Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

15.5.18 | untold

Observe, there are no bad people in the world but bad intentions, we are all chose of characteristics to how we are treated and seen how we are visible to the worlds eye too unkind to see that prejudice, judgment and double-edged knives are never the answer to another person’s body reaching out for help, be kind and listen to what they are both saying and not saying this is how we heal, place their heart in both hands and show them they are a home too, sometimes we all need reminding, observe, we are starved for ourselves never forgot that feeling it is crying for help from the deepest parts of your bodies affection, observe, how the rain has this way of at ease this body, I will never really understand why I’m convinced its a secret language between two realms, when it plays lullaby’s I can sleep anywhere, I sleep to this,- you won’t find me, I have so many hiding places that I confuse my breath for the air..

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Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

24.4.18
you’re a bit alike you and the sky.

I want to be a lyricist, like I want a love like Kanye, and yo, I wanna be able to be the best dare in life for those cut tongue like connecting unspoken poems, the mind dipped in poison type’a shit, mood like ink to paper, like red, like cells, like what are you made of, like dreams, and listen, I’m not too good at this, I get side tracked exaggerations that always lead with timeless imagination then I get lost, like so lost that I can’t even find me, and you know I also want to make a tempo, that unfair unfamiliar beat that makes your mind want to swallow the body whole, about how we shift this life on its back, how god maneuvers, like what are the variables of our bodies existence to its potential and maybe unlimited to limited, or limited to unlimited you know, this is random, but I mean think about it, if I put you in front of a child would you be able to raise it well, like are you scared of raising it well, like are you scared of raising yourself well, get me, here me out, this wake got me feeling like some type of crazy, side track, I like the way I make them feel like they can’t, like they can, like baby you think you know what I got for you like nah you put it away, all this intuition and complicated I don’t think you can handle me, I have the skill of a shooting star in my palms, palatable I swear, and my friends, yo my friends are they type to become kin with the sky they are one of the loudest happiness I know, if you ever wanna know what it feels like, listen to some J.Cole, Aaliyah, Kanye, some Badu and Kojay, Goldlink, Mike Jenkins, Tupac smoke it all, breathe that shit in cause you know how much truth and water we need in this life, you know I’m also the type of bitch that lights shit on fire too, like, I like to tell people things they are scared of like the truth, like I love you, like mental health is fucking hard, like you lying to yourself too much, like I make good choices, like why are we so scared to talk about what makes us befriend the ocean the way we talk about what makes us palatable, like why are we so lost in our 20’s, 30’s, seems like forever, might be something in the way our body panics or exists, I dunno I’m still lost, maybe something about the way the sky looks at us, like we ain’t shit, like we might actually be the shit, I mean listen, you’re a bit alike, you and the sky.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

11.4.18 | 12.4.18
Unfinished

I know, but what if I was told that dreams are a reality, what if I didn’t watch others and watched myself, I know, what if I gave myself the same connection I crave for others to this healing body, this good body, what if I told the mind all my secrets and the heart joined in, or if I didn’t have to take medication, what if I understood just how important my mental health is, back then, now, I know, what about this body, what if I praised its reflection instead of giving it reasons to apologize, I know, I know but hear me out what if, I didn’t know what it felt like to want to watch myself tear a good thing away from this identity like it was this ugly thing I had mistaken for a flaw, like I knew how to crack this skin, brake my body open so it might have been easier for the pain to drain out of this body, I know, I know what you’re thinking, but what if I didn’t know how to fix me, what if I did, what if I told myself I’ve tried and that therapy isn’t working anymore and this medication is making me feel worse, and that my body has started aching again and all I want to do is sleep away this lifetime, forever, I know, but what if I told you I’m in love with this body, that every time the heart brakes its the first one to run to it rescue with chocolates and pep talks, that the mind has also learnt to kiss the heart in need, that slowly, we are learning to love from the inside, we are learning that to be whole is to bruise and ache so we know what we are worth, that we are always this worthy, that we suffer from this type of craving, to reach the most of ourselves, I know, I know what you’re thinking but what if I told you..

