Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

12.4.18
Soft flame

I am a curious mind and an unfortunate heart brake, I come to my body for advice about things that make the heart ache because I don’t know anything light when it comes to heartbeats, I have outbloomed this more than I can care to admit, I am the type of love that knows its intensity and the burning loyalty of things that keep me this safe, this rush of throbbing is the only intensity I am happy to bare, it reminds me of the good I have done and prompts the good in this world, we dream like lovers are the type to give love a new meaning, we double check with your body, loving dreamers never forget to show we care about your breath, you will never feel unloved in our presence, we’re the type of love that can be too strong for you sometimes you may even feel like you’re covered in honey, we will never apologize for our sweetness, we’re both soft and fire don’t forget, you’re the one who sparked us in the first place.

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Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

11.4.18 | 12.4.18
Unfinished

I know, but what if I was told that dreams are a reality, what if I didn’t watch others and watched myself, I know, what if I gave myself the same connection I crave for others to this healing body, this good body, what if I told the mind all my secrets and the heart joined in, or if I didn’t have to take medication, what if I understood just how important my mental health is, back then, now, I know, what about this body, what if I praised its reflection instead of giving it reasons to apologize, I know, I know but hear me out what if, I didn’t know what it felt like to want to watch myself tear a good thing away from this identity like it was this ugly thing I had mistaken for a flaw, like I knew how to crack this skin, brake my body open so it might have been easier for the pain to drain out of this body, I know, I know what you’re thinking, but what if I didn’t know how to fix me, what if I did, what if I told myself I’ve tried and that therapy isn’t working anymore and this medication is making me feel worse, and that my body has started aching again and all I want to do is sleep away this lifetime, forever, I know, but what if I told you I’m in love with this body, that every time the heart brakes its the first one to run to it rescue with chocolates and pep talks, that the mind has also learnt to kiss the heart in need, that slowly, we are learning to love from the inside, we are learning that to be whole is to bruise and ache so we know what we are worth, that we are always this worthy, that we suffer from this type of craving, to reach the most of ourselves, I know, I know what you’re thinking but what if I told you..

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

10.1.18

We are all dangerous lost souls searching for love in a world where we are not always seen as daring fables and shooting stars, but rather alchemists that confined in the ways of a world that is shattering at our futures predicament, can feel how we have been aliened to be to shake off this kind of abnormal can you see how they have told us to be, shape shift and see the world for what it really is, can we be the intangibles that come and rescue ourselves from a place that is not yet a reality in this life time, can we only create a reality in this life time, which is to see the future, to know what your body has been begging of you, so touch your own heart and not always another, to come close to your body and witness the way it survives and thrives off the rain the rays how we are so well known for the comfort we give to ourselves, that we are this type of selfish for ourselves, bliss, fable, dreamer, beauty that can never be seen by your average, the secret is the kind of flame that lives inside of our minds, that is the kind of love we should also be searching for, the one that also lets the heart breathe, touch your skin, feel your body believe from the inside, you have always been a norm to what is not normal, now breathe, you’re a welcomed breath here.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

13.11.17
He told me listen, can you see the way you have been told to be, use the heart to say what you feel there are those that will try to silence your truth but do not be swayed by misconseptions of your self in their words, their words have no truth in this body, you’re the only miracle magic that can say how this body in everything they do not have a right to this bodies motion, feeling, nothing but their opinions in the form of their own facts but they don’t understand that just because you’re not willing to tell them about this body doesn’t mean they know everything about this being, they forget that you’re the breath to your own, nothing but what I want you see is what you will say you see in me, I am not a ‘qurk’ I am what I want you to see and maybe less maybe more.   _Iam the breath to my own, don’t put people in boxes of your own opinions and call them facts

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

Give me time, I will carefully give concluded mental diagnosis of not only myself but try n give the ways in which this mind operates, I’ll show you how quickly you can, turn noose into faucet that is, designed in your own identity, break free of these connecting feelings n watch how quickly your mind has chosen to befriend its own shadow, the stigma behind this healing is that its always going to show you its teeth, it feels like there is no escape when your mind is in constant battle with reality, its never easy to ease its reality back to sane, its not okay that we push aside moods in order to get on with reality, sometimes these good deeds do not go unpunished, this healing resonates the feeling of demise quicker that it can manifest healing, on most days it feels like mute, like don’t tell anyone, like don’t speak, like, you’re not worthy, like, worthy had anything it owed you anyway, given this state, given this healing, these words don’t understand their caution, its unwittingly exhausting listening to this mind as your body sits in silence, don’t move.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Lost and found, a lot of this mind’s confusion infectious dwell n this is not who I am, since when did you wake to believe what you have for yourself, understand that you can win, don’t like to get caught up in its noose, you can’t escape so easily anymore, we can’t go chasing people n expect them to fill this constant void, a missing identity, its been a while its been, months, reminded me about all the low turns that they, are better, survival is what life feels like n jagged edges accompany inevitably, wondering why I expect other’s who fill my love n, overflow this body with love that, they are all reason for this body, that without their existence self love is non existent, why do I greed their compassion to rescue me so much it, makes me question what self love means, n I’m I able to, attain its demeanor, precluded my own misconception of self loves bound only to rely solely on their body, their affection, to teach me, n not my own.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

17.04.17

Innocence: “..not weak, submissive shy, kind n gentle, all this, n much more, I miss the days where I could hear carefree whispered into the winter breeze, when spring bloomed with hope, sharing all our secrets to mother earth n, choosing to indulge ourselves in her beauty, I missed this, I missed being able to not give so much thought to dreams, enough to give it pardon free it’s possibilities n, not be scared of its what if’s wanted to be, the one who proves that dreams are worth never letting go that, when you feel defeated by it’s impossible alure this is, why its important to illustrate why you dream in the first place, being a dreamer n having a dream are two different innocences, dreamers are forever mesmerized by reason, for reaching the sky n, asking why the stars they see shine so bright, it’s finding answers when you have been told impossible, dream is, as simple as what you want it to be, I miss the days we talked about how fast we could glimce innocence in truth, rather bind to its opposite trait, not enough innocence, there’s, too much malice that fumbles without our own optimism, it blinding, catch this meditation, n…”

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

16.04.17 | 17.04.17

Struggling with reality: “..being forced to come to terms with being grown has a lot of constraints to its noose, they aren’t always the black jacks that fill your conciouness with clarity, with truth, being forced to realise that even though you yourself as a being have to choose some demise in order to grow, in order to change, back home, you’re selflove, you can only realise what reality you have as you watch it disappear before you desperately reach out your hands fast enough to catch its pace n allow it, watch it shatter into micro shooting stars, the way commanding wish to a content struggling reality, is it a combination of your worst fears, emotions, rainbows to fill in this mood, this grow, how do you grow without struggling in reality, pain manefests n changes people more than we would like to admit, it resonates penetrating so deep into our stream of consciousness until it awakes, until we’re comfortable with change, until…”

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