Freegrandmaa

here i sit all alone

smelling liquors cutting my soules on broken phones

hold me tightly the one that remains

for why i’ll lie only tonight

ahhh now I think its alright to give in to give in

yeah

cause nearly everything I touch cringes

and sorrow never fell from my heart

to say

I don’t like my hands

and I don’t want anyones hands in replacement

I mean sometimes I do

but only to bit them, pick their fingernails, dip them in mud

recently I’ve been weaker parts of my mind has melted, others boiled away

no I don’t think its alright

and I no longer makes sense

if I’m here dead and to a crisp

then so it shall be just don’t admit me

cold stone

lemon bitter

broken back

withering skin

choked instead of speaking

running rivers

cracked nose

there is no joy

burnt fingertips

points only to me

to me, to me

to me

to me

these bleeding wounds

lead only to me

Every day I’ve made it a habit to express what I was grateful for. Be it a meal, a beautiful day, or simply having a shower to clean myself in, I wrote down every blessing I received almost every day, the beauty I saw, and every privilege I had. The more I thought about all I had, the less I cared about what I didn’t. I began to check myself when I noticed I was complaining about something I didn’t have and wanted. I checked my wishes, and my prayers. Because I now was grateful. I found freedom and peace while thinking about the simple pleasures and luxuries of my world. Clean water, easily accessible water, electricity, access to soulful organic foods, I refused to let myself be ungrateful because I was broke, or homeless, or because our government and world is all kinds of fucked up. I was grateful to simply have shelter, and food to eat, to wake, to be healthy and alive, and for my loved ones to have the same.

Expressing gratitude has kept me grounded, humble, and during low times gratitude has uplifted and kept me alive. It’s easier to accept that I am here for a reason, and that I am still blessed when I can live to see the sun rise and set another day. My reasons to live are simple, as a result my life is simple, and my happiness is easier to obtain. Sit me down in front of an open sky and I am pleased… I live day to day, minute to minute simply because I’m consistently amazed and mindful of the beauties at any given moment, because I know that this life I live is eternally a privilege regardless of what troubles or stresses I may have in my world. When I can go home and be showered with the love of my siblings, when I remember those friends that helped me and uplifted me at perfect timing. I am blessed. I saw after peering my head over my fence of chaos, I had a whole field of blossoming flowers waiting to be sniffed, the grass is greener on the grateful side as you will find nothing except abundance.

I’ve found its easier to wake up, easier to love, easier to accept and see the truth when you daily are expressing your appreciations to the world. It’s easier to notice the uniqueness of each day, the beauties of each day, as well as each person. I see gratitude as medicine to a yearning soul. She puts her arms around you tightly so that you may be reminded that you are watch over, that you are heard, that you are blessed. Just train your eyes to notice the little things, the itty-bitty things, the microscopic things. No abuse, no trauma, no hate in the world can bring me to my knees in helplessness again, because gratitude reminds me. Now I am a minimalist, I don’t need much, and it doesn’t take much to please me. It’s easy to make me happy, as a materialistic Taurus even, it’s impossible for me to find joy in material things or acquiring new things. I am more in tuned with my sensual side, my happiness is based on all that I have, the privilege to experience, the privilege to witness. I only desire the beautiful free experiences of life simply because I don’t want anything extra. I don’t need anything extra to be happy. I wake up in a safe place, I can walk through my city in peace (sometimes), I got food to eat, my loved ones are healthy, I have a wonderful job that I love and am appreciated at. What more do I truly NEED? in this exact moment, nothing, I’m good.

So today I am grateful. Grateful for life’s simple beauties. Grateful for my health and loved ones’ health. Grateful for the roof over my head. Grateful for my evolution and the evolution of others. Grateful for all the love I see and receive online and off. Grateful for this toilet I’m currently typing on. Grateful for the water imma wash my hands with. Grateful for all the teachers in my life. Grateful to be alive…. So, what are you grateful for?

And I saw the light. As you sit across from me with it in your hand, outreached, my eyes begging

Me to believe

to acknowledge the truth. As I look into yours; there is a faint, a slow deterioration taking place of everything that I thought was. Hush Hush Hush. How do you speak and get through to the creatures swinging. Back and forth. Back and forth within my head, feeling threatened, agitated. It is only in the slightly awakened light it becomes obvious. That although deep, how weakened they truly are. Reluctantly disintegrating into the flames that is your love.

That is my love.

And I saw the light. And I ask only that you continue to shine it upon me, my skin is frail. Can you spare it, if only for a moment. Remind me maybe of the truth you hold, and how I want it so. In your flames, burning away is agonizing, and it’s your arms that give me comfort while dying.

And so I see the light. Never wanting. Never desiring it as I do now. The lies of the never deserving to be unraveled and chipped. I allow the poison to be scorched for as long as it may take.

For as long as it needs.

