∆ Neural Alchemist | Self-mythologist ∆
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
Cotton pink undertones
Close by with gentle age
She was creamy, so soft
My eyes sparkled as we met
Pixie baby looking all confused
Going for a ride with mine
I sit silent
I study her magic
The way her skin rainbows
The concern in her delicate sweet face when I leave
I inhale and exhale like the goddess I am
I am connected like the earth I am made of
And my skin vibrates as the sun
This long walk up
I am grateful to wake up. I am grateful for this watermelon. I am grateful for a toilet and clean water.
I am miserable. I want space from everyone. I’m tired of this life. How can I start over, how can I erase all that is. I’m sick of my lover. I’m tired of shitty; empty, fake ass people betraying myself and second chances. Let me not attract anyone. Let me say forget the world, I don’t want to share it with anyone.
I don’t want to be pregnant. I don’t want to get to know anyone. I don’t want to make friends. I don’t want to be around anyone. I don’t want to.
Poor baby.
I’m sorry I’ve failed you.
I’m sorry I don’t really want you
not like I thought I did
most times not at all.
I have no one to talk to.
No one to hold me.
No one to understand or be here.
Her sun rolled his bouncy ball into a stream on purpose.
Mama goes after ball as her sun cries insistently for his bouncy ball’s return.
In the midst of the haste Mama takes stroller down into stream with her.
Mama and the stroller are in the stream.
All of mama’s stuff gets soaked; her phone, keys, purse…everything.
She grabs the ball and throws it up the little hill.
Her sun grabs it and throws it back in. This happens twice before she’s had enough.
Her sun thinks it’s a game and jumps in too.
She attempts to salvage everything.
Her sun now cries insistently because he notices his waterbottle is floating down stream.
Mama says forget that water bottle.
She regrounds.
She rescues all her belongings.
She takes a deep breath, and sternly tells her sun “get it together”
Then,
She walks down stream and retrieves her sun’s waterbottle.
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.
I’m learning so much about my family since opening my home to my little sisters. It’s been hard but also a big opportunity to grow. Ive decided to recreate my role in my family. Moving away from being just the relatable safe big sister to accepting my role as the matriarch. I’m seeing first hand how these kids are being neglected by parents as well as the education system.
The kids are not the problem. Society is failing these kids.
Growing to be the bigger person to take on the role to guide instead of getting stuck in triggers and ego and allowing us all the remain stagnant. I’m realizing my siblings have no real home training and lack basic respect. I work hard to not blame them for what they haven’t been taught. I find joy at the same time in providing a safe space for them. Goodness though it’s hard being to others what you’ve never received but alas, the fate of the healer I suppose.
So I’ve exploded, perhaps on something light as a feather. All the weight came down. X doesn’t think of the small things. He wants to be what I need but he just isn’t. He has alot to learn, or maybe he’s just used to treating me this way. Used to me allowing it. I know he has work to do because at one point he said he didn’t even know if we were together still. I wanna ask him why or how could he live and sleep not knowing if we were together. He says I’m intimidating. I don’t understand him, he doesn’t understand me. We both know our darkest parts though, so we think we know…
I was waiting for you and you just…
There’s alot of questionable things about him and only he can tap into his subconscious and sort it all out. And I don’t…. I do love him, we both deserve better though.
Woman body don’t give a fuck about that shit
Young self holds the messenger
Hidden burdens are turned to birds and
We learn to hold our sticks and stones and
We fold to break our own arms leading the way to pave
Make ends meet with woman’s meat
What a dog that eats dog girls
Woman’s bodies don’t give a fuck about rocking a foreign world
Key whispers from chosen Gods in dress
Freegrandmaa 