Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

15.5.18 | untold

Observe, there are no bad people in the world but bad intentions, we are all chose of characteristics to how we are treated and seen how we are visible to the worlds eye too unkind to see that prejudice, judgment and double-edged knives are never the answer to another person’s body reaching out for help, be kind and listen to what they are both saying and not saying this is how we heal, place their heart in both hands and show them they are a home too, sometimes we all need reminding, observe, we are starved for ourselves never forgot that feeling it is crying for help from the deepest parts of your bodies affection, observe, how the rain has this way of at ease this body, I will never really understand why I’m convinced its a secret language between two realms, when it plays lullaby’s I can sleep anywhere, I sleep to this,- you won’t find me, I have so many hiding places that I confuse my breath for the air..

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Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

10.5.18 | sleepy love

I can’t help but feel like I’m so lost and found there is no middle ground and it’s tearing at my heart, there’s a lot of this love for what doesn’t exist, I want to be in a place where I’m not afraid of anything somewhere in his heart and close to me, just want to know what its like to trust someone you can fall in love with again, that dreams don’t have to stay dreams, I wish shooting stars were as often as the rain, I can feel the way a kind of body craves its own connection and affection the way it learns to want a love that can need it as much as its own breath how there is no such thing as too much you become their heart and their breath at the same time, so you can make out, you’re not the only one capable of such loyal caliber, show this body worthy of what her words mean, dip her in the same ache when her name sweetens your tongue, remember her favorite things are the ones you can not touch, she is both your best and worst kind of love but I swear she will love you harder than any lover ever set fire your body in ways that can not be physically touched but set on flames by the mind, even you will start to wonder how is it that she is this soft and still a flame all at once,- confess.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

6.5.18 | mapenzi wangu

Come and find me, I like being lost too often it settles the body and rest assures the mind, it has learnt and unlearnt a lot of life, introverted behavior is an abyss of the sky and a melting pot of what ever the mind is capable of, and this illness is a drowing thing that has attacthed itself to me and called it mapenzi wangu, when we sometimes feel lost we are actually learning to be found internally which is why we say we are disconnected this way to the world in the first place, my friends are my reality oasis for the most part, when I hit this close to home I start to see people I reconnect with and kin to family they are my all important parts of my heart I cannot easily let go which means I also want to get close too or too close, unfortunately, I find it hard to let people into my world and I’m convinced that maybe they start to feel disconnected and tricked with me, when these kinds of worlds clash I try to explain to them my abrupt magic tricks and that loving them are the parts of myself that make me feel the most sane, I hope that they do not fall out of love with me, I want to let them see that sometimes I get 10g or more away and they are the ones who bring me back most of the time, I hope they don’t give up on me, when they ask if I’m okay or how I’ve been I can only manage to say words that won’t make them worry, there is so much and not enough of myself for me to help them understand the things about this breath that I’m not already trying to abrakadabra for myself,- ni angalia mimi, ona hapa, maisha hii hapa ni yangu sitaki kubadilisha, nataka kuendelea kama hii hapa nimejifunzia kuamini na kupenda yangu hapa pia,- look at me, see here, this life here is mine, I do not want to change it, I want to continue like this here I’ve learned to believe and love me here too, mapenzi wangu.

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.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

12.4.18
draft

Its always a question, a statement of assurance, how the things that learn to keep my body, how the heart is a misfortune in this world, where you find solitude in yourself and keep this body close, how you’re able to let others prey into your sweetest spots just so you can see if they are worthy, how the heart has also learnt to mend and brake at this attempt, you’re the breath of its moments, when you can’t hold it all inside anymore you test its limits and give boundaries no limitations, everything is a gamble now, when you’re this intoxicated on a mind you’re lost in thoughts of how to reconnect and spark its soul, I have always been the type of dreamer that fantasize about love when I feel connections with hearts that become vulnerable at my words, that learn some of my secrets, that know how to tempt me in ways not others can, I am left with questions when I feel this way and what does my body do, it convinces me that this confession is not the only honeyed truth I need, so I hold my breath and I ask, how is it that you’re able to captivate my entirety in this way I have to know, and then, I press send.

