Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

im i crazy to call identity love.

A self-proclaimed psychosis narration of formatted words to meditate the mind, and at ease the body when bad days are uncontrollably unpredictable and after your blood, breathe, emotion of space that moves within the body is to exhale this frustration of uncomfort attempt to sit with its unjust child like, like adulthood manifested trauma, crazy, another word that is meant for you but is misplaced in connotations, boundaries, and this mental, discomfort, is to sit with it, to watch your own unsolved chaos a black super woman animated hero, like woman like survivor, selflove, you, what is yours, selfcare, you, a super power, irritable irrational behaviors that maneuver in and out of this body like permission to self, like it was normal, what is normal anyway, self, who do I see myself as when and without this state of mind, an actual metaphor of this is the rain, a contradiction of identity and misplaced answers that hit this heavy are to never be forgotten, identity, notice how quick you’re to save your name next to love, identity has always been love, others, there are no others, they are my precious heartbeats each pulse is remembered into my being this way, relationships remind me of flowers in the spring, and the rain, three of my favorite human languages this, its no secret now, habits, loving harder is to admit its self in and out of me these heartstrings are internal external loves, fixing our broken hearts for the sake of our identity, souls, are both in complicated super power love and care, heartbeats is compassionate black super woman a pulsed warning of heartstrings words aimed like identity, self, relationships, always this, it is no secret now, a psychosis narrated formatted words to meditate the mind and at ease the body, when bad days are uncontrollably unpredictable and after you always, always this goes back to love-, lullaby. black woman. identity. heartbeats. and maybe heartstring now too.

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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.

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

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.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

10.5.18 | sleepy love

I can’t help but feel like I’m so lost and found there is no middle ground and it’s tearing at my heart, there’s a lot of this love for what doesn’t exist, I want to be in a place where I’m not afraid of anything somewhere in his heart and close to me, just want to know what its like to trust someone you can fall in love with again, that dreams don’t have to stay dreams, I wish shooting stars were as often as the rain, I can feel the way a kind of body craves its own connection and affection the way it learns to want a love that can need it as much as its own breath how there is no such thing as too much you become their heart and their breath at the same time, so you can make out, you’re not the only one capable of such loyal caliber, show this body worthy of what her words mean, dip her in the same ache when her name sweetens your tongue, remember her favorite things are the ones you can not touch, she is both your best and worst kind of love but I swear she will love you harder than any lover ever set fire your body in ways that can not be physically touched but set on flames by the mind, even you will start to wonder how is it that she is this soft and still a flame all at once,- confess.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

6.5.18 | mapenzi wangu

Come and find me, I like being lost too often it settles the body and rest assures the mind, it has learnt and unlearnt a lot of life, introverted behavior is an abyss of the sky and a melting pot of what ever the mind is capable of, and this illness is a drowing thing that has attacthed itself to me and called it mapenzi wangu, when we sometimes feel lost we are actually learning to be found internally which is why we say we are disconnected this way to the world in the first place, my friends are my reality oasis for the most part, when I hit this close to home I start to see people I reconnect with and kin to family they are my all important parts of my heart I cannot easily let go which means I also want to get close too or too close, unfortunately, I find it hard to let people into my world and I’m convinced that maybe they start to feel disconnected and tricked with me, when these kinds of worlds clash I try to explain to them my abrupt magic tricks and that loving them are the parts of myself that make me feel the most sane, I hope that they do not fall out of love with me, I want to let them see that sometimes I get 10g or more away and they are the ones who bring me back most of the time, I hope they don’t give up on me, when they ask if I’m okay or how I’ve been I can only manage to say words that won’t make them worry, there is so much and not enough of myself for me to help them understand the things about this breath that I’m not already trying to abrakadabra for myself,- ni angalia mimi, ona hapa, maisha hii hapa ni yangu sitaki kubadilisha, nataka kuendelea kama hii hapa nimejifunzia kuamini na kupenda yangu hapa pia,- look at me, see here, this life here is mine, I do not want to change it, I want to continue like this here I’ve learned to believe and love me here too, mapenzi wangu.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

12.4.18
Soft flame

I am a curious mind and an unfortunate heart brake, I come to my body for advice about things that make the heart ache because I don’t know anything light when it comes to heartbeats, I have outbloomed this more than I can care to admit, I am the type of love that knows its intensity and the burning loyalty of things that keep me this safe, this rush of throbbing is the only intensity I am happy to bare, it reminds me of the good I have done and prompts the good in this world, we dream like lovers are the type to give love a new meaning, we double check with your body, loving dreamers never forget to show we care about your breath, you will never feel unloved in our presence, we’re the type of love that can be too strong for you sometimes you may even feel like you’re covered in honey, we will never apologize for our sweetness, we’re both soft and fire don’t forget, you’re the one who sparked us in the first place.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

12.4.18
draft

Its always a question, a statement of assurance, how the things that learn to keep my body, how the heart is a misfortune in this world, where you find solitude in yourself and keep this body close, how you’re able to let others prey into your sweetest spots just so you can see if they are worthy, how the heart has also learnt to mend and brake at this attempt, you’re the breath of its moments, when you can’t hold it all inside anymore you test its limits and give boundaries no limitations, everything is a gamble now, when you’re this intoxicated on a mind you’re lost in thoughts of how to reconnect and spark its soul, I have always been the type of dreamer that fantasize about love when I feel connections with hearts that become vulnerable at my words, that learn some of my secrets, that know how to tempt me in ways not others can, I am left with questions when I feel this way and what does my body do, it convinces me that this confession is not the only honeyed truth I need, so I hold my breath and I ask, how is it that you’re able to captivate my entirety in this way I have to know, and then, I press send.

 

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..