Black Sheep

I can go anywhere and find home on my skin
Resting in dew
What’s new
When strangers are blue
Sketched and watercolored onto blocks
I’m an iridescent rock with moss
I wrap my locs when I’m around em
Pretend I’m Medusa, not a bit hesitant
And my shadows vow to move exactly how I move
As I pretend to blend in as if I belonged here
I dodge small talk
I know real voices, true hearts
I’ve mastered how to mirror; starting over less foreign than I
I knew I was alright
I was a locust bite, bitter
In the cool hybrid air
I made my way through the stolen
What I gave away could never keep up
My gift was melted and sculpted
Sometimes I’d call it love

Listen to the soul

Listen closely to the soul
Who only knows the splitting ground
And seeks refuge in the thoughts of others
Wanting nothing more than milk from paradises breasts
Harvested by her own pair of hands

June 27, 2021

I placed a glass of water on my alter and prayed. This weekend without a phone. Silence. Mindfulness. Sadness. I finished the book X borrowed me “Celestine Prophecy”. It left me open and searching.

Right now I am numb, asexual, emotionally unavailable, confident, sure of myself and my experience. Validating this period. I feel as long as I can see my growth no matter how seemingly inconsequential. I have to temporarily cut off X and X for my sanity. It honestly just hurts to be disrespected from them both to the degree that they do. In retrospect life is great.

Ours

All passing

Is ours

Forever

From hand to hand

We pass the cup of eternal life

And you’ll know it well then

You’ll know then, it’ll live forever

Lay down a piece of heart

Of truth

Never dying in the game of death and rebirth

January 15, 2023

I love deep feelings. Feelings that stops you in your tracks. Experiencing feelings with self awareness is even more enticing. I can do this dance and really put my foot in it. Really break a sweat. With the wisdoms of the future as a tether. Although the idea of becoming the crazy lady who wears mumus, cheetah print thongs, reads tea and palms and can tell when you’re lying but makes a game of playing along, is mad enticing.

October 15, 2018

I pray this is the last time I have to break my mothers heart… I can’t think of anything… What is the way? I’m trying to make a relationship work, everything in me tells me it’s wrong, but something is telling me not to give up.

The most difficult part of healing is the era right before the climax when the voices begin to sound the same and you must learn discernment. It becomes a strain to hear the truth; to know right from wrong.

This baby inside me is right, right?

What am I going to do?

Prepare for either and decide later I suppose.

I really need to show up for myself now. I have to prove to myself that I can do it, that I will be a successful mother. That I can be me. Whoever that is.

I pray to find myself.

October 18, 2023

Trying to remember how to forgive and be grateful to those who have caused me harm. They are my greatest teachers, though I pray for more gentle lessons, which I ensure by trying my best to learn and trust my intuition the first time. I will always choose peace, love, and safe spaces. I get it when they say “hate is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die”. I’ve drank that poison. I’m drinking it now, and also healing and actively retraining my brain to stop. It’s an irritating process that requires accountability and moral. Sometimes my ego tries to convince me to match energy. Don’t get me wrong I feel my real feelings and express. but when you know better, you do better, can’t sit in it for too long or it’ll consume you. I used to not mind being consumed, but it gets old when life goes on and you realize suffering is inevitable. Part of life, nature, balance. I vow to not be one of those hurt people that hurts people. Compassion is something one must continue to cultivate. It is a wisdom that contributes to a more positive community…. And now I remember.

“Be the change you wish to see in the world”- Ghandi

March 12, 2017

Remembering

Sometimes I catch a scent; smell something, and I remember having roommates for the first time. My own room. I used to paint my naked vessel and rejoice in what I thought was adulthood. Silly naive me.

Sometimes I hear a song. It takes me back. I feel my belly drop to my toes as my tear ducts instinctively fills up, releasing the sight of my being… In the psychiatric unit having a time. I’ve never felt so safe, so understood. I will never forget my time in X.

All the beautiful lost souls I met and loved. I pray they too found themselves again. My baby, I was so young. I used to feel so sad. I am free from all of that. Hurt, pain. I am sending love to my inner child always.