 

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

28.2.18, 1.3.18

I imagine I am scared of love, I mean being loved, I see the way I question intentions the way I close myself off to the things that make me light, the entirety of my presence, which also means my identity, that I shut out and shut down at chances of being loved like I knew how it was going to end anyway, when you feel like you don’t deserve these kinds of things you become the rain, you tell this body to tread softly but no too soft, to be open but not too open, to never be your self too much because we don’t know them yet, too scared that our own will make them realize words like better, like you were never interested or too interested and it was too much, you were being too much, always this overwhelming love for them but not for who I am and wonder where that comes from because I don’t see this body as shame confidently speaking I see myself as so many intangibles they are not enough to help you understand me and I can’t understand myself sometimes, but when I try to find its words they are no where spoken, concealed in my actions as well as the detailed lining in my palms how I want them to see me, forget that I am not seeing myself, enough, I have dwelled on this word for as long as I can remember, I am enough, not for them, him, her but for me, I, am enough to swallow myself whole too, reminding this body that it is allowed to do both, overflow and contract is to feel so tenderly, that we don’t need words all the time, we are always free to be who we are we owe our body this much, divine, we will almost never be enough for others, however, we can always rescue love to be enough for ourselves first.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

23.2.18 | be careful, you might

Heartbeat 1, and they give me what I want, can get lost in their line of sight and the way they walk, heartbeat 2, when funny is also charming you put two kinds of people together and they become whatever you want it to be, the mind plays, heartbeat 3, how each song is purposely rhymed and you wonder if they know it too, so lost in lyric you could swear it was about them they don’t know these secrets, heartbeat 4, you are known for stealing moments rather than kisses they are the kind of memories that only you have seen, you don’t disclose cryptic behavior very easily count them as a chance, heartbeat 5, could use their voice as my pulse and they would never know, the kind of soft chime that aches even without their presence, heartbeat 6, watch how quickly I smile at things that make no sense hidden, you make no sense remind me how gentle they can be too and maybe you can see it all, they are both a mystery and untouchable, heartbeat 7, the only thing I wait for and they know what it is too, can’t leave without it, please do not read this, heartbeat 8, they are not for consumption of your time remember what belongs to others is not yours do not play with things like trust and attraction, you know this feeling, heartbeat 9, you must choose it a secret, you can not have what is not yours, this is the heart and the minds favorite passion, heartbeat 10, you’re not lost you find heartbeats in them all some of which you can also hold find out its secrets, a pounding feeling been pulling on the heart this grip and intriguing the mind’s game of pure neurotic temptation, seduction is a strength best left to keep guessing.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

10.2.18
love-d.
Often, I wonder at love if I am enough for them, I look at myself and touch the mirror in front of me, I see how my heart aches for a soul that has not yet met the heart, the mind likes to tell the heart its secrets and not me, fears that we are both as hopelessly in love when we see him, there have been lovers but never loved, then I start to mention how often it feels to brake and buckle at the knees when I feel the heart brake this way, you have always sworn to be an addict to love, the mind fears you’re loving all the wrong people, your heart helps the mind explain things like how you felt when they kissed you, that their touch was real, their words, were not in hesitation and you could almost touch them too, the mind, will always side with you when you’re this kind of love because, it knows how much and honest you fall even when you’re not loved the same way, you see the mind talk to the heart and can’t help but want something this real, when you look at love the mind says, find it in yourself first and then in them baby girl, you’re needed in this body too, in yourself, is when you’re able to find loved too.- but I wonder what that looks like, wonder things like how long will I have to wait to see them, have we met already, can they find my soul instead then, I can’t help feel like my heart brake into two even halves this way, he sounds like love to me, why is it that he is not, what’s the difference between love and loved anyway, they are the same ache, the mind tells me no they are different, the heart slows down and I ask how, and it tells me, love, is what we receive when we’re loved, and now, I ache some more.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

24.1.18 |Past and present. Collateral Beauty.

I told her, she is also the reason behind this mind, said that as a child where do I even begin, all I did was throw glass at myself, when she wouldn’t listen to my heart I went into small spaces and tried to put it back together, there were memories, where I cried about not being unsterstood and when you’re this fragile even as a child you stop speaking about how you feel because you start thinking this, is the way everybody must be, when we look at our parents as children, we forget they are human, when we look at our parents as adults we forget they are human, must be sometype of ourselves, how we headache into a state of sanity, forget about the complicated and simple things in life is to exist and include yourself in your own oaisis of this world, is to refuse to believe how cruel we can also be to ourselves, love, time, death.
dear love,
I have watched you in so many people and things that sometimes I don’t know where to place you in myself, you have shown me so much. I met you in my friends now, and the first, was a boy when I was 15 and I still think about him when you escape my mouth.
dear time,
Why is it that we want to consume you and not get lost in you. I have bothered about it too, however, in my reality, you’re not the issue but the answer. I could drown into your syllables and watch the world fall into my arms too.
dear death,
The first time I met you I was 10, my body has not forgotten how you wanted to show your mother your feelings we, are no strange to you. You have given me a part of myself I think I lose each time and this is when we meet, and you, show me, love. I am still learning about your malaise.