SHOT AND FRAMED
THEY HAVE CRUCIFIED AND ANALYZED
SACRIFICED AND GAMED ME
BUT I STILL LOVE MY SISTER
GOD FORGIVE HER FOR HER SINS
I WONDER IF HEAVEN HAS A GHETTO
AND WILL THEY LET ME IN?
TOMMORROW IZ NOT PROMISED 2 US
TODAY IZ HARD ENOUGH
HELL AIN’T SHIT COMPARED TO LIFE
PROTECT ME GOD IT’Z ROUGH!
IF I SHOULD DIE B4 I WAKE
TELL THE YOUTH I CAME AND WENT
MY LAST WORDZ HERE WAZ FUCK THE WORLD
BE STRONG AND REPRESENT
MARCH 12, 1995
Tupac Shakur
4 ANGELA
WHISPERS
My words will sound like promises
When whispered in your ear
If I guaranteed you ecstasy
Tell me can u wait a year
Or give or take a coupla’ months
Cuz I don’t know for sure
When the time will come and I’m released
Standing outside your door
Awhile back I asked you 2 think of me
At night before you slept
I hope you kept your word 2 me
And the promise 2 me was kept
I can’t control what happens now
But patiently I wait
4 u 2 send your heart to me
Inside these prison gates
Let me be your little secret
No one else can know
I’m sending u a piece of me
Hold on and don’t let go
Suspense is what makes things worthwhile
Brings depth to fantasies
Madness from the lack of contact
Breeds insanity
Reflecting on the future night
Erratic thoughts appear
Sending whispers to your ear
Tupac A Shakur (signed)
STOLEN KISSES
Think of me b4 you close your eyes
Allow me inside your heart
Let me lay in bed beside u
And keep you company in the dark
Try 2 use your mind 2 imagine me
Getting caught up in the midst
Don’t be afraid if I get brave
Reach out and steal a kiss
Just 2 see how your kiss taste
Temptations of the flesh
And after that we’ll both lay back
And rest now chest to chest
By 2PAC 4 Angela
Hope it doesn’t offend u
Write me back soon!
Tupac
Tupac,
I am so frustrated that you have received only one of my letters. This doesn’t make any sense. Well, I hope that somebody’s letters are shortening your days. I want you to know that I truly appreciate your realness. It’s refreshing. Many guys walk around thinking their transparent game is tight. They
have only one goal that matters to them: locate, aim, and fire their little raggedy weapons, and damn the target after they’ve bombed it. I know I sound bitter, but I’m keeping it real, too. I feel we are about to embark on some other level. But to follow your words, “I hope my instincts about you are right if not then I’m playing myself . . . but life ain’t much without a little risk and danger.” I’ll get back to getting acquainted with you. Here are some breakdown questions for you: Do you think you have a typical Gemini personality? How is your temper? Are you moody? Do you snore? What is a sexy woman to you? What are the most important features of a woman? What are your views on relationships? In your relationships, do you tend to be more traditional or more unorthodox? How are you on the love thing? Are you a true Gemini in the sex department? Is sex physical or mental for you? What’s your favorite part of foreplay? How experimental are you? Where do you see yourself in the next five years?
It’s funny. I am a romantic at heart, and your poetry is touching every angle of it. It’s nice to see a man who is comfortable enough with himself to express his feelings in poetry or in general. I hope that it continues and that your inhibitions, if you have any, remain locked away, never to enter our pages or conversations. Hope will either kill you or make you stronger. Let’s go for stronger, shall we? Tell me what you’re thinking.
Forever,
Angela
I Wait
(Written exclusively for Tupac from Angela)
You say shit is still dark and cloudy in the midst of this hell they call jail
But with a little luck I’ll supply the sunshine you need to get you through when all else fails
I’ll help a brotha maintain through his dramatic and unfortunate bullshit
With elements of mental pleasures and visual stimuli as I see fit
You told me the world was mine and to share some with you
So I’m positioning my pen on a has-been piece of clean paper to distribute some to you
Are you feeling me through the lines that form letters and words put together as thoughts
Are you finding the spirit within the expressions [effects that] shouldn’t be fought
You asked for this from me on more than one occasion
I’m opening myself up to you no more need for persuasion
Buckle down, focus hard, release your mind, and embrace this gift
No worries, no lies, no disillusions, sit tight as we shift
To another level where our minds expose our souls
On the pages of each letter we begin to fill invisible holes
That led to our voids and needs giving a chance to escape with words
Freeing ourselves as we soar to the highest heights gliding like birds
Are you ready Tupac for all that you have asked
Speak up now and just know it’s not too late to pass
Time’s running out as I wait for your response and your key
To the expressions of your soul that have the power to set us both free
I wait . . .
“That’s beautiful, honey,” my mom said hesitantly.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Well, Angela, you don’t know anything about him and you’re talking about going to see him.”
“Mom, that’s what the letter writing is about. It’s not like I’m going tomorrow.”
“What I’ve heard about him doesn’t make him seem cool at all.”
