Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

28.5.19 | Mine.

Who am I, I am someone that deeply holds my voice close to my amour, I am the kind of depression that allows others holds their hand and whispers to them that vulnerability is important, who you are is important, explain we are so much into a world that does not care about things they can not touch, that you can not bleed enough for them, I am someone who will give you love letters that help satisfy your soul first, I believe in our capability, I want to reach into your mind so you know what humility looks like, touch your heart with my eyes when you tell me what has been keeping you alive today, my view of this world is the most balance, it is both a growth a reality of two outcomes of myself and who I am becoming, I’ve held conversation about this breath enough, space in and out of mind for who I am first then you, I am the kind of breath and fire and soft and watching people make choices, watching who I am becoming make choices, humanity is both list-full and limitless, when I brake my bones for you you will know, when I call you it might be 10 years down this growth, I watch the way we speak, my home, my curiosities are somewhere along side impulsive and intensity, I am one or the other never both, to co exist is to understand and make room for the person who is the truest self first, if I do not learn from who I was I would never be who I am becoming first, -don’t completely lose yourself into things and people, lose yourself completely enough to evolve on to the next glory/ prayer/ gratitude/ self. -what/who will you choose to become.

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Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

20.4.19 | Guest.

How do you follow me into my home, I’ve been thinking about what manifestation is, what it could look like in this state, I’ve also been talking out loud trying to remember how to use my words when I am this unexpected, I have always told myself that it’s always going to be okay, that you’re allowed to be here too, when my depression visits it brings all the ache with out the twins, knows how to flood in memories, this type of meeting has always still been this way, has always felt like the very first time, and like the last time, what do you call an insomniac with dreams, an unstable mentality into a life, how do you call it again, I’ve gotten so used to being lost that the word its self has fooled both meanings, everything in me is preparing to shutdown, there are two of me here, what is that name again trauma, healing, these words buried so into me I can’t help them out of me, sometimes I’m scared about it all, I don’t exactly know when its going to end, I’ve been holding onto my pieces picking up its shards my hands bloody, I know there are guests of who I am living here, coming in out as they please, they are sloppy, careless and misunderstood, so caved into harsh words that have never belonged here, you tell yourself not to bring that kind of talk here, we did not agree on these types of unnamed chaos too, my existence feels like its on pause again, somewhere I can not even give myself the permission to do anything but breath between these four walls, this has always been beyond a feeling, I know what it feels like to heal, I know my breath has done gone been here too long we want us back so hard, we still do not like the process of understanding everything when guests are this rude into our home, I still have dreams to bring me back alive and well, want to break all these pieces into more pieces and say look this is how I am made it here too, I am learning courage in so many conversations, learning there are more than two sides to every word, I am teaching myself that it is the best thing to fail and hearing my own plea’s is me condemning me to come into myself as I step outside of who I am, to look at all of me and hand my trauma the key for next time.

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.

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

Gratitude of love (healing us ver) | 6.3.19

How careful, we steal hearts and glances the way we breathe, we use words to never use them in front of each other and sometimes ourselves how often do we wish to stay this soft a greedy us, are so misguided even to our own who gives us permission first, do we only ever seek words that gratify us from all the misfortune we confine our selves in, could we cry us all the oceans in our blue planet the irony is both intended and a learning effort, how determined are we to fail at love until we understand how close we are to its warmth so we say always, want this kind of love first from the beginning before we give it control, when we are a disciplined flame the smoke carries our sky and we get whispered away by worn down hearts trying to heal themselves too, what are the selfish rules we must come to closure within a body that has both bruises and love, they say what they want, there is no wrong way to love someone, that letting go clears the air, the date spent with a returning body, do we devour in perfection our existence close, in order to let go, how much does it really have to hurt until its all over, how do you let go and move on when oceans are irony of a false affirmations, is this human enough for me, how long does it have to heal, is this way of confrontation in narrative too, from healing people too, healing people with unsure love can they only still heal too, I swore I would not repeat him again so why does it still hurt so much, the catch is either you or not them don’t fool yourself any longer, leave this karmic air alone, set us both free, this is how we belong together too.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

1.3.19 – 2.3.19 | CO2ย + 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

6.6.18 \ kissing.

Kiss, I can be nice and I can be casanova, I’ve learnt so well what it means to romance hearts and never exhaust melody of being animate, kiss me and tassle your words tightley enough around my neck wrap your hands with mine, please; and melt me with your rare, kiss, I get bored easily so be careful with my heart, it is bored to death with all the lies and split hearts of ghost words with no erotics, kiss me again, I am warned by her’s and him but I could not warn you enough about me, I’ll giggle into your ear whisk my tongue down your lips to your neck you have been warned about how I get my ways, it’s just one allure after another, bite you back and create fantasy right before your eyes, hands tied behind your back, I am not afraid to show you how much I love, when you love me too-, love you.