Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

6.8.17

A simulation of what I have gathered the blurred lines it means to be a kind of existence that can see through you and not myself, one, my hands are the oasis of both unknown and sink your teeth into this kind of stream, I have to welcome you first, don’t misread my words, don’t think them too deep I am not one to play with such kind of narrative, two, kink, need I say more, both the imagination and for you to give such words like cake, like red room, like how long can you keep this kind of secret, three, watch how you move, I have mastered the art of caring and not knowing to care too much, I will sugar cane and indulge you in ways the mind and this world may not let you kiss away norm’s the way we like to think we are all normal, four, you can either call this body beautiful, or you can watch this body be, beautiful, this is usually where they get confused, five, can you feel it, the way I touch a heart that knows how to not show too much, will say how they mirror you but you’re just watching how they speak, how they speak in motion to how they match their mouth is to walk, most important thing for everyone to realize is that for any person to see, we are all existence of awareness to what we feel, so if you feel heartbeats too much, watch the mind and body, if you feel the mind too much, watch the body and heart, if you feel the body too much, watch the heart and the mind, this, is how self-care and love playfully intertwine.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

4.8.17
from dusk to dawn

I just wanna be with you right now, when I move this slow I can see the stars come through my room, its like a flame not a light, nothing too soft something like burn like desire like you’re my desire, like so quick, like can you see how fast this feeling catches on to things, people, like things and people, like, since when did people become possession , like who is your possession , no one, this feeling has flamed out and sparked a different kind of light, its not always that bright this clear to see, in the night sky, the night sky, I tell myself its going to be okay, there have been days where I have watched the sun disappear into the abyss of the night forgetting to eat, I have to remind myself to eat, my body doesn’t want to understand this heightened sense of sensitivity, doesn’t like that being this unstable to anxiety is leaving this body wasted into nothing, looking at opportunities has become a burden, unsure of how long this kind of illness can exist, cease to been felt this much, how you smile at kin when they ask if you’re okay, when they ask about that job, one shift, 4 hours no sleep, what happened, and you tell them, you don’t like the way human beings have learnt to bury their belief of you in them, how tight it is to breathe such an invisible noose, under these stresses, mass anxiety is a build up of a house on fire, your body is lit up from all the judge, only to blow smoke in their face you don’t remember thinking yourself so much worth, don’t remember giving yourself in their safe keeping in their palms closed, four corners with no exit what else did they expect when you watch the words judge, you, others leave their mouth is when you watch their body deflate and swear you could almost make out the words rested in the creases of their face you didn’t ask for this, you didn’t see this kind of opportunity coming, you didn’t know how else to break down but you were not going to allow all this hard work around so much love for an illness that is not ready for this world how he, was so careless to pain that can not be seen, don’t know the intensity of words protested, this world is not ready to aid this kind of illness, still learning about its malaise and all you can do is smile and take care of this body learn, it to heal even when they see you as weak, as give up, you’re a silenced savior to your own body, this kind of hero would be too much for them, they are not ready for you yet.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

2.8.17
Save

I have this really overwhelming feeling that’s doing what it does best when anxiety starts to hit it can only watch and position to catch this kind of stardust, so many times has it been this much only to forget how much it has been save, been hero, forgot too often about its wings, forgot too often about god, see the word forgive in your eyes, this body, this body forgives the mind, not unwanted anymore only heal, late night no sleep, woke mind eased at the attempts of sister sister, calling out her name like all this air, surrounding self with all this feeling could choke on such intensity doesn’t understand that this is too much for me to handle sometimes, and remedy, remedy isn’t here sometimes, I want to be caught by love, I want love to want to catch me, call out my name and cling to the curves on this body, to want this body a blessing come from god to me, from me to you, you’re a blessing in love-, I am afraid of what it means to love a healing body that knows her truth, with the fabled mind that only knows how well it tricks, and a heart weak at love, words that are too beautiful for this world can’t see the lines in between, so sweet the taste is what I imagine it to taste nothing like, still, waiting on words that have motion that come correct with a kind of body that knows not to take a true self for granted, soon, I am whispered, in soon.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