Till it no longer resides in my heart

Everyday I look into pairs of eyes, and onto their noses and then to their mouths until my eyes have completely dissected and devoured the concept of them being.

Just like me, here you are. Oh what beautiful wonders of the world taking place.

With every inhale.

Every Exhale.

I believe that once again, yes the world is beautiful, as the inhibitors are. The experience of being human is so intricate in itself and within us all I am the only one. You are the only one. He is the only one.

Here we all are trying to figure out “how to life” at the same time, on this infinite spectrum of existence.. I spend my days in admiration as I see some evolving into beings who no longer need to be governed and think for themselves. People who are choosing now to live their lives in accordance with their own perceptions of happiness..The meaning of life is beginning to vary. The way life is lived is shifting..With the shift in global consciousness the accepting of Individuality is rising. Humans are hearing their divine callings, listening to the yearning of their souls and pursuing abundance, and minding their business if “it don’t flow”.

I find solace in knowing our lives aren’t meant to mimic, but to be reflected upon others in your uniquely divine way. It helps me look to people in admiration instead of looking at them with bitterness.

I’m not the kind of sista you’d wish to be

I’ll taint you like a blood stain.

on that.

white blouse.

That you like to wear only on Sundays

and the church won’t permit me to exist so I bleed

Forever flowing

I ran a river so deep and I pray that this black hole will cleanse me

I’m filthy sticky plastered

a bastard

a bit chaotic but I don’t show at least

at peace it seems but.

I’m not the kind of sista you’d wish to be

I appreciate these moments. laying on a palette in my van in a auto shop parking lot, sipping on wine, smokin ganja, writing poetry. it’s simple. it’s nice. it’s me. in my natural habitat i stay. nude. natural. honest. Alone. I feel like some people struggle to find those sincere moments. fearful of being their unfiltered self. Unfiltered. Belly bloated. scabs exposed. Summer sweaty body. What are we afraid of? Your own judgement. inflicted insecurities? Your ego? out of all of the nonsense deemed socially acceptable; or for lack of a better word “normal”, why is rawness not? fully concealed intelligence? I often find freedom in these times. Free to write. Free to have a conversation with myself aloud about whatever i please. No ones listening, and if they are i hope to be an inspiration of the comfortability with ourselves that we should all house within. i hold no shame. no embarrassment in. being me. its me. and i do what i fancy, when i fancy when im alone i can do anything. sing songs as if i wrote them myself, play with my rolls, my breast. sip all the wine my heart desires. laugh at my memories. revisit my lovers. Daydream about the infinite. This rawness grounds me, and brings me peace and comfort when the external is draining. My body and mind are solely mine. for my amusement, for my pleasure. Society tells me to conform and be self conscious about my unique thoughts and ways of being. Well my thoughts give me permission to be naked, tipsy, jammin, writing in my van at 2 am so imma follow that instead. Fuck. Just be.

why do the crowds jump hurdles

broken legged and limping

double jointed shoulder blades

forever overlapping
our faces

and me

the truth would let us be

in longevity

in a world of choice

a country of manipulated freedom senses

we choose the life of others

of our past reincarnations

we replicate tainted decisions

instead of creating our own

inventing new lives and dimensions onto fresh births

centuries we settle to shadow

 to the depths of ungrown land 

identical land reveals

 to mimic

in a world of options

we willingly decline our freedom to create

burning the right to generate with the flag

a place of coexistence and peace

On some nights my home shakes with the wind. Threatening to topple over and twirl with the blizzard. It takes punches for me and I am thankful. Because some homes resemble holey blankets and concrete sidewalks.

Some nights my toes numb as I suffocate myself beneath the layers, underground some nights I wish. For survival and if the universe is feeling giving, a sense of comfort. Some nights I find my vessel shaking as my base does, some nights, leaving my vessel with cramped joints on vibrate. Honey I’m can’t afford to be cold, I’m surviving. I force myself to stay still, but only for a moment because my body knows that this isn’t about comfortability, it’s about survival.

Survival doesn’t care if some nights my thoughts poses a threat to my mind. Survival doesn’t care if you cry yourself to sleep, wishing to drown away, wondering if your tear ducts would hold you. He doesn’t care if people stare. He really doesn’t give a fuck. He isn’t bothered with addiction, withdrawal, or a broken heart. To see the sun once more, to take one more breathe is his only concern. And for that I am in love with him, I have to be, in order to see another day, to continue to be. Some nights I wish to break up with him and I would pray to grow the courage, to say fuck surviving. I’m tired of walking against the wind. Earthquakes scare me and I don’t want to be alone. This small space is strangling me and reminds me of my misfortune and I no longer need what I needed. NO longer want what I wanted but to cease. Yet comes witching hour, my eyes closed, lungs holding small long breathes. Then everything is gone. And life doesn’t exist here. I can climb through many dimensions and find paradise and smile.

Some nights my home shakes beneath me to the rhythm of my body. Am I must remind myself I’m need to survive. I’m need to live.