Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

It’s a nice idea, but it doesn’t exist: reply| 19.3.19

I want you to think about this for a moment, think about it the same way you hold yourself, after you having given yourself permission, the same way you crave your own attention, I want to you to think about how you let something so untrue into our being when there are words like humility, trust, like honesty like dreams, words that had no meaning until you assigned it its divine correlation, how often you smack your mouth in the name of words like healing, words that had no specifics until they aligned with your intentions until you found its meaning, how careless are we enough to believe things if not for who we are, for ourselves first, can we not seek this much, I hear this statement so often and I wonder about the love they have in them first, the dreams they have given life, I remember moments like the milestones we take deep breaths after, how close we are to achieving something we have manifested for so long, how good this feeling is, that it is both real and out of this world, when we mention words like love and someone else why is it so hard to see, I mean like we tell ourselves it doesn’t exist when we are seeing it come to life in so many people, we must understand outcomes like timing and love, see its attention to detail and notice its perks, who says these words know the bitter taste it leaves in its mouth, between clenched teeth, has been here before, is both unrequited and swear to leave this feeling alone, to never know about its meaning, when we question words like love in all forms we are confirming notion of its opposites, we are denying facts based on heartbeats, on a changing person, we are allowed to change, we are allowed to heal and move, love is not conforming it does not have strict synonyms it will eat the alphabet alive then rearrange its meaning just for you, be careful with perception, the mind is both the truth and a liar, your heart is both armor and silly, trust in your intuition, be honest with your body, you’re coming out of a closed state this way too, lean in to learn yourself to choose love over its definition too, can you hear me okay back there too.

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Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Drafted love letter (receiver: self) | 13.3.19

A loose cannon mind, vulnerable to life this is how she lives, fearless and freedom in her spirit birth-right, she has exhausted everything that has buried her and shown her what chances at life could be like, there is no room to be scared of things that she can or can not control, she gives it justice, she is not scared of anything or anyone but herself, this here has been a careful failed attempt at so many times there is not enough that could amount to all the wrong that has gotten her here, effort is a representation of her soul, don’t get carried away by what you see in her, she is both conflict and solution in human form, she has these still scars that she says make her who she is and everytime they ache she is reminded of who she has been, her story is a forever written, she has undying bound to herself first, there are many ways in forms of her anarchist mind, her heart is titanium seasoned in spring, let love in and allow love to leave this is also how she has learnt herself a fearless freedom fighter, she is not censored to candy or chocolate she more like a futuristic drug, she has this will about no regrets so everything that leaves and enters her mouth is honest and forgiving, there is malaise in this type of living too, there is simply no time to allow for these types of external growths to clean her slate of imperfect favorites, she is a carried generation of women that have healed her soul, how often is it you get to see a being this untouchable, vulnerability is nothing to be scared about when you’re in love with affirmations of growth, of self, in love, into change, from heartbeats, and fall for heartstrings, we’re are all a heartache away when we await these better selves, this a breath and a slice of cheesecake with a cup of water, its looking in the mirror and unlearning bad habits from old habits, its recognizing yourself at all times, is to stand firm when you add sweetener to your coffee and feel eyes, remember the word choice it will give you full comfort to know this is a type of you that is an absolute finesse to conquering who she is first, talk your shit, you have waited your own long ago, treat yourself to your dream.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Moving on, and letting go (interlude ver) | 6.3.19

Adjective proposition, in narrative motion, both a bold statement and a wish or three away, this is a sitcom of stolen words to help with heart on love, I don’t think there’s a word for what that is, actually there is a word for that, its love, when you care about someone beyond all rationality and wanting them to have everything they want no matter how much it destroys you its love, and when you just love someone you just, you don’t stop ever, even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy even then especially then, you don’t give up, because if I could just give up, if I could just you know take the whole words advice and move on and find someone else that wouldn’t be love that would be, that would be some other disposable thing that is not worth fighting for, this open dialogue I tell myself then remind them who I am of all the affirmations is this true love, also, in this begins a strong heart is needed, a mindful presence of identity customized self worth bring out the two souls roam your body and feel its presence, the thoughts and emotions you’re are looking for are all surrounding your emperor nobility take it, it is all yours, this whole life time, fall in love with intangibles and show off its love, boast about how close you’re to a feeling that is learnt through a soul, you know exactly what I’m talking about, your body has a wellbeing of untouchable enticement, you say you love, let go, you’re a dependable flame to this fire oxygen first, people say they are going to change and it never happens and people go back to old ways and old habits, move on, its not that simple.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Welcome mat (interlude ver)| 4.3.19

Uh I see, so as soon as it stops raining you’ll leave, I hope the rain never stops so I can stay here forever, an interlude of dreamy feelings, I can’t stop thinking about how the words we belong together sounded so out of this world, we had a world together, me laughing through the phone my biggest tease you were worse than me, there were moments where I felt like I could trust this feeling when you got busy I started to feel less of you, you visited my heart but never stayed long enough, every time I saw you I would count the days out weighed by your absence and meet me today’s no call that night it was over and I swore at myself cursing at my heart my mind a bystander of my emotions how could I have hurt myself so much, because of you we have touched clouds and named every passing thought that came in comfort of my soul when you call I will not pick up, you’re an interlude of exit mat bellow my door read the syllables in code I don’t care what you do with them, leave my home alone, don’t call me a second time it is done, I thought of all the love we shared and all the fights we had please try to understand. _turn me into the moon (good luck)

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

1.3.19 – 2.3.19 | CO2 + H2O + heat energy

You speak harsh words with my pulse with my heart tucked behind your tongue a few words there is no entrance, there is no more space for that kind of dependency here, you’re lost air, we travel so far for hearts that trick fire into needing them, brave blue flames that circle its vicinity I have burnt everything that does not serve my highest being, we do not settle into breaths, loves air is enough to share, being empathetic is not a weakened thing for lost souls that have struck enough times in the name of love, blue of all these hearts learned to ash them into the air, magic tricks are not new here, we know to cast spells mantras to self this way you burn flames that have mastered fearless freedom who would even dare no young dumb shit here, let them come, come correct, let them come to me even then when flowers are not enough and you crave something that was so hard to live without, I remind myself that I have lived without air for so long they are no longer welcome into this home, I have wished long enough for this season to love sick out of my home, I can feel the way my body still craves air like I could need hands that are not mine and familiar about the places air has touched, air takes my breath away and I am a willful prisoner to his strength, air doesn’t know this yet but I meant every love potion I said even when air was not ready, who could love you so hard this way anyway, find your way back to me, I hope you lose yourself the way I once did too, I hope the wind takes you under its currents and you fight for your way to me, funny is me trying to write you after you had gone your taste still in my mouth how careless a lost presence flowered weeds burnt at my feet, a rainy spring is air spell bound, carried away by this home, there is smoke where you used to touch, these days I can not feel your breath here if I tried, I tell myself do not leave the door open this way this is how flames get put out easily too, all that’s left, is all in memory of a feeling.

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.

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