Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

is it? | 3.4.20

Looking in him, listening to his voice is a calm type serenity, he is so much I missed, so much I love, when you find a soul that finds into ways about from your deepest parts of your heart you remember why you chose to love him the way deserved, devoured, when he turns into the sky you’re an oasis filling silver sky, makes you laugh at sweet words said, gestures made to be remembered at all my sweetest and darkest affections carried, ocean passion made for each time he gives me flowers in reminder of love and never hope, his eyes are as soft as they are fire, he loves to talk and I love to watch him evolve this way too, I find his words soothing, he tells me he loves me for who I am and I escape into myself some more, he helps me find release in places I have kept hidden from myself, says them out loud for me to hear, for me to listen, likes to tell me he loves me reminds me about his scent, I am no fast feeling he says I am here to stay with him until passing, I want to tell him together we’re all we need, but I hold my voice, I become scared of the very thing I have dreamed about, I am not always this scarce to be loved, but I am scarce to love harder, we get told that this much time is love, forget time is an illusion faded into us right before our eyes, and so often we look for parts of past flames into present partners, we tell our freedom this is not who has dreamed this hard to be kept this silent, your love has always been unpredictable, is has always been free, let it flow where it will, let the weeds find its release here too, we are Spring in Late November do not play with your own heart dear fire child.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

The decade. | 3.4.20

Asleep 10 years and it feels like a lot, being asked what will become of you in a time span unknown to yourself is not how you are present, being taught you’re to survive all yourself is not a way of life, we self destruct when we are told we can not help ourselves, told we have to ask for it, what we hear is weak, is do not bother me, is be quiet with your pain, silence is resistance to speak outside of mirrors, razor blade knifes formed into powerful powerless minds, we are not weak, we are still learning to live with all this surfacing blood, want to take her breath away and put her to sleep in peace, she is water and fire the most, only you can silence her optimized thoughts, she has tried, she is up in smoke about all her ocean and in drought about all her flames, her hopes are not here, she has purposely left flowers to weed her garden, she has let the wind hoist into the clouds, there is nothing whimsical here, here you feel everything, you carry yourself into the seasons changed year after year, here we who made you like that, in this life, right here, where I stand right now in truth worthy maybes, I remind myself I could be the best thing that has ever happened to my soul. And my soul reminds me it has always been the other way around. _in this path we do not cower at the sights unseen, we make space for all its chaos and at ease our surroundings, here she is everything you every dreamed of and so much more you will not know if you’re drowning of being revived. The sub conscious of our existence is our playful twins, and you..

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

6.3.20 | Hello You.

I gave myself a name other than my own, I always warn I am hard to love into connections that attampt to get close out of good nature, I distance us from the good things so I am only left with what feels the most familiar, vulnerability is uncomfortable things that tare at our soul have been my norm, me bleeding from the inside is my normal, I like that part about us, that we turn pain into care, that failures are how we learnt to love, though when my body gets numb from all the hurt she is forced to look for Spring, her fire in her is her beloved, she only knows the comfort of solitude because growing up kin was not always pleasent, was not what love looked like, home was a second world and peace was a drive away, she learnt fear and grew wings in her peace, her most magical nights are spent watching the night sky become her best friend along side her black cat, we don’t always get what we want in life and I am still learning to live with the fact that love will continue to mesmerize both of my realities but I think thats just another thing I can live with.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

4.3.20 | cut me loose.

I still wish we watched our words, we can’t always make sense of how we mean often how we honestly feel though we should at least be careful of how we choose to love, when we meet hearts that break us we are knowing of what it feels to walk away from hurt connections, often our mind will give us a path our heart will struggle to accept it but our body will help us lead the way, I say I haven’t always been this new to love but I must admit my care for it is changing with every heart I met, we get more chances to know about feelings that are still nameless or ache to say out loud and sometimes it feels like you could be the only person waiting for night to fall so you don’t have to leave this sky you have built safe into your home, -My body asks me, where have you been lately? I was worried you forgot about your home here, how you are allowed to take up all the space you want here, we don’t mind the outward vacations we just miss the quality time, I can’t keep pretending even after all these lighthouses, I sigh, sit down close, close my eyes and tell her, yea I know, thank you.