Glimpse
In those deep brown eyes, a foreign language
I found a reflection of myself
A dance of identities intertwined
Our bloodline meeting in a strangers glance
Both captive and captivated
We read our stories, our selves, together
Nervous system
your mind is your weapon
do you have it
know how to use it
gather like minds
heal together
talk it through
cry
hold
find yourself
each other
commit and rebuild
brothers and sisters
descendants of the greatest warriors
Blocking air
Hunger
he consumed me
as his last breathe
savored my flesh
breakfast
lunch
dinner
and he loved me till my bones ached
are we not all worthy of somebody
Natural disaster
After the storm
He cries
Having no honor in his display
So she lays around lighting sage like it’s a cigarette
He sweats now not understanding
He likes to talk
She likes to walk
She pretends she doesn’t feel his stutters
And he denies she knows where he comes from
Not knowing himself from the outside
He is
A natural disaster
Grown lady
Having babies
With modern men
Oh what a sin
Prayer & knees
Help me see the truth
Honorable truth
Svāhā!
Help me find clouds comfort
rain forest peace and spring stability
Svāhā!
Help me become my true self; honor my Ori
Svāhā!
Help me learn my lesson the first time I am stung and broken
Never look back and never think twice unless you can feel the moons rejoicing
Svāhā!
Help me remain confidently strong and stronger as obstacles match success
Life is scary but I am a vulture
Svāhā!
Help me release my anger as sun passion alchemizing the rays and pains
Svāhā!
Help me mend my heart don’t let me fall apart
even if Im begging
Svāhā
I don’t like to yell
I don’t like to yell
But I love to break the silence
To penetrate
It’s the first breath
The tip of birth
And you can’t find that kind of moment in movement and stimulation
Go silent for a moment
Svāhā!
Climax
Hands full of prana
Roar through your pores in the safest place
Feel the goodness and the horror
Accept it and become more than vessel
I don’t need to yell through pressure when I’m molded because of it
I like to whisper and pray in my head by my lonesome next to a river under a bridge or something
I don’t want anyone to hear me either, not now it’s too late now
And jokester is my middle name
I got it from my father and they got yelling from our mother
But I
I don’t like to yell
How to connect
Slow connections make me uneasy, but perhaps they are the healthiest. Perhaps these passionate beginnings are tactics used for benefit by leeches and vampires. They tend to like my blood the most. Perhaps slow connections should be preferred. To see, trust and remind myself of who I am. Like one step at a time. An unknown. I’m not so sure what I’m supposed to be learning or doing.
Freegrandmaa 