Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

14.06.17 | love song (bind me to you..need)

“..what does the body do when it has found a way to solve heart beats, it doesn’t know how to catch this feeling and learn to let it go so easily, this feeling, has found a way to stay in this body, can’t call it uninvited, how do you do that, make it feel like you’re the only one who can make it feel like this body needs, you, when you control do you mean the way the mind has also fallen-, linger, no, stay here longer, I am slowly binding my words to match yours instead of losing them in your eyes I want to lose them somewhere along the same intensity of what you love, somewhere permanent, I want you to need this entirety.”

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

8.6.17 | 9.6.17. Dreaming Fable (you’re..)

I mime fables that have been seen of this salem, silent in the dark, that sit with the night sky and watch the stars fill its vacancy, a distilled memoir, that glimmers awakened dreams, it has never been about forgetting how to love, but it has always wished on the stars enough to make it real, to never forget that this kind of magic is crafted into all our bodies and we are left to spell it back once it has finished manifesting into our souls long enough to breathe its wild back to love, a spell bound feeling, that is the mirrored shooting star reality of our distilled dreams

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

28.5.17 – 29.5.17
Note to self: love can lie

Note to self, doesn’t care, only hears voices that speak with dipped in poison split tongues, you were warned, by body, eyes, narration marathons in the form of false actions, disillusioned, told you to watch out for mishaps in the blank spaces that don’t match motion, too loud, what we’re you looking at, looking for, imagine the strength is has taken for body to watch the heart break at so many double edged knifes, the body spoke with shards of glass tip pointed to the heart wept and called the heart a coward for not letting go of what will hurt this body reminding the heart that it beats to unseen too often blurred lines and broken truths, weak, the body begged to not be taken for granted too harshly, that you’re both soft and honest and that is the perfect bate for sharks that swim this close to the shore, you’re to choose you, never forget that praying for the hearts guidance in both compassion and care the body is both heal and hero, don’t know no in between catharsis this is strength that has been learnt and undone from unlearning masks before it allows them to be seen of too soft, pretty first

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

21.02.17 | no title (you get to choose)

If we changed the way we looked at fate, destiny, n all the carefree that we choose to blindly accept as expected why do we bother trying, this life isn’t fate, destiny, it is not intangible, imperfectly lost does not mean you should settle for fate or destiny, or any class of mystery, you’re capable of setting your own goals, you’re capable of becoming your own future, you don’t need to settle for charm that is intangible in case it is what is expected, you have a purpose n you’re lucky enough to get to choose what your ambitions are, don’t leave it up to something that is not in your control, a perfect example of this is each day I am constantly silently battling my own mind, my own body, I find solutions each day to combat, it has taken me time to accept that despite this isn’t a physical struggle it simply does not mean this is not real for me, n since then I have not looked back, I am not perfect nobody is, n as soon as you realize that everybody in this life time is finding their own, the sooner you will understand why, there is no better feeling then setting goals n getting closer to them regardless of how long it takes, don’t be fooled by others sugar cane so easily.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

21.02.17 | Feminism (anthem)

I wanted to write something for girls who care too  much, for girls who fear too much n so much more, I wanted to write a space for them, to help free their story, I wanted this space to be for them to reconnect with each other, with themselves, I fear too often for girls who can’t tell the difference between love n loved, those who give away their hearts to boys who are not worthy of their crowns, taint n easily make more then enough room for doubt in the form of black holes, that they attempt to conceal although too clumsy, fall too easily n mistake a knife for a king, watch how their heart whispers heart beats, blur the lines for their body, their mind is no where to be found, consumed by his sugar cane, I fear too much for girls, our girls that are growing up in a world where their body is still something that is up for discussion, that they have to go through life with a man telling them the rights to their own, don’t know that they had, they have a choice, this whole time, I wanted to write this for girls, for queens, for the women who are the gift that helped birth this nation, I wanted to write a space for them, ask all the right questions n allow their stories to be heard, I wanted them to see the love of feminism in all its tints, that this kind of love is an anthem sang for their broken, their hurt, their anger, their tears, despite such uncanny, this anthem is sang for their accidental however always unapologetic happiness.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

17/4/16 – 18/4/16
A letter to my younger self
I don’t even know where to start, which wound to apologize for, will never forgot the tears that up to this day will never stop, if there was one thing I had to apologize for first, it would be for up to this day about the way you feel about yourself, that even when you were younger told nobody about your scars, that I was always there with you, for you, I told you I would never leave you, even that day when you fought with her again n you went downstairs feeling so much, you couldn’t tell which emotion came first, you took the biggest table knife you could find in the kitchen drawer, put your arm out, made sure your eyes were ready, took the knife helping it find its way over your bare skin, you were only 12, this is what you wanted her to understand, even though it didn’t make sense to anybody but yourself, you tried to make her look as you cried for all you insecurities, your broken body, the pain, the emotion that you didn’t understand, you tried to make her feel what you felt but she didn’t understand even when that knife scrapped your bare skin several times, she never looked back, she never tried to look back, it was at that moment you felt that she didn’t care, that it wouldn’t matter, that you wouldn’t care if your blood found its way to the floor, a puddle of emotion, when I think about how when you were little you tried to make sense of so many things, but nothing was working, nothing felt the way it suppose to, there so many things to apologize for n I’m sorry about them, I’m sorry that even up to this day you still cry every single night, I’m sorry that even though you smile its not enough to fix the emotional anxiety, anxiety, something you can’t stop doing, I’m sorry that there’s nothing to really be appreciative of, all I can say is that at least now, I’m getting help, I’m trying so hard to be better for you, I made a promise to myself to be happy, to try n be positive, its all so hard even now, but I’m thankful I’m here today, I just want to make us happy, make these feelings stop, I want us to move forward, to be happy, so I’m getting help for the both of us