24.7.17 | 26.7.17 | 27.7.17
Beautiful

Do you see, how we have been taught to cower at mirrors the way we shy away from this kind of creation, how the roots of our hair is to deify gravity, how we been conditioned by a system that likes to keep us in trend, wanting to learn our hair matched to theirs but never these roots, never these kinks, do you see, the ways we’ve been told how this skin should never know flowers, such beauty is unattainable, starting with these shades, do you see, hidden between compliments that are snatched right back after its been taking from the back of our throats, the ways in which we see this skin has affected the how we live this life, unapologetic, soft, fire, black, woman, that there is nothing wrong with feeling like you’re beautiful everyday, sneak kisses into this body so it knows true love from within, to know how this body hugs you back is to know how to love yourself first, when you witness its secrets like petals that fall into your palms, is one of the most beautiful photosynthesis there is, how we can see love glimmer in loves eyes the way they are careful with their words, mention them as sweet, and honest, in the same sentence as much as it demands, you have never, been pretty for a black girl, don’t listen to these kinds of poison dipped potions, this skin has been strong, and shackled to never to brake at those who don’t understand its nooses, that having this type of history, that knows how back bone from the lines measured identity in vines of our hands means, to be able to reach out and grab this kind of love back, this kind of unity, self love, and care can never be known by just anybody, you’re permission and solution in your own matched womanhood, see this alive the way we look at words like love, like self, like care, beauty, kind, like identity, like and still black, be the persona of woman that is this much magic to her own reflection, undone, from those who peel back at this skin not knowing how much love it has taken to be bright light shine, back at the mirror in front of her, in front of you, bare all your secrets sheen enough for those who are deemed magic bliss, glimpse this being a shooting star miracle from her birth right which is to see how far you have come all on your own, do you see, how your reflection is magic, your existence is defiance, that you have always been this kind of woman.

Poetry: Melofy of Being Animate

24.7.17 | 26.7.17

If you listen closely, you can hear the mind telling this body words that feel a lot like the ways in which fake, dishonest, like to come close and hug its most vulnerable parts that think belong to this body, how this mental state isn’t something so temporary, that you can’t just turn its function off, that survival, is the same as this health, how quick this illness likes to give metaphors meaning in the same sentence as its brainwashed malaise, you’re worth all the effort, how each word cuts the tips of the tongue, there is always a show of what’s left to unpack, doesn’t like to be misunderstood, this illness, will hurt you first before it hurts the heart working its way up to the mind, how fragile you are, how strong you have be, this mindful can’t see the other side, convinced you’re here forever, don’t ignore what is happening here, this feeling, is trying to talk to this body, tell you how it doesn’t like to be misunderstood remember, to be cradled and rocked, can you see the way it’ll pull at the places where the hurt is most tender do you remember, will mention words like heal and broken to soften a passing feeling, its not always this lonely, in this moment you’re to use a gentle hand, whisper this body to witness all the light in compliments sweet into ears and able to stay this humble, be this kind, we’re all gifted and gift to somebody, to be careful with our words, never use them in split tongue, this is how you brake broken people, we’re all creations of our own, never to be consumed by others but ourselves, in the most tasteful way we perceive this bodies alive, if you listen closely, you can hear the mind telling this body it has always belonged to please its own downfall and accountable to its self, be careful with your words, they are the type of narrative that can dream or damp this beings efforts, do not use them in fit rage, you’re to choose its caliber wisely before you regret its escape from the mouth, as human beings this is the least we can do, as human beings this is the least we can do to stay this balanced, a form of evidence, how we, are all chemically cinematic in hope of balanced sane mobile actuality, this, is what is means to unpack the mind in ways which astound the average being, this is how the mind talks to me when it finds, the right ways to conjoin its fate into my hands, roaming this body its feeling awaiting its welcomed here, I am a home to myself before I am home of any other being animate, melody in twin, I am the poetry in this being first, this is the kind of sweetness that can not be earned by eye candy, you must be as sweet as you look, the sweetest way to tempt a kind of body that has been learnt off pretty enough before sweet inside of this beautiful body, wanting to be sweet enough for both and can only hope melody of animate will do the same.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

17.7.17
this weather

I said, empty your mind, water can flow or it can crush, be the water that chooses a fluid stream, nothing pure about the way it flows, there’s something so beautiful about imperfections, how much more hydrated you will live your life, shape it, be the water, sink your teeth into its calamity, you’re never to take away from yourself something so needed, I’m telling you empty your mind, watch the way the clouds move in rotation to this earth, take time, listen to the beats that are playing in the background listen, to its symphony well, there is hidden rhythm matched to yours, open the window beside you and breathe in a feeling, a mood, now, don’t forget to get lost in this fantasy, close your eyes and tempt the mind, but do not be destructed by its way of being, it is a lost organ free in this body, acknowledge its motion and visit the rest of the body, you’re here, its been a while since we’ve conquered this together, how much warmer is it in here now, can you feel it too, how it makes sense, the way we love this body, can you feel it now.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

9.7.17

The human body is a defiant build, it does not like to be forgotten so easily, played so well by others who shame its kindness their words becoming blades before something so sweet watch how quickly they devour you whole, have you ever had someone tell you we belong together weak at words that rest on the crescent of their smile, your happiness bestowed in their being how unfortunate to see how this kind of scene play out your eyes weep for its forgotten happiness so pure, this feeling so weak, careless silly, the heart weak do not flutter at the attempt of words that have broken you you’re not chained to its absolute, watch over this body well, self-care is never a glimmer it is never to be overlooked as conceded learn to fall in love with yourself first what other being breathe into this body, this good body alive that could mimic this kind of love but yourself, look at this being a muse, you’re not to be cheated by those who tell you otherwise.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

