Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

28.2.18, 1.3.18

I imagine I am scared of love, I mean being loved, I see the way I question intentions the way I close myself off to the things that make me light, the entirety of my presence, which also means my identity, that I shut out and shut down at chances of being loved like I knew how it was going to end anyway, when you feel like you don’t deserve these kinds of things you become the rain, you tell this body to tread softly but no too soft, to be open but not too open, to never be your self too much because we don’t know them yet, too scared that our own will make them realize words like better, like you were never interested or too interested and it was too much, you were being too much, always this overwhelming love for them but not for who I am and wonder where that comes from because I don’t see this body as shame confidently speaking I see myself as so many intangibles they are not enough to help you understand me and I can’t understand myself sometimes, but when I try to find its words they are no where spoken, concealed in my actions as well as the detailed lining in my palms how I want them to see me, forget that I am not seeing myself, enough, I have dwelled on this word for as long as I can remember, I am enough, not for them, him, her but for me, I, am enough to swallow myself whole too, reminding this body that it is allowed to do both, overflow and contract is to feel so tenderly, that we don’t need words all the time, we are always free to be who we are we owe our body this much, divine, we will almost never be enough for others, however, we can always rescue love to be enough for ourselves first.

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Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

23.2.18 | be careful, you might

Heartbeat 1, and they give me what I want, can get lost in their line of sight and the way they walk, heartbeat 2, when funny is also charming you put two kinds of people together and they become whatever you want it to be, the mind plays, heartbeat 3, how each song is purposely rhymed and you wonder if they know it too, so lost in lyric you could swear it was about them they don’t know these secrets, heartbeat 4, you are known for stealing moments rather than kisses they are the kind of memories that only you have seen, you don’t disclose cryptic behavior very easily count them as a chance, heartbeat 5, could use their voice as my pulse and they would never know, the kind of soft chime that aches even without their presence, heartbeat 6, watch how quickly I smile at things that make no sense hidden, you make no sense remind me how gentle they can be too and maybe you can see it all, they are both a mystery and untouchable, heartbeat 7, the only thing I wait for and they know what it is too, can’t leave without it, please do not read this, heartbeat 8, they are not for consumption of your time remember what belongs to others is not yours do not play with things like trust and attraction, you know this feeling, heartbeat 9, you must choose it a secret, you can not have what is not yours, this is the heart and the minds favorite passion, heartbeat 10, you’re not lost you find heartbeats in them all some of which you can also hold find out its secrets, a pounding feeling been pulling on the heart this grip and intriguing the mind’s game of pure neurotic temptation, seduction is a strength best left to keep guessing.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

10.2.18
love-d.
Often, I wonder at love if I am enough for them, I look at myself and touch the mirror in front of me, I see how my heart aches for a soul that has not yet met the heart, the mind likes to tell the heart its secrets and not me, fears that we are both as hopelessly in love when we see him, there have been lovers but never loved, then I start to mention how often it feels to brake and buckle at the knees when I feel the heart brake this way, you have always sworn to be an addict to love, the mind fears you’re loving all the wrong people, your heart helps the mind explain things like how you felt when they kissed you, that their touch was real, their words, were not in hesitation and you could almost touch them too, the mind, will always side with you when you’re this kind of love because, it knows how much and honest you fall even when you’re not loved the same way, you see the mind talk to the heart and can’t help but want something this real, when you look at love the mind says, find it in yourself first and then in them baby girl, you’re needed in this body too, in yourself, is when you’re able to find loved too.- but I wonder what that looks like, wonder things like how long will I have to wait to see them, have we met already, can they find my soul instead then, I can’t help feel like my heart brake into two even halves this way, he sounds like love to me, why is it that he is not, what’s the difference between love and loved anyway, they are the same ache, the mind tells me no they are different, the heart slows down and I ask how, and it tells me, love, is what we receive when we’re loved, and now, I ache some more.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

24.1.18 |Past and present. Collateral Beauty.

I told her, she is also the reason behind this mind, said that as a child where do I even begin, all I did was throw glass at myself, when she wouldn’t listen to my heart I went into small spaces and tried to put it back together, there were memories, where I cried about not being unsterstood and when you’re this fragile even as a child you stop speaking about how you feel because you start thinking this, is the way everybody must be, when we look at our parents as children, we forget they are human, when we look at our parents as adults we forget they are human, must be sometype of ourselves, how we headache into a state of sanity, forget about the complicated and simple things in life is to exist and include yourself in your own oaisis of this world, is to refuse to believe how cruel we can also be to ourselves, love, time, death.
dear love,
I have watched you in so many people and things that sometimes I don’t know where to place you in myself, you have shown me so much. I met you in my friends now, and the first, was a boy when I was 15 and I still think about him when you escape my mouth.
dear time,
Why is it that we want to consume you and not get lost in you. I have bothered about it too, however, in my reality, you’re not the issue but the answer. I could drown into your syllables and watch the world fall into my arms too.
dear death,
The first time I met you I was 10, my body has not forgotten how you wanted to show your mother your feelings we, are no strange to you. You have given me a part of myself I think I lose each time and this is when we meet, and you, show me, love. I am still learning about your malaise.