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

8.4.18

I haven’t had time stop like this for a while, I’ve been so busy with nothing and taking medication, it felt like clear and no feeling, been focused on the most strange, like things that feel light and heavy but there is no emotion, like things that make me forget like not forgetting maybe like being so present that my body isn’t present, like I was happy in the present but I couldn’t feel it, like I couldn’t think it, I don’t really know how to tell you, I haven’t had the time and space I need to myself and I’m starting to feel like I need to try something else, I have lost myself and I want to find her, I fell in love with her intensity and her will power of quarks.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

29.1.18 | 9.3.18 | 19.3.18

What do you want? I want to know that too, where do you see this going? I don’t have answers to these things, I am a misfortune and a bound soul left in my conscious where I think I belong, what are you hoping for? I hope that the things that are this way that is not okay turn into the moon, where are you? I don’t know how to answer that, who are you with? I am in a place far away from here, somewhere surrounded by a heartbeat and outside of myself, how are you feeling? I am suffocating on this air, my chest feels like crowded and breathless at the same time, I don’t feel safe here, what does safe look like to you? it doesn’t have eyes, its a feeling that can not be described but felt deeply in the heart, I wouldn’t know where to begin, what is left for this body now that you’re accepting to learn about its tamed anarchy? I am learning that we are most alike, that we meet these types of souls for a reason and to dwell on its absence is not always a formality but an acceptance of ourselves and how we choose to exist and exhaust this lifetime, so you have found appreciation yet? yes and maybe, in the form of everything that lives around my truth there are no such things as abnormal nor less important than one another, this connection is a mutating confession with this dream-like reality that lives externally of us, so what would you call it? I want to know that too, I don’t have the answers, I am a bound soul that turns into the moon, where are you? I am in a place far from here, its a feeling that can not be described but felt by the heart, maybe, this connection is a mutating confession with dreamlike realities that are in a constant rotation of ourselves and how we choose to be timeless, which could mean, we are an internally pending reality.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

10.2.18
love-d.
Often, I wonder at love if I am enough for them, I look at myself and touch the mirror in front of me, I see how my heart aches for a soul that has not yet met the heart, the mind likes to tell the heart its secrets and not me, fears that we are both as hopelessly in love when we see him, there have been lovers but never loved, then I start to mention how often it feels to brake and buckle at the knees when I feel the heart brake this way, you have always sworn to be an addict to love, the mind fears you’re loving all the wrong people, your heart helps the mind explain things like how you felt when they kissed you, that their touch was real, their words, were not in hesitation and you could almost touch them too, the mind, will always side with you when you’re this kind of love because, it knows how much and honest you fall even when you’re not loved the same way, you see the mind talk to the heart and can’t help but want something this real, when you look at love the mind says, find it in yourself first and then in them baby girl, you’re needed in this body too, in yourself, is when you’re able to find loved too.- but I wonder what that looks like, wonder things like how long will I have to wait to see them, have we met already, can they find my soul instead then, I can’t help feel like my heart brake into two even halves this way, he sounds like love to me, why is it that he is not, what’s the difference between love and loved anyway, they are the same ache, the mind tells me no they are different, the heart slows down and I ask how, and it tells me, love, is what we receive when we’re loved, and now, I ache some more.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

24.1.18 |Past and present. Collateral Beauty.

