Made of Moon

The river split all too soon

I was made of moon

So I spared the connection and tuned the loving beast

Who chips it’s nails to soften the beatings

Heavy

I want to be seen through and through

I want to have enough, never stop

There’s pauses in my membrane

I don’t recall the order of fate

How I wish it’d play out

How I pray to erase

Escaping is the back door

Unspoken

I beg my soul to be revoked and

The soul never wanted to carry me anyways

It names me a burden

Dead weight

Hips in heaps of heavy and a bit unsteady

May 18, 2017

I watched the Nina Simone documentary yesterday and I have never felt more reflected. She is the most beautiful woman. Her rawness and vulnerable ways I admire. I feel myself. Pieces of myself I don’t recognize. I see that it’s okay to embrace the darkness. I’ve been living in a fantasy. Paired with the article I read about how unhealthy it can be to live a life in which one strives for positive thinking while ignoring and not accepting negative emotions. I need that rawness, but I’m scared I’ll go back to that dark sad space. So I bury that emotion and pretend to be positive. I’m finding all these emotions blowing up in my face. I need to learn that it’s okay to be sad, mad, and even angry. And to feel it. Feel it all. I need to feel it. Maybe that’s my lesson, to be honest about the way I feel.

I feel I’ve lied to myself in a sense. Using phrases like “everything happens for a reason” and “wabi Sabi” and Buddhist philosophy to transform my thoughts. Although wise; in my case, I find myself on auto pilot on the other side of the spectrum, lying about how I truly feel, coping with addictions. I think I’m ready to embrace ALL of my feelings. Come out the dark side, Mama wants to play. I want to get to know my dark side.

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.

One day

One day see the fruits of my labor
Miracle after miracle
How lightly I’ll float by
I’m sure I wouldn’t even recognize
How slow my mind processes
I’ve been keeping my eyes to myself
Can’t see me
Refuse to see
One day I’ll be a shooting star and won’t be able to help but notice.
I won’t even be able to stop; catch a glance or nothing
The collisions will simply be an after thought as I’m smoking a winter spliff

Knotted women

Knotted women
With whipped legs, full
Siren Buddha orphan
Four fingers and red mats
Brown squares under their eyes
Lives down the street some tag and sway
Knotted women prefers it this way

King bed in clams
Pearls replacing pupils
Pills and a nice white
Did a promise keep them
A fellow hand wrapped in silk and wool

The sun cleanses knotted women
Bathing child
Swimming in muscle memory
A letter is nothing
A minute a mile away

Knotted women don’t keep time
Don’t use things how they’re suppose to
Right brained
Hair pulled brick by brick
Dreaming to touch Jupiter if they make it
Shiva in the Himalayas

Knotted women are Satis’ sacrifice
A severed limb
Mermaids live with them
They call each other sisters
It soothes all the soil and turmoil
It inspires miracles
Knotted women

I often find myself

surrounded by

books and papers

lovers expansion