Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

To date. 5.8.19

I confess, I don’t want to admit this too loud, so won’t you come closer, I want to madly share with you what I have found to love as hard as you wish you wouldn’t, I’ve been holding this in so much I am not sure why my heart had began reaching for yours this restlessly now, it feels like for so long we may have thought we would not make it here, and now we may be two souls that have found each other yet again, so my heart is breaking asking me it has to be more than fate, believe that when you have felt like you can’t remain without this feeling too you start to believe in dotting motions like love again, you start to understand that whole bodies are more than a specific guise of a person, I read somewhere that destined to meet mirror each others reflections and I think this might have some sight to it, I never really stopped believing in love I thought love stopped believing in me, funny how love likes to find us late in the morning, likes to wake before the light of a new day, how this feels like long before the beginning of time, strangely uncanny how some of us are as dreamy as passing clouds as hopeful hearts, how we have been found to believe everything happens for a reason, thought you left these floating feelings when you stopped looking up at wishing stars, I find myself writing you into my existence even when I don’t mean to, even when I don’t cast to love you this hard how does a heart loose a love this blue planet of ours, -I gave affirmations the way I breathed into this 3D reality, how canny is spring in late November meeting such an air about her fire-, she knows about what it means to be scared while in love with wounded hearts on paths damned with self, she is living proof, knows we don’t need anybody sometimes we are still scared of being lost or running away, for her much like her anchored planet, for him much like a brave placement into compassion about matters of the heart, a type of softness that doesn’t believe in love anymore maybe they have this in common, her a future and him a past, how cycles learn to repeat its intended sucker, this is all her luck, she can feel all this impatience into her and his hand soft on her heart, he will never know this secret season is so typical, seasonal love ended with him some time near her high feminine vibration she claimed to feel his heart some time ago, a home that is not here, a patient masc with high vibration, his air is a speechless sent and shes back to where she had almost began-, The thing with energy care when it comes to love is that they are the almost explained without mantras, without being motivated by knowledge, reflection and intuition-, A love without being intuitively self aware is a love manifested to be karmic, and maybe this too is still, maybe I am madly wrong and I just can’t seem to let go as much as I think to will it.

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Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

26.7.19 – silver. (Observing) Rain (fear.)

Lately I’ve been thinking about clearly understanding my freedom, how this integrates with my interpersonal relationships, I told my heart I wanted to see this for all it had ready in place knowing I may be asking for too much, when I think about the connection between people I think about when I was ten, I think about what I did to learn how to walk with my mouth panicked, back then I was left to believe that this is who I am and that being quiet was being naive, that being naive was having no voice of my own, I used to write myself into a place I was learning to fit into and more of myself here, I was being taught about how the world works and what it could be without my being existed, I started writing dreams of observational moral sanity, this is where I began trail and error of my true identity, I wrote into worlds that only I knew of and how they could teach me about being here, I found so much ease into myself this way, it wasn’t until I grew into my own world and outside of the reality present that I learnt what a panic attack could look like into me, the nights when my heart was racing and I silenced it without asking about its ache I lost my pree years telling myself to stop feeling, the following nights where I suffocated on my own tongue exhausted from existence right hand on my heart I was telling my breathe to swallow its own hurt, I was never taught what it meant to live through panic attacks and each time I have one now, I use words into myself the way I love, the way I learnt to use into my dream world first, I constantly reminded myself that we have always seen the world for it’s honourable potential, that this is a rare gift, on most days I beg my body for its affection the way I learnt to walk away from heartbeats that know how to break our heart,- On my 24th birthday I wished for my own life and more dreams, I wished for growth and more courage, when rainy days came I counted my gratitude’s so well kept, I told my body look, look how far we have gotten, I remind her that we are stronger together and the artist in me is the child who survived her own volition and fear of out of control-, Sometimes, I will do nothing on days that have learnt to cripple my mental state the most or my mental state or me, having this kind of imbalance reminds best of my senses, it reminds me that being this self aware is worth every drop of our magic, to be live on survival with depression and anxiety into us promises our ability to feel the world this intellectually observant.- With this Spring in Late November, and the help of this worldly reality I will have broken myself tirelessly timelessly to reach my soul, and I would do it all over again.- it hurts.

Entry #15: I want to tell you exactly what happened to me today, while trying to leave the house + you should know this was not the first also psa I usually cry about it alone..

22 july 2019 at around 2pm – 230pm – Spring in late November.

I had built up frustration for months and feeling unsettled within myself, so I set out on this day, a Monday to self care by going to Dymocks at collins st book store to have coffee browse around, read and walk back and forth wanting to buy more books.

My morning started out pretty alight. I was still stuck with that type of uncertainty and off mood/ irritation but honestly I had been waiting for this Monday for a few days now and I was determined to leave the house and head into the city. So I meditated with the headspace app for 10 minutes before I did anything else, gathered my energy to getting ready for my self care day as planned. It took me longer than what I had decided on, I kept doing small things like changing what I was wearing, feeling conscious about how my body fit into my clothes, and wanting to take advantage of the winter sun I put on my make up looked at my eye shadow criticised it so I took it off and applied my foundation over it unhappy but still hopeful, and I packed up my bag pack ready to walk out the front door.