29.6.17
Time (self..)

you, been waiting this long, time is no enemy it is the cross alliance of self and patience, you may hear others and watch their presence become hero before your eyes do not get this confused with your super power, do not watch others and seek yourself, confuse it for worth, do not confuse yourself with worth you’re time, if you look around and see self as lost be very careful of its freedom their are some who do not have this kind of luxury, we are existence of our own time, do not fear what you have right now we are infinite strikes upon this fortune, catharsis that has been bent backwards sometimes, you will not see the value in pain but I promise you will find the lesson buried deep in the inconsistency of the heart, you will not mistake it for anything but precious tempos of time within self, you will see this heart a muse for the way it clings onto intangibles so tight is when you will learn to see the difference between heart and heart ache, so quick to always catch this body, this self-, watch the time, do not fumble its silence, it is a virtue of our own will in the form of duration

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

19.6.17
life..(interlude..)

A welcomed conversation, how often do we get to sit this comfortable and witness the mind this open, do not forget about its illness it is a valuable asset to its existence, it is no disciplined definition, it is a diffident kind of love, we are still learning to exist with its interference’s, learning fearlessness from back bone, and fluid flowing into our stream, how often are we welcoming and welcomed of uncomfortable, do we accept its way of healing and slowly allow the word love to grace the mimic of our mouth, let the sun light in, you have been gone too long, been seen too often of room dimmed in candle lit long enough just to be called empty, you’re not empty, remember this heart, has been beating for every kind of love so many times there is no limit to selflessness, and the mind constantly having to be hero for the way this body beautifies, and how the body has learnt to hide behind broken so beautifully, we are only here to exist as we want, as we choose so careless to its boundaries, who needs constraints when you have found the absolute in living each day, when you’re hero each day-, thank you for reading this, I hope we can do this again sometime.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

7.6.17
Hurting.

What do you do when you can physically feel your body ashing its bones from the inside, you know this feeling too often always uninvited and doesn’t leave until it has made sure you have tried dying at least once, when you have this illness, that likes to eat your body from the deepest parts of its pain and you don’t understand where it found the courage to find it without letting you know first, this illness, likes to keep secrets and never tell this body how to fix its accidents, leaves the body feeling like it is ready to die from its own failure of not being able to locate its demise, how do you sit with something that is trying to kill you slowly, when you’re suffering on your own you are almost forced to witness a death right before your eyes without love knowing you were even there, without family knowing how much it hurts because this kind of pain doesn’t just come with broken bones crunched to dust taken by the empty in this shell of a beautiful body, its so much harder to breathe when you’re not sure if the air you’re breathing is worth living, I was 10 when I first wanted to take my own breath, not long after attempting to see what it would look like to show my mother what it feels like to bleed her words, I imagined flooding this room with all my pain to maybe understand how this body was feeling, to feel better, to stop the pain, I just wanted it all to stop, I didn’t understand why it was coming for me in this kind of cold and loving way, I was 20 when I realized that the words I wrote down were a ransom from this illness, this body is being held hostage, and the heart is barley fighting to stay alive, how to rescue yourself internally when you can’t even save yourself in your living reality, what kind of jaded mood stays for this long, I was 21 when I asked for help, wanted someone to come help me because I didn’t know how to do it first, I was so confused about how this illness attacks this body the way the word enemy comes to the tip of my tongue telling this body words that aren’t true, weakening the heart to confuse abuse for love, you are no hero when this illness comes to surface and claws at every single part of this good body, this bleeding heart, the ache, of numbing the body in a whole is to forget you’re even existing, that you’re alive, this illness likes to drag my body to its absolute and watch it scramble to get back up, and all the heart can do is tighten at the bodies attempt, scared this illness will come for it next, the souls are no where to be found, I am left to save this body alone, just me, who can save this body but me, I am the only one vacant every breath you’re not here when the body has whispered how many times it has given up, and how the heart weeps a flood of pain, you can’t feel this feeling to this intensity don’t sit there and tell me you understand help me, tell me you can help me, that its all going to be okay, that it doesn’t have to be like this, tell me I will get better, that I don’t have to live with this illness bruising this body enough to call them part of this body, I don’t want these wounds, you hear people talk about selflove and how they have not found it, people like me, have not found self love they talk about it like its so close, like its almost in their hands, where, help me find it, I need to find it, Im so scared that one day my body will have enough the heart will be silenced and mute to its own pain and this illness will convince the body to go to sleep forever, a solution, maybe, how do you fix yourself from the inside with an illness bearing teeth at each attempt you can not win this way, help me