“The media is the media. I’m making, and will make, my own judgments based on our letters. It could be fake on his part, but I’ll feel it out. You know me. Didn’t we already have this conversation?” I said, laughing.
“Yes, we did, and I do know you.”
“He’s harmless, Mom. Don’t worry,” I said, trying to reassure her. I was beginning to believe that.
“So now you’re going to be the one to save him from himself?”
“No. Only he can save himself from himself. We’re going to be friends. He’s going through difficult times, and I want to help, if I can. What’s the big deal?” There was a long pause on the other end of the phone.
“Well, I know you’re going to do what you want, so be careful.”
“Mom, he’s harmless.”
“Okay. So how was work?” We talked for over an hour, not bringing up Tupac again. As a mother, she had every right to worry, based on the depictions of him in the media.
There was something very relaxing about this situation, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He was hungry for something I had, and the fact that he was still writing confirmed it. He was filled with hope and impatience at receiving my mail. This was loud and clear in all of his letters. I was finished trying to figure out why he was still writing. This was an inevitable situation, and our lives were touching by design.
Chapter 7
A REQUEST
“Hello,” I said into the phone. I had been lounging in the tub, enjoying a bath and talking to my friend, when a second call interrupted.
“Hello, Ms. Lovely,” Tupac said with a smile in his voice.
A smile spread across my face from ear to ear, and my heart began to beat triple time.
“Tupac! Oh my God! They took you off punishment?” I joked. We both laughed.
“Yeah, they did, I guess. Watchu doin’, Ms.?” he asked. At that moment, I realized that I had forgotten my friend on the other line.
“Oh! Hey, hold on for one second, okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, and I clicked to the other line.
“Hey, I’ll call you back in a minute,” I told my friend.
“You still haven’t told me where you want to go eat,” he said.
“I have to call you back, or better yet, just come over in about thirty minutes and we’ll figure it out when you get here,” I said, frustrated. “Okay? Bye.” I clicked back over to Tupac.
“Hey,” I crooned.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing. Did you get my letters yet?”
“Nope. I thought you gave up on me. I was kinda callin’ to see if you had or if I was bein’ impatient,” he said.
“Impatient, Pac. I wouldn’t do that. I have no reason to give up. I’ve sent you like five or six letters with pictures and poetry. I sent you a card and. . .”
“You wrote me poetry?” he interrupted.
“Yeah!” I said. He started laughing. “What’s so funny?” I asked.
“You sound sexy when you’re frustrated,” he joked.
“Well, you should hear me when I’m mad. You’d swear you had just had phone sex!” We both laughed.
“It’s good to hear your voice. They just gave me my phone privileges back,” he said.
I found my way out of the tub and onto my bed. “If they took all of your stuff when they moved you and haven’t given it back to you yet, and you haven’t received any of my letters, how were you able to write me, let alone call me now?” I questioned, putting on lotion.
“I wrote your address and phone number on my arm,” he said, smiling. “I tried rubbing your letter on my clothes for the smell, but it didn’t work.” We both laughed.
“You’re silly,” I said, still laughing. “Oh, yeah, and I want to let you know that I love your poetry.”
“I’m glad you like it. There’s a lot more where that came from,” he assured.
“Good. It’s funny ’cause I’ve started looking forward to getting my mail now,” I said, putting on my jeans and shirt.
“Yeah, me too, but I’ve been fucked up because none of the ones I’m getting are from you.”
“Well, I hope they release my letters to you soon.”
“Me, too. I think about you so much. I can’t explain it. Does it scare you? The intenseness of my letters?” he asked, as I stared at my naked face in the mirror.
“No, I like it. It seems crazy that two weeks ago we didn’t know each other and now we’re on the phone with this electricity thing happening.”
“Yeah. So you do feel it, too?” he
asked.
“Oh, yeah, I feel it, and you’re right that it’s hard to explain. Maybe I knew you in a past life.”
“Right,” he said, laughing.
“My mom is leery of this whole thing. She’s afraid jor me with you,” I said.
“Why?” He sounded hurt. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you,” he said.
“I know, Boo. It’s just a mama thing. She wouldn’t be one if she wasn’t concerned. Don’t worry about it, though. It has no bearing on our thang,” I assured him.
“I’m glad. I wish I was there just to look at you,” he said quietly.
“That would be nice,” I responded, lying across my bed.
“Do you think we’ll make it until I get out? You know how Geminis are. We build up things, then lose interest after the curiosity dies,” he said.
“I know. Let’s just hope that more than curiosity grows here.”
“I guess we’ll just take it one letter at a time. Well, at least this situation will give me a chance to take my time with you,” he said.
“I can handle that. Do me a favor,” I said.
“What’s that?” he said.
“Will you write me a more personal letter? It doesn’t have to reveal any dark secrets, but I’d just like to know you more than on the surface,” I said.
“I can do that, Ms. Lovely. Well, I have to go now. Write me and send me more pictures.”
“I’m trying, but they won’t give ’em to you!”
“Please keep trying. At least now I know you didn’t give up on me,” he said softly.
“Just know that I never will,” I whispered.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to sleep tonight with you sounding like that,” he joked. We both laughed.