As I closed the door behind me, my headphones in walking to the station I started getting into this mood/ energy that was so strong it started to take over my body. I kept walking and thinking I just need to get onto the VLine and I’ll be fine, I just need to get keep walking I’ll be fine,once I reach I’ll be glad I did this for myself. I needed to believe this so hard. Because I had been staying in my own environment and started to feel stagnant and too comfortable with despair. I walked about nearly half way stopped in my path, looked down I wanted to turn back so hard, its as though my body was begging me with all its got to please turn around and go back and try again with another day locked into my mind. I felt so compelled, I went into the side turn not far from home, stood there and calmly walked back home. I opened the door and I remember thinking I miss seeing my dad, I missed his voice and his big hugs, his laugh and being next to him. So I walked into his space and sat on his chair positioned right outside a window facing our corner backyard. I heard my mum make her way into the space and ask me what was wrong unable to answer her I eventually started crying quietly with my headphones in and her hands wrapped around me. In that moment I knew why I was so upset, I heard words say “I can’t even leave the house” “what’s wrong with me?” my mum asked me again what’s wrong? this time with her eyes red and I just sat there and cried hearing “now you’re worrying her for no reason” I cried some more settled down and walked upstairs sitting on the floor with the sunlight beaming inwards. Mum asked me again something must be bothering you, is it a feeling talk to me I’m here for you is it a feeling she asks again. I look at her my eyes ready to cry again and I say “I don’t know, I don’t know. Im fine, I don’t know what’s wrong.” and I tell her it’s okay I’ll be fine for the fifth time, thinking and knowing I just need time to be alone for a while. And then I got hungry, so I went to an all you can eat with Nadren.

Fatma.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

14.7.19 – rafiki yangu.

Mother tells me you’re too soft, she tells me her love for me is so abundant that she fears those who I allow into my space, thinks I only see others in magic lights and moon dust, and I want to tell her that yes she is right, tell her that my body has known too much to give up on others and myself, I can bare the pain, told her I can forgive most anything but dishonesty, said that there a many of me protecting my home the ways her and dad taught me second, the first is in my choices, when someone asks my home for my care about advice I am a warm lit room that can not refuse their visits, we have also known these types of vulnerabilities so it is not in me to never listen, my voice has been unheard for as long as I am aware, always known as soft, and not fire, I make sure I look my mother in her eyes and say I have always been both, when you feel your home being misunderstood its this pent up battle you have been having with your past and future self, it is not words you can say without carefully observing about its receiver, it is a misfortune of amber blue flames, the words just don’t seem to come out the way you feel them to, is it not enough to exist through these hardships and come out alive but to furiously bury them, you do not remember yourself to be this way, this is not how your light shadow deals with conflict, there are versions of myself and all of us living amongst these happenings, depending on your spirit, watch your lessons well, when you understand your own down falls and raisings first you understand places of yourself you have yet to over grow, your way of keen for knowledge in the most turbulent consistent way it is not for everyone to grasp if not for yourself only, you do not answer to any being first if not for who you’re healing from first, knowledge is becoming of us all it is how we use it and find its access that gives us purpose in the first place, I can truly speak as someone who allows room for others first it is never an easy task to put myself before those who have had space into my heart, as a forceful dreamer I can honestly advise I am not a home that carries predictability well, so when you come for my soft spots I will gladly return the favor in ways you did not know possible, this is not a warning, it is a gift for your home, and your next choice of honesty.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

20.4.19 | Guest.

How do you follow me into my home, I’ve been thinking about what manifestation is, what it could look like in this state, I’ve also been talking out loud trying to remember how to use my words when I am this unexpected, I have always told myself that it’s always going to be okay, that you’re allowed to be here too, when my depression visits it brings all the ache with out the twins, knows how to flood in memories, this type of meeting has always still been this way, has always felt like the very first time, and like the last time, what do you call an insomniac with dreams, an unstable mentality into a life, how do you call it again, I’ve gotten so used to being lost that the word its self has fooled both meanings, everything in me is preparing to shutdown, there are two of me here, what is that name again trauma, healing, these words buried so into me I can’t help them out of me, sometimes I’m scared about it all, I don’t exactly know when its going to end, I’ve been holding onto my pieces picking up its shards my hands bloody, I know there are guests of who I am living here, coming in out as they please, they are sloppy, careless and misunderstood, so caved into harsh words that have never belonged here, you tell yourself not to bring that kind of talk here, we did not agree on these types of unnamed chaos too, my existence feels like its on pause again, somewhere I can not even give myself the permission to do anything but breath between these four walls, this has always been beyond a feeling, I know what it feels like to heal, I know my breath has done gone been here too long we want us back so hard, we still do not like the process of understanding everything when guests are this rude into our home, I still have dreams to bring me back alive and well, want to break all these pieces into more pieces and say look this is how I am made it here too, I am learning courage in so many conversations, learning there are more than two sides to every word, I am teaching myself that it is the best thing to fail and hearing my own plea’s is me condemning me to come into myself as I step outside of who I am, to look at all of me and hand my trauma the key for next time.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Moving on, and letting go (interlude ver) | 6.3.19

