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

In a year One, 27=9

Returning to self
Year One
Year Twenty-seven
Two plus seven equals nine
The beginning and the end of..
My heart/ My grief/ My loneliness/ My faith/ My integrity/ My trust/ Birthrights/ My abundance/ The empty/ The full/ My sovereignty/ This paranoia/ New softness n rest/ Introductions to hate/ reintroductions to self love/ Sowing seeds/ Reaping harvest/ My purpose/ More grief/ n Love/ n Discernment/ n Blunt honesty/ n Holding space/ Spring cleaning/ Clear paths/ Generational wealth/ Longevity/ Fertility
.
The soil is wet
I will follow me
And I pray to remain sane as I’m
Beginning, beginning
Always ending
Always purging and making space
What no longer serves me has no place in my presence
With ease
Filling me
Seeing
Me
In a shade never discovered
Most ain’t serving me
Most won’t save me
Like moths to a flame
Disclaiming, you may not be able to swallow what you see
But to see
Me
Learning and
Listening
Solitary
Moving gently cause Twenty-seven is sacred
Twenty-seven is pivotal
The turning point
Facing myself
Pricking myself
Peeling myself
Burning of self
Healing
Myself
And yet
I’ve never felt stronger
An aureate light
Fight before flight
Earning perineal roots & my grey hairs
I’ve never felt as whole
Within the peaceful madness
Grateful sadness
Chaotic order
I discovered
Myself
Here and now
For when you know yourself truly and deeply
You move different. You get to exist without a care in the world. You get to trust and believe in everything you are.
The magic
The prophecies
The soil
The tears
The sun
The blood
The moon
The rain
Actions done in vain
The angels and the saints