Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

8.2.19 | Remix

Parts of me are still afraid we put on faces for not only the world but ourselves sometimes, we know how the mind aches when we excuse it out of our body this way and let the heart take over sometimes the questions are more than the answers and they answer themselves you’re not a presence here you’re are a guest in your own body, the unfamiliar way we treat ourselves trying to heal ourselves is so funny sometimes if you cannot see the humour in this will you be judged about your healing too, open mind with open spaces are both knowledge and a dream we want both for the taking we can not survive without the other parts of ourselves it is a discomfort that we have forgiven and moved onto the next traumer we are our own remedy now, the last the best they will say, I let some step foot into this home they disrespected my eyes and my mouth said nothing my mind was so loud they have all taught me things about myself that I have been holding back and fought for other homes, I don’t speak my truth all the time only when I can see misguidance in their eyes, I familiarize myself with their mind with how they speak and think about their home, your body is treasured force and shield it is always more than we bargained for which is how we say we are not sure or we don’t understand how these things have become to us, your body doesn’t make mistakes it creates unique lessons for everyone at home to learn and grow from, where else do you think knowledge is power also came from, think about it a littler harder, ask yourself a lot more questions this is your home after all, if you can not be your truest self here what else do we all really expect, where else can you really go, who else can you really trust, we’re our best and worst authority of love right.

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Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

30.01.19 | My wish.

A conversation with my father and he is telling me flossy words I wished I heard when I was listening to his, wondering if this was the same care he would give the other half of his heart, he always tells me comfort and pillow talks of its okay wished he wishes he could do things differently with us and I want to ask him how it feels to have half of his heart, wishing he praised her the same way he praises god, we’re from two different generations and I wonder how he got to being here, want to see where all this came from, he talks in his own reality and I am still left with questions of where half his heart is left in him, is he okay leaving that kind of warmth this way, where would he ran to, he tells me mental health is important because he found me still up the top of his house one day, I remember it so well since then I wonder whether he knows it is two and not only one, 10 grams away from unstable stability, the children in his life are in half and his blood line is nowhere in this house but in half, I wonder what he dwells on, he talks about death so often I can feel the way he repeats it, this is not the first or last time, I know what it feels like to repeat death into your being so it becomes a familiar taste around here, wonder about his lost and found demons so in half about these waters, the fire in me is blazing bright blue while all the waters try to calm me from the outside, Im not sure if this is the right way to go about it but I let it happen anyway, a panic hits and I am in half most days, wondering what my whole see’s me as, I am half fire half water, whole, where thoughts go when they are misplaced in its home too, my truth is a natural disaster unsafe and serenity, a contradiction of human kind, I take my shot of Kenya coffee close my eyes and whisper mantra’s in the name of love and think, maybe its not so bad here, being a misfit this way too.

Entry #13: I strongly believe in humanity and self. Do you?

I’ve been thinking about how we see words instead of the world, people ask me about myself like I’m meant to have all the answers however I haven’t met anyone who has. I honestly believe life is about learning and growing forever, and I love that feeling the most.

It gives off an achievement of assumptions that you will know, and there’s an almost clear intuition. We go the rest of our lives trying to search for things that someone tells us we can’t find or worse ourselves, we bounce off idea’s that others have cast spells into us because they haven’t been brave enough and I don’t see this as a weakness just to be clear I see this almost as a plea, how often do we want to be saved by ourselves and subconsciously ask others to save us or even better ask our body, sometimes all we need is to be polite and honest when we’re talking about ourselves to someone or even better when we are talking to ourselves.

So much is already left into the infinite galaxies we are still trying to see life to almost decide, and yet I wonder why is it that sometimes we don’t choose to do something as beautiful as to look in the mirror once in a while, gestures to your body in the form of gratitude are as rewarding as healing. Remember this, when you’re feeling like you’re hopeless into this world, into this body, give yourself a break. Celebrate the littlest dreams, and be your most amazing self for you and your body.

There is so much we are capable of if we treat our body the we would like to be treated, and this is a fact.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Unfinished sanity.

An obituary, a proclaiming of myself its desires and teeth, over spilled secrets to the body we are the careless mischievous twins our childhood warned us about, this soul has been hidden too long, kept sacred sake from the mad hatter of this world didn’t see all the chaotic mismatched tones, our reflection has been undone, kissed away broken, I have allowed the attempted red carpet stained skin blushed shy of my blood welcomed love back into this being first, when you teach your body how to brake and rise each time you’re forced into your own chaos and to remember this healing, you’re rise from it all, a careful dreamer with black magic, kink royalty of unlearning and learning the mind, it has always been you and the mind, never the other way around, becoming is not new you’re the calm in it all heard time and time again over all the doubtful noise, your capacity was never the enemy, we glory preceptor to exist in this body together, harmonies our animate, create art from its process how many more can hear this type of healing too, we are the unlearned insomniacs with life lines that challenge realities, what it means to be this light and to bring us to the red table too, our fight been called down upon too long, those who underestimate the anarchy of the mind have not seen its true form, don’t know the strength it takes to at ease this mind when bad days become uncontrollably unpredictable and after your blood, we are the survivors of the past 27’s, the melodramatic panic manics that don’t know sleep, creativity rise wake with the sun and dawn the moon, we’re in constant rotation of solutions and impossible possibles there are no boundaries to this chaotic healing, when love, is attached to its meaning, we’re the cliché unstoppable, how many more rise to this reality and are able to call self survive of this captive psyche.