Adjective proposition, in narrative motion, both a bold statement and a wish or three away, this is a sitcom of stolen words to help with heart on love, I don’t think there’s a word for what that is, actually there is a word for that, its love, when you care about someone beyond all rationality and wanting them to have everything they want no matter how much it destroys you its love, and when you just love someone you just, you don’t stop ever, even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy even then especially then, you don’t give up, because if I could just give up, if I could just you know take the whole words advice and move on and find someone else that wouldn’t be love that would be, that would be some other disposable thing that is not worth fighting for, this open dialogue I tell myself then remind them who I am of all the affirmations is this true love, also, in this begins a strong heart is needed, a mindful presence of identity customized self worth bring out the two souls roam your body and feel its presence, the thoughts and emotions you’re are looking for are all surrounding your emperor nobility take it, it is all yours, this whole life time, fall in love with intangibles and show off its love, boast about how close you’re to a feeling that is learnt through a soul, you know exactly what I’m talking about, your body has a wellbeing of untouchable enticement, you say you love, let go, you’re a dependable flame to this fire oxygen first, people say they are going to change and it never happens and people go back to old ways and old habits, move on, its not that simple.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Gratitude of love (healing us ver) | 6.3.19

How careful, we steal hearts and glances the way we breathe, we use words to never use them in front of each other and sometimes ourselves how often do we wish to stay this soft a greedy us, are so misguided even to our own who gives us permission first, do we only ever seek words that gratify us from all the misfortune we confine our selves in, could we cry us all the oceans in our blue planet the irony is both intended and a learning effort, how determined are we to fail at love until we understand how close we are to its warmth so we say always, want this kind of love first from the beginning before we give it control, when we are a disciplined flame the smoke carries our sky and we get whispered away by worn down hearts trying to heal themselves too, what are the selfish rules we must come to closure within a body that has both bruises and love, they say what they want, there is no wrong way to love someone, that letting go clears the air, the date spent with a returning body, do we devour in perfection our existence close, in order to let go, how much does it really have to hurt until its all over, how do you let go and move on when oceans are irony of a false affirmations, is this human enough for me, how long does it have to heal, is this way of confrontation in narrative too, from healing people too, healing people with unsure love can they only still heal too, I swore I would not repeat him again so why does it still hurt so much, the catch is either you or not them don’t fool yourself any longer, leave this karmic air alone, set us both free, this is how we belong together too.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Welcome mat (interlude ver)| 4.3.19

Uh I see, so as soon as it stops raining you’ll leave, I hope the rain never stops so I can stay here forever, an interlude of dreamy feelings, I can’t stop thinking about how the words we belong together sounded so out of this world, we had a world together, me laughing through the phone my biggest tease you were worse than me, there were moments where I felt like I could trust this feeling when you got busy I started to feel less of you, you visited my heart but never stayed long enough, every time I saw you I would count the days out weighed by your absence and meet me today’s no call that night it was over and I swore at myself cursing at my heart my mind a bystander of my emotions how could I have hurt myself so much, because of you we have touched clouds and named every passing thought that came in comfort of my soul when you call I will not pick up, you’re an interlude of exit mat bellow my door read the syllables in code I don’t care what you do with them, leave my home alone, don’t call me a second time it is done, I thought of all the love we shared and all the fights we had please try to understand. _turn me into the moon (good luck)

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.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

30.01.19 | My wish.

A conversation with my father and he is telling me flossy words I wished I heard when I was listening to his, wondering if this was the same care he would give the other half of his heart, he always tells me comfort and pillow talks of its okay wished he wishes he could do things differently with us and I want to ask him how it feels to have half of his heart, wishing he praised her the same way he praises god, we’re from two different generations and I wonder how he got to being here, want to see where all this came from, he talks in his own reality and I am still left with questions of where half his heart is left in him, is he okay leaving that kind of warmth this way, where would he ran to, he tells me mental health is important because he found me still up the top of his house one day, I remember it so well since then I wonder whether he knows it is two and not only one, 10 grams away from unstable stability, the children in his life are in half and his blood line is nowhere in this house but in half, I wonder what he dwells on, he talks about death so often I can feel the way he repeats it, this is not the first or last time, I know what it feels like to repeat death into your being so it becomes a familiar taste around here, wonder about his lost and found demons so in half about these waters, the fire in me is blazing bright blue while all the waters try to calm me from the outside, Im not sure if this is the right way to go about it but I let it happen anyway, a panic hits and I am in half most days, wondering what my whole see’s me as, I am half fire half water, whole, where thoughts go when they are misplaced in its home too, my truth is a natural disaster unsafe and serenity, a contradiction of human kind, I take my shot of Kenya coffee close my eyes and whisper mantra’s in the name of love and think, maybe its not so bad here, being a misfit this way too.