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.

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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

Ocean rain.

I want to tell the truth, want flowers to know that I loved them enough to know what this looked like, didn’t want them to see me in a light that was not a mirrored version of myself, this is not about me, this is the aftermath and before the truth, when you look at glances of yourself and flowers what is the difference between the mirror and yourself, you tell your words this kind of hope deserves the truth, if they represent a type of love and care that is most like its self-educated nurture they are royalty enough and you’re not to hold back the truth, when you light them up, watch their eyes soften in the glow of your warmth this is enough, when they touch your hands and never want to let go this is enough, when they show you their demons this is enough, you’re not to hide, when you find your words unable to come out, sweat in your palms like you’re holding all the waters in this earth, when all you can do is cry enough oceans, swear you never meant it to be this way and that they were the one, when you catch your breath, tell flower the truth, tell heartbeat, that you hope they know how much this feeling will never leave, that you will understand and respect their decision even if your heart breaks right in front of them, ask the sea to love you back when you have given your heart to heartbeat, tell the ocean you love him enough to cry oceans for him.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

16.8.18 | more than..

Heart-beat, an alternitive universe you go into your body, ask the heart connected fix me ways to find out why you keep going back to his type of love, know very well how he has learnt and unlearnt to memorize you, how he told you he wants to learn what goes on in your mind first, that he wants to know your attention before he gets too close to your body, you can see he is confused about what you show him and he is trying to hide it, you, are trying to hide, that you could fall this hard and not want to get back up, he told me we belong together and I wanted to ask him what he means by that, wanted to kiss the words out of him over and over and over again, he is so soft and so much fire I melt into his words like this, when I close my eyes, he is all I see, makes me light up just for him, I want to tell him I want to be his and his alone twice, he knows now, I imagine telling him this home is his too now, even when he walks away he is still misplaced into my whole heart, he knows how intense I can be while he watches me call on his name, he never misses my calls, makes sure he calls back if not all the time, doesn’t know I can see through him, that when you have observed lover this way there is no easily going back for you, he talks about future as though it were right there and you beam his words, think he has never looked this suductive, you’re also learning about his type of venerable, you also thinking this is the most sultry way about his presence, leave the way he makes you feel like there is no one is this world that could compare, waiting for his dial is like clock work, the perfect amount of space and fire, you could also call this love but, he says I am stubborn, so my pride is now at its highest submission.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

4.8.18 | honesty’s ego

I have been capitalizing my spare time with chaos and conversation around a type of self that is coming to terms with a truth, ultimately, when you make mistakes in the blood of others you have to be ready for the imploding downfall of its reparations, there is choice with every intention and sometimes we are so quick to choose temptation over what is the right thing to do, when you cross over truth you cannot call on your name whisper sweet words coated in honey even you are capable of sweet talking yourself into clout, you say you favor honesty, be critical about the way you over share yourself this body is both self-destructive and hope encased in flowers in the same algorithm, you, are not safe from your words remember, choice is a repercussion of its representation, be both gentle and careful when you bark at not only yourself but others, do not sweeten your mistake call it for what it is, this, this is how you heal and sugar cane honesty for its true class, be brave enough to allow uncomfortable into honesty’s pride when you misplace your choices into its ego, deem there will always be consequences for its bark, do not make light of its claim, or be ready for its noise.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

13.6.18 |14.6.18| “..i love you too..” playing with heartbeats. warning.

Stop it, you’re looking for love in all the wrong feelings, when the world has tested your patience enough take it as a lesson, do not dwell on its proof rather whip lash it compassion that you have been searching for love in all the wrong places, let your body correct you enough so you can see that these beloveds are not for the faint hearted, allow yourself time you have bruised your heart before and guessed the mind games its enough now, listen to what your body is saying, softly place your right hand on your heart be curious about its teachings this being has shown you a lot of its masks to the wrong kinds of hearts, you know exactly the kind of passion, the ones that like to ghost into mysterious and miss a good thing only to come back wishing at the hearts attempt, you’re not attentive to this body, the other day and time again you have watched heartbeats say they love hearts as you have teased its truth, this snake bite is not for the faint, you listened as they tore at the worth of I love you too attendant their hands are the habit at your hips, this is not new for them, you look at him and wonder what he thinks of as nice, want to score him with its consequences, want to yell at his shameful hands when you privilege love pretended to know its true definition is to beat it into and out your mouth, love is not flowers, its more than hope, you’re not to hope in flowers, nice for what, you point blades at their throat reminding them again to have been warned into this heart, you know exactly what it means to love, wishing you could grab nice by the heart look yourself in their eyes a fire burning through your body and into theirs smile at its reflection and say, I know what love looks like, because I know where it begins first-, do not tarnish and leave hearts broken in trails of your insecurities just because you do not understand its complexities peoples hearts are not for you to need to want and discard like empty shells this is a warning to you, next time, I won’t be so gentle, watch your breath suffocate around my existence-, you have been warned.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

13.6.18 | 14.6.18 | Dazzzzed (no flowers here..)

I tag on his pride and he drops to my mouth, I pick him up with my lips make way for his hands tell him I don’t like it slow, want something I can brag about, he takes my hands puts them behind my back tells me he will make sweet melody with my voice I can’t help bite my bottom lip look into his eyes and smile up at him, I tell him fine, and warn him I’m an expert when it comes to the right domineer, warn him again that I can also be an expert just for him, he looks at me trailing my sides until he reaches the soft tail of my back pulls me in and says, I have a bad habit when it comes to hearts like yours, I respond likewise as he wraps his hand around my neck warning me about his presence I can tell by the look in his eyes he is intrigued, he asks me about the undeserving I have allowed into my body commanding he is not like the rest of these heartbeats, I laugh and ask him to stop lying, say he has a lot to prove and words that sing in flowers are not the kind of song you’re after, he tightens his strength around my neck I grab his hand dazed he smirks and says, I am not like the rest of these hopes, I am sharpening my words enough to ignite you the way you like and pay attention to your body, give me everything you breathe in, I don’t like sharing inner beauty of the mind, don’t make me say this again, I taste my lips and say, how long did it take you to practice these kinds of spells I too I’m not hope, you should watch the way you use such honey then I push at his hand, and ask him to tighten his grip he dosesn’t, he tags my purple hair kisses me without missing a beat and says, I don’t like being told what to do there is no truth in my being that way, plus, were’t you curious about my touch, told you I can give you both love and ecstasy, I rest both my hands on his grip look at him and say, chock me harder, please-, soft fire dream.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

6.6.18 \ the L word

I am witness that nothing can prepare to compare when you kiss someone who has learnt to steal your heart charmingly, hands that notice the hiding spaces you quiet down next to them, breathe at the same time to open your world for the L word with your fingertips reaching into their heart and mind, guide them carefully, warn them this wonderland utpoia has been a paralysis of heaven even without their love first, they are the first to be welcomed, you warn them a second time reminding them how this body is selfish when it comes to my love so you tightly hold their hand saying be careful, tell them to speak in trailingual, flowers, speak in the rain and dreams, your secrets are my secrets too now, answer, I have fated us both, choose a kingdom, you kiss them gentley whispering, I’ll be waiting for you right here, so come to find me

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.