I told her, she is also the reason behind this mind, said that as a child where do I even begin, all I did was throw glass at myself, when she wouldn’t listen to my heart I went into small spaces and tried to put it back together, there were memories, where I cried about not being unsterstood and when you’re this fragile even as a child you stop speaking about how you feel because you start thinking this, is the way everybody must be, when we look at our parents as children, we forget they are human, when we look at our parents as adults we forget they are human, must be sometype of ourselves, how we headache into a state of sanity, forget about the complicated and simple things in life is to exist and include yourself in your own oaisis of this world, is to refuse to believe how cruel we can also be to ourselves, love, time, death.
dear love,
I have watched you in so many people and things that sometimes I don’t know where to place you in myself, you have shown me so much. I met you in my friends now, and the first, was a boy when I was 15 and I still think about him when you escape my mouth.
dear time,
Why is it that we want to consume you and not get lost in you. I have bothered about it too, however, in my reality, you’re not the issue but the answer. I could drown into your syllables and watch the world fall into my arms too.
dear death,
The first time I met you I was 10, my body has not forgotten how you wanted to show your mother your feelings we, are no strange to you. You have given me a part of myself I think I lose each time and this is when we meet, and you, show me, love. I am still learning about your malaise.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

28.1.18 | do you lie to yourself

I’ll never understand the human body, it’s the type of mobility that can live on dishonesty and feed off love, where do you begin to trust a world of survival when you hear things that leave mouths connected to ourselves and them, I’ve never been a person that celebrates this kind of morality, I don’t like hearing things that are pretend when they are glaring in my eyes and seeping out of my intuition this way, sure, we are dreamers but in this world lying about self is never the easy way out, haven’t you met mother earth already, hasn’t she told you that this world is according to your choice of life yet, that when we choice between a lie and the truth we are giving the other person control, that they can catch up to our variety of make belief, that when you lie you forget that you’re also lying to yourself and your body will start to feel cracks and you won’t have noticed, our body is full on so much already, I trust you won’t be able to keep up with the bodies confessions that are not yet complicatedly understood by yourself nor its core, the world is suffocating on so much potential don’t be another one of its unwanted phenomenon’s.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

24.1.18

Lately, I’ve been finding myself in really strange realities, Im seeing and noticing things that haven’t happened already with so much clarity, and in the same instant losing sleep, and my apatite, Im starting to feel my whole body in this kind of outward gravity, like my body is trying so hard to exist in a kind of presence where I can already see what’s unfolding right before my eyes before it has even happened and all I can do is watch and be cautious of myself, my sense of trust and truth could not be any stronger, I am feeling words like chaos, pain, their feelings, them, the ones who interact with me, watching words that leave their mouth and how their body language acts, I don’t even listen to most of their narrative anymore its enough to watch them speak, I am much more patience in this state of mind with a sense of anarchy and sharp awareness for the way others self whether they choose to show me or not, these types of things are not constraint to me, I am so much more confident in my narrative, what leaves my mouth is absolute, my truth has never been this much voice, there is less body, I am so much self in this state of mind there is no balance just a different sense of lost and reality in the same being but never constraint to these words, I am the most believe when I am this type of self, there’s a strong yielding of bind that holds me, I am finding it really hard to sleep with all this mind, I am in parallels with different moods, realities, and myself where do I even begin to find stability in this actual resilience.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

23.10.17
don’t touch me, I don’t like to be touched in the same light that knows no truth about this kind of self, how I fear the things that come this close only to watch them crumble and lie in my eyes is the kind of perfection that knows what malaise looks like, has seen its tears and shed blood for its entrance, speak louder I can’t hear you when you’re this much mute this much hurt, isn’t it funny how I can’t keep opportunity for no longer than a couple of mouths, its all I need to show how much praise attention and compliments, there’s only so much this body can do until it notices its own cracks, see the way it hides self from them, see the way she smiles, she has taken you all for a fool, can you see her, can you see the way she cries about her health like she has control, like her body weak, like what is normal, like she is not normal, look at how she cries for nothing, silly, the way she can’t do life without others, without herself, the way she can’t do life, do you see, she’ll cry for your help behind your back only to tell you she’s okay and she’s done this before, how she holds everything in because her plight is still not understood for herself so why tell those close to her heartbeat, why say anything to anyone when she wants to scream pleas like don’t touch me, I don’t like to be touched in the same light that knows no about this kind of self-, but you never told anyone about this truth so what else were you really expecting.