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

These nights I find my sleep has not changed, my problem has always been the difference between my remedy telling me that it could be my personality and not this illness, sometimes I get confused, I remember my heart broke somewhere between your personality and this illness I can’t remember which part took its own life first, I’m kept awake by the problems with myself that I can not seem to fix that stay with my breath and follow me into bad decisions and lost words that are careless and still know how to break even when they come from kin, you can still taste salt, you forgot why you thought elsewhere in the first place, these things just come out you’re looking for help and guidance most a mouth to band-aid them too, sometimes its so hard to stay soft when you’re this ill and lost, there is no beginning or end, it’s a mix up, a false habit you’re trying to erase out of your system these decisions are still plaguing the body and you’re trying to find the correct outlets but your body just will not survive so you give it what it wants even though you know it will hurt you, you become this light that trusts so tirelessly when you see a temptation a way out, and after all this, you’re are left with its echoing words of what you keep telling this body over and over again, what does self-respect look like when you’re ill and stop being 10g away, how do you get your super powers back when you’re watching a wreckage smoke from the inside, how do you save yourself, what does that look like from inside the burning building, you’re a metaphor for yourself how you excuse these decisions, swear you never meant to hurt the body this way, swear you will not do it again but where does it end where do you stop, where does this kind of harm end for you, have you given up, if not what now, what’s next for a girl who has lived until 23, writes from her bedroom window, cries her own love song, doesn’t change her mistakes, and is trying to survive her mind, what happens now, how does she not give up-. What is your answer? What would you tell her?

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

8.10.18 | Fall.

Sky in, a type of kin that will make even you beg for more, whispers of favourites turn the flame on, I let the words curve into my mouth this way, what I’m trying to say is still unfinished and coded, it sounds a lot like unspoken verbs, pronoun of this is the heart, the adjective is the way the mind is feeling but too scared of its truth only, we have never done things this way before, our words are backwards and on purpose, how do we make sense of all this heat, what happens when both passion and tension sweeten the tongue, how do we tame ourselves out of these flames, so carefully careless we could set everything on fire the way we like this feeling to be this talented, watch the way it has taken over a body that shares the words care and love with self, when she lets you in be carefully honest with everything, she is both blind and bright in the same notion.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

A home, been paying attention to the way you respond to my lessons, there is no type that have made it this far, I tell my kin to be careful with the way they swallow my words even I am learning, we talk about love and she tells me this is the first time, I know how she must be feeling, when you come this close you become a puddle of clichés, a mirrored glass of what you want to see even if it must mean the half untruths, love does this, she is high off his scent and I can see his spells lovesick out her mouth this way, talks about how unreal this must be, and I watch her happy like it were the night sky filled with moonlight, she asks me what to do with her heart and I tell her to be strong, love is a beautiful ache and if you choose to love, you must also be ready for its infinite charm, and she asks me, what happens, when heartbeat loves two people distance is a battle, and love is bitter sweet war, I fear for her heart, she asks again, what does it mean for love then, I look at her, she sinks into the car seat, the sky chimes rain down on the car as she turns the heater back on, I sink into my seat watching the rain, and I say nothing.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

I am so good at convincing my body about others, when my heart isn’t so invested my mind is this picture map of unsolved people and how it is they will benefit my breath, I find my mind working in myths, myths that are classified unready for this world open to new problems and continually stuttering at love, I don’t have strict titles of heartstrings how they choice and love things like it were their breath too, I am madly in love with love, which is why I feel so bound to the word, why I speak so strongly in and out of its presence you cannot implode on my circumference around its complexities and tell me anything about its wrongs, love has an ambiguous ambiance circling its truth which is why its so simply silly easy to get lost in its clasp, become beastly in its eyes when they flaw, never not this love too, I care in doses of extreme spells when it comes to heartbeats I am an unhealthy addict even if it means my own breath too.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

6.6.18 \ the L word

I am witness that nothing can prepare to compare when you kiss someone who has learnt to steal your heart charmingly, hands that notice the hiding spaces you quiet down next to them, breathe at the same time to open your world for the L word with your fingertips reaching into their heart and mind, guide them carefully, warn them this wonderland utpoia has been a paralysis of heaven even without their love first, they are the first to be welcomed, you warn them a second time reminding them how this body is selfish when it comes to my love so you tightly hold their hand saying be careful, tell them to speak in trailingual, flowers, speak in the rain and dreams, your secrets are my secrets too now, answer, I have fated us both, choose a kingdom, you kiss them gentley whispering, I’ll be waiting for you right here, so come to find me