Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

28.5.19 | Mine.

Who am I, I am someone that deeply holds my voice close to my amour, I am the kind of depression that allows others holds their hand and whispers to them that vulnerability is important, who you are is important, explain we are so much into a world that does not care about things they can not touch, that you can not bleed enough for them, I am someone who will give you love letters that help satisfy your soul first, I believe in our capability, I want to reach into your mind so you know what humility looks like, touch your heart with my eyes when you tell me what has been keeping you alive today, my view of this world is the most balance, it is both a growth a reality of two outcomes of myself and who I am becoming, I’ve held conversation about this breath enough, space in and out of mind for who I am first then you, I am the kind of breath and fire and soft and watching people make choices, watching who I am becoming make choices, humanity is both list-full and limitless, when I brake my bones for you you will know, when I call you it might be 10 years down this growth, I watch the way we speak, my home, my curiosities are somewhere along side impulsive and intensity, I am one or the other never both, to co exist is to understand and make room for the person who is the truest self first, if I do not learn from who I was I would never be who I am becoming first, -don’t completely lose yourself into things and people, lose yourself completely enough to evolve on to the next glory/ prayer/ gratitude/ self. -what/who will you choose to become.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Burning Spring Love. (fell from the sky.) | 15.5.19

hey love, kiss me, tell me you can bring down the sky for me, tell me the stars ain’t nothing compared the way I make you feel like without this love there is no other matched to what I am with you. tell me how you found us, tell me all your hidden secrets, tell me you’ll listen to my silence even when its raining, tell me how much you love spring, the way it leaves us to love harder, how talks like this are the best kind of kink, I remember when you asked me what passion was to you, how you could taste it near my lips, how close we are to sparking these flames, nothing like spring in late November, write me away, use your words, tell your fingers to stop misbehaving next to flames this bright, tell me again how you can not leave my burning spring, how you’re not afraid to lose me, how we ache apart enough to close any lost words, sometimes we may burn buildings and ask the spring to leave, the way you understand how I love, how my hands are the place you feel the safest, how my voice is reason for it all, learn me more of your scars, tell me how you keep that voice, how you love so hard, we are both this way, both melting into each other, you don’t agree with me, we fight about how our voices both hold our love, how they cradle something this inherited, how we wind each other up, how we love to hear our love out loud, there’s nothing more dangerous than love.