Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

I gentley pick up the rest of what my depression has left of my body off my bedroom floor and tuck her into bed, I’ve been writing in code as long as I can remember for those who know the conversation, for those who are blessed with a mind that doesn’t know how to quieten down for themselves but for others, we know so well how the body likes to talk in cryptic behaviour, to see who is worth it, this is a silent prayer to the rain and to beloved kin, there are no words when I mumble these two loves, depression’s favourite 5 letter word each time, sorry, I’m the fire child with rain tendencies scared hiding from giving voice the things that still make me feel like I could sleep forever, how else are we allowed to communicate when we get lost in our body this way, when I find the fewer words to confront kin it becomes more than a one way conversation, in my mind I say, when I give up my pride to talk about a healing state I mean I am also giving me time, when I breathe in and out this way I am learning what it means to be myself and not my illness, when I lose touch of the the world around me and people it means I am in desperate need of myself so I will disappear into my own galaxy, sorry, I am learning not to apologise for my healing sorry, when I come back to you, I will not want to relive the trouma, in advance I want you to know, I am here, I see you, I am healing, self has been in need of my three super powers and you’re my last destiny.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

I had someone who asked me to bare my truth for them in the south, so I read them my poetry, they listened, looked at me and asked why my words feel so sad, I could cry the amount of fight I give my narrative isn’t always this depressing I proclaim my innocence feeling my voice disappear at the very pit of my throat how was I meant to tell a starnger these kinds of truths are hidden meanings of how I survive, I’ve always been scared away from bad first impressions and how we first show love physically, my kin tell me biography of love, I tell them, this is exactly how it should be held and we fall in love all over again, see, when the heart is loved backwords it catches up clearly to the mind, gestrures and glances are not so overseen as heartbeats may think, we women of both rain and fire are a parade of intuition you will attempt to ghost wrongs can’t help put in check the smoke that has been done, cupid can have this cloute too, we women are blessed with sight that could split you two even halfs of each attempt you chose I gave you a chance, my silence for the truth, your silence for my freedom how does it feel you choose your sugar cane once, twice dare three times, a vision has never been such a clear momentum we’re soft worriors survivours of heartbeats when we become sweet for you enough to cavity us both, be careful with her boasting crown, she can very quickly choose you not even a memory, forgotten, like you did not exist in her path to begin there are no more suicides left in vain of your name, let this be truth for loyalty you never really wanted her you chasing sight and whip lashed necks of other crowns while she was searching for your hand, she was right there, take note, just because I do not speak everything I see, how careless, you’ve lost to a silent mind

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

asleep.

What happens to the body when you’re emotionally invested in yourself, you’re a sleep walking wake from assumption of how this mentality operates and its been years now who’s counting anymore, I think about ways to brutally grow, then I overthink its outcome, always, something that feels like its right, a place for your heart your mind to rest sometimes, caught sloppy on high ceilings in so much of what is real and what isn’t, this is not to confess that you’ve lost touch of reality, it is to assure you that you have been able to do both, I used to think I only had one touch but I’m quickly realizing all of these self proclaimed one gift is a false limitation, my lack of creativity has been circling my inner universe its exhausting, this is where affirmations are made, spending time with your mental is a portal to an impatient part of not only who you are but what you could become, self-teaching to understand why your heart feels so strongly about love and who you dare let close is a crucial act of selflessness, admitting to your eyes that what you saw was real and listening to its truth because we live in a world where our eyes are not always seen as the truth or the norm so we’ve been taught to see no evil, my body is heavier than I have given it reason, sleepless nights that feel the warmth of the sun rising is both a beautiful capture and an exhausting reality is both a blessing and a demise, I feel so strongly about things that I could cry all the waters, its exactly as dramatic as it sounds I wouldn’t lie about with my bodies worth, there is always flames brewing here, this is just one way to hero my chaos