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.

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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 gentley pick up the rest of what my depression has left of my body off my bedroom floor and tuck her into bed, I’ve been writing in code as long as I can remember for those who know the conversation, for those who are blessed with a mind that doesn’t know how to quieten down for themselves but for others, we know so well how the body likes to talk in cryptic behaviour, to see who is worth it, this is a silent prayer to the rain and to beloved kin, there are no words when I mumble these two loves, depression’s favourite 5 letter word each time, sorry, I’m the fire child with rain tendencies scared hiding from giving voice the things that still make me feel like I could sleep forever, how else are we allowed to communicate when we get lost in our body this way, when I find the fewer words to confront kin it becomes more than a one way conversation, in my mind I say, when I give up my pride to talk about a healing state I mean I am also giving me time, when I breathe in and out this way I am learning what it means to be myself and not my illness, when I lose touch of the the world around me and people it means I am in desperate need of myself so I will disappear into my own galaxy, sorry, I am learning not to apologise for my healing sorry, when I come back to you, I will not want to relive the trouma, in advance I want you to know, I am here, I see you, I am healing, self has been in need of my three super powers and you’re my last destiny.

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

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

asleep.

What happens to the body when you’re emotionally invested in yourself, you’re a sleep walking wake from assumption of how this mentality operates and its been years now who’s counting anymore, I think about ways to brutally grow, then I overthink its outcome, always, something that feels like its right, a place for your heart your mind to rest sometimes, caught sloppy on high ceilings in so much of what is real and what isn’t, this is not to confess that you’ve lost touch of reality, it is to assure you that you have been able to do both, I used to think I only had one touch but I’m quickly realizing all of these self proclaimed one gift is a false limitation, my lack of creativity has been circling my inner universe its exhausting, this is where affirmations are made, spending time with your mental is a portal to an impatient part of not only who you are but what you could become, self-teaching to understand why your heart feels so strongly about love and who you dare let close is a crucial act of selflessness, admitting to your eyes that what you saw was real and listening to its truth because we live in a world where our eyes are not always seen as the truth or the norm so we’ve been taught to see no evil, my body is heavier than I have given it reason, sleepless nights that feel the warmth of the sun rising is both a beautiful capture and an exhausting reality is both a blessing and a demise, I feel so strongly about things that I could cry all the waters, its exactly as dramatic as it sounds I wouldn’t lie about with my bodies worth, there is always flames brewing here, this is just one way to hero my chaos

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

8.10.18 | Fall.

Sky in, a type of kin that will make even you beg for more, whispers of favourites turn the flame on, I let the words curve into my mouth this way, what I’m trying to say is still unfinished and coded, it sounds a lot like unspoken verbs, pronoun of this is the heart, the adjective is the way the mind is feeling but too scared of its truth only, we have never done things this way before, our words are backwards and on purpose, how do we make sense of all this heat, what happens when both passion and tension sweeten the tongue, how do we tame ourselves out of these flames, so carefully careless we could set everything on fire the way we like this feeling to be this talented, watch the way it has taken over a body that shares the words care and love with self, when she lets you in be carefully honest with everything, she is both blind and bright in the same notion.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Something like a few hours, and I’m so carelessly lost in a warmly lit room, I’ve set the air free to desire, I can’t resist falling into my own body, I close my eyes, lay on the bed, my arms across the sheets, I listen to the soft song I’ve put on reply, touch my skin, smile, I’m thinking about how warm and addictive this feeling is, want it to stay, I open my eyes softly brake into a familiar tune along with the replay button, then I, turn my rhythm to the wide full-length mirror gazed at me, I looked up at her naked, paused, when was the last time I saw this kind of happiness, I try not to guess too hard, can’t help stare in awe of its expressions, my mind has already lovingly grabbed at my sides pulling me closer, I smile a little, tease all angles and continue to love my body like this.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

19.9.18 | my lover letter

love me harder, I mimic those close to my heartbeat so I can speak their love language too, I invite their souls into my heart tell them, thier hearts are safe here and their mind is free to wonder in my presence I will make them feel light too, I smile so hard at the things that make me the most unhappy because this is a beauty mark I have learnt as a child too, I walk on moondust because I do not feel safe here, my mind is a safe space even though it never lets me rest its thoughts we are constantly in melody of each other about how to love and care for this body the best way we know how, my heart is like spring, if you pay attention to me I am yours until you stop trying, my body has leanrt to hold back and not allow for unworthy heartbeats to form thier presence even when the heart has already mistaken kindness for a pulse, we are not afraid to love but we’re afraid to break into two even halfs, people say we are strong this way too because we have taught the heart what it means to be both fragile and agile in the same beat, this is the best thing we do, when I am not in love, I think about its meaning and rearrange its concerlatons with differnt outcomes and reasons for its ache we’re never safe from its warmth, I tell souls close to me to always choose love but be warry if its teachings, I am not an expert on love just a girl with purple hair who writes crazy love stories to her own warmth; I wonder who will be next.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

A home, been paying attention to the way you respond to my lessons, there is no type that have made it this far, I tell my kin to be careful with the way they swallow my words even I am learning, we talk about love and she tells me this is the first time, I know how she must be feeling, when you come this close you become a puddle of clichés, a mirrored glass of what you want to see even if it must mean the half untruths, love does this, she is high off his scent and I can see his spells lovesick out her mouth this way, talks about how unreal this must be, and I watch her happy like it were the night sky filled with moonlight, she asks me what to do with her heart and I tell her to be strong, love is a beautiful ache and if you choose to love, you must also be ready for its infinite charm, and she asks me, what happens, when heartbeat loves two people distance is a battle, and love is bitter sweet war, I fear for her heart, she asks again, what does it mean for love then, I look at her, she sinks into the car seat, the sky chimes rain down on the car as she turns the heater back on, I sink into my seat watching the rain, and I say nothing.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

I am so good at convincing my body about others, when my heart isn’t so invested my mind is this picture map of unsolved people and how it is they will benefit my breath, I find my mind working in myths, myths that are classified unready for this world open to new problems and continually stuttering at love, I don’t have strict titles of heartstrings how they choice and love things like it were their breath too, I am madly in love with love, which is why I feel so bound to the word, why I speak so strongly in and out of its presence you cannot implode on my circumference around its complexities and tell me anything about its wrongs, love has an ambiguous ambiance circling its truth which is why its so simply silly easy to get lost in its clasp, become beastly in its eyes when they flaw, never not this love too, I care in doses of extreme spells when it comes to heartbeats I am an unhealthy addict even if it means my own breath too.