If I had to tell myself - prior me,
Sans you,
the preexistent devoid of trauma
Me -
One thing, or a few, is:
Pain is not the worst to come afterwards.
Just as happiness is found within
So is malady and hate.
Mistrust, self-atheism, paranoia
Wether it be your first encounter
Or second, or millionth exposure to hurt
The betrayal - the memory of Me!
Love Me breaks up with Me, too.
Every “in love” experience throughout life
Stays, and it clings to various aspects
Of your body, world and mind.
The model of your life will hold
Their history, their impressions,
All parts of them that were shared with you
Until Me regenerates new environments
To Love in.
Your new community will cradle war -
Reality will be a challenge to decipher.
Me divides into many offspring
Apart by seven years
Quarreling and crying, pitted against itself.
Love will wander as an outlaw.
Every portion of Me is lost and searching
All paths will lead to Love
Yet It is Daunting,
Unforgivable and Horrid now.
‘Thou shall not be bitter or forego newness -
Shall not falter within one’s own,
I will bravely demand vulnerability
In My quest of Me
Until all remain naked, with no room to lie.”
With this new religion, new faith Love found
It will be coy with others,
Until these habits are broken.
Aug 14, 2023
Aug 14, 2023 at 12:03 AM UTC
When, in time, where a moment
Of intense desire tips the jar of elucidation
Sets loose a smoothly sailing stream
Down a hungry throat
To the awaiting gullet stuffed with malaise,
Can the rage of enzymes be heard?
Will the breath of despair, and the wailing brew
Of alcohol make peace in silence,
Or is the feat of the battle proclaimed in slurs?
When, in time, will the meager klinks of newborn knees
Ring as explicitly as creaks in an ancient house?
Will screams of hunger conceive compassion
Or should thee be mocked and exiled
To recover from the blithe shame of dependency and impatience?
Hear the sounds tread in darkness
Pleading, crying in the embrace of frigid walls and sterile corners.
Record the rhythm of footsteps
Echoing and fraying -
Taste the smeared sweat of exertion.
Count the patches of lost paint
Stolen and stowed beneath polished nails.
Hold me similarly while I recover.
Show me while I regain sobriety that I was caught
When, in time, I was lost in misery.
Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 3:13 PM UTC
The rules of this game are clear.
It wins, typically;
A calm revoir
Imorisoned by a mind caught in rapture
In exile, persuades itself to be mute -
It recons with stealth during confession
Forges allegiance amongst its armies
For the sake of survival, and marries
The other which has proven to be insidious,
Ambitious!
Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 5:36 PM UTC
I'm finding it hard to digest these seeds planted in me
It's just not the right climate
For these sprouts to form rigid
Skins, and protrude through the dirt
This *** is barren and desolate.
Once in the spring I felt a bud bloom from these
Sweet caresses, oh I leaned in to soak up the medicine
From this foreign sun -
Light I'd been swimming in.
It grew and grew
Rose and slouched when it needed to
When these kind words faltered with truth
And this wind was too strong to master
Flower, subdued
For the night;
If I knew of the petals that would grow, this sweet flower
Sticking to you - inclined towards you
Would wither and grow grey,
Jasmine loses its color when the season doesn't stay, we grew fond of you.
The new, the pollination, my roots
This milk ran clear - oh, it grew and it grew
Wild flower in me is hard to digest because it's meant for two.
What can I be and what can I do?
Jasmine will always be fragrant and rich
Roots entangled, petals upturned
Growing in bunches, leaves left to spare
No room is wasted
But overcrowded, but
No one is in need of perfume.
Time is dwindling, nature is blue and patient
Bees are forgiving and gentle in hue
But no sharp words
No love so cold helps these seeds grow
My garden is land that cannot produce, or
Waken these seeds that are buried, and scared to brave the temperature
Flowers stay hidden, too.
Oct 9, 2020
Oct 9, 2020 at 8:39 AM UTC
My ears and my mind focus on the cicadas
Their cries erupt from their bellies in chorus
The sound of rubber sweeping the asphalt, townsmen racing across the bridge to escape the water.
The sunset was beautiful
hues of pink, orange and warm peach stretching across the horizon -
I watched the sky live minute after minute in the water's reflection, and I wanted to fly in that world
To be at peace in the depth until the glow of heaven's light reveals me in the reflection,
To jump in and leave the docks above me.
Oct 9, 2020
Oct 9, 2020 at 8:35 AM UTC
Woodland gardens, in their clunky brown depth
Of wet, powdered strings soiled in sap
The raw scent of shapeless red clay lost and wondered -
Where I, remember briefly, catching a glimpse of a bear
Or rather it's fur.
Mingled in the concert, a blur of peculiar bursts of noises
Struck with no identity, whimsical and plain
The songs of festivities -
Cool, romantic winds fueled the ferris wheel
As the man pressed flatly in pools of his own vitality
Broke my heart into orbes of fear and empathy.
If you watch closely
You'll come to know that men won't lie when you're listening
They won't hide.
You'll lie for them to yourself when you catch your eyes closing.
Oct 9, 2020
Oct 9, 2020 at 8:31 AM UTC
My words don't hit home for me anymore.
They don't hit home like they used to.
The brisk stabs of pain sprawling,
Stretching inwards, a sternness in my hips
Hunt for a budding takeover in the center of my pelvis,
This stomach ache performs a concert
In my system at full volume, and my walls?
Those are gone;
The racket of this band mangled my flesh -
Stretch marks and wrinkles and splotches of damaged skin,
A colony of bruises like water and mold beneath dried paint.
The belly of this wave folds and quivers
And each time I try to be free of this;
Before, I could ***** it out.
Before, my chills - that cool, clammy sweat -
Would break at a night's turn.
In burps and in sneezes and in gurgles
My words would slip off my tongue as bile
Would rise in my throat at the command of my gag,
And they, my words,
Would flow through the cartridge of my pen like ink
Awaiting the heat of my palm to paste them onto paper -
My words' release would exude a warmth down my body like ginger tea
But, none of this happens anymore.
I feel no heat
No comfort.
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 8:05 PM UTC
With every passing of a reflective surface
I look for my face in all.
Each one unrecognizable
Each one undeniably plundering me -
My image, my mind
Into a frenzy of traumatic shock
Because this person,
This person travelling in my belongings
My effects,
Seems to morph and blend in the irises of whoever is seeing me,
Of whatever Jasmin their perception manifests
From what they know
Or have been told,
About me; and
For whatever thing I may be lacking in grows numerically,
The girth swelling and expelling carelessly -
Whatever bits don't fit the Jazmynn, or the Lily, or the Gardenia me,
But I'm stuck.
I'm stuck in my own mind,
And my mind holds many eyes
Of varying colors and windows,
Some sore and some blind - (And)
As I walk I rate my reflections,
I grade on beauty and demeanor and expression
So when the following moment or day arises,
I can adopt whichever vision suits best.
At some point, I must have put Jasmine on trial,
I must have worn her at some time
And discarded her just as quickly
Because she wasn't as trendy as Lily or Gardenia
And the creatures whose eyes I'm borrowing in my mind did not allow me to keep her.
But if I (no matter the version) had known,
I would not have been able to protect her
Or preserve her,
Jasmine would not have belonged to me -
I would not have known how to convert her and her space in my world
Because hers exists only within a frame
Possessing a finite amount of eyes and windows;
But if Jasmine were looking at me
She would see the same -
Some, such reflective surface
Drunkenly distorting each portrait of what she was supposed to be;
Even still,
We would not have known to keep each other in mind.
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 10:29 PM UTC
7am - Sun sits up in bed
Her fiery tresses stretch beyond my vision
And she yawns across the globe
Giving all else a lead to follow in her glowing shadow
The most delicate, wavy lock
Sways and dances like a pianist
She strikes the keys of my heart strings until my fingertips
Creep to the warm surface of the window
Where I can feel her so near to me -
But I'm restricted
Prevented from this lust
Oh it's not new to me
My skin prickles in sweat as my desire to touch overcomes me
But he's right there.
Walking the length of my thigh
Where his fingers curl inward beneath the bend of my knee
His gentle squeeze unlocks the feeling
Of what I imagine touching Sun would be
An exchange of heat between two bodies
When they meet
A mastery of intimacy swimming in my veins
Coursing through me and suddenly
I'm engulfed with his scent -
A simmering brew of chestnut and vanilla
With a twinge of sour
The taste of fresh bitterness and ground beans
His caffeine is the river I float in for about a 3 hour drive
As Sun gazes from behind this window that we share -
She rises silently and strides away in jealousy
While the stinging heat of her lust
Beats away at the window
Desperately trying to touch me.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
Fear
Run, run, destruction awaits,
From divinity devils fall,
Atop one’s head indeed,
Absorbed with ease,
The angels swarm about the knees,
Pulling, pulling
At gravity.
~
It’s shaking me,
I haven’t seen much of what’s been pulling me,
Trying and fighting for this grip not to defeat me,
Harboring,
Wondering how it got inside of me,
Bottling, waiting for it to start changing me,
And I don’t know –
Tell me what you see inside of me,
Is it you?
Some kind of pain from what you’ve been through?
Say it,
How do I take up designation apart from you?
Share with me,
What am I supposed to do?
It’s a risk,
Struggling to find the courage to try and fix it,
To lose touch with myself and scare away the damaged bits.
What am I besides the things I’ve been through?
Or can I be more than just capacity,
Potentiality,
I guess I never identified my own identity,
I sit on the shelf and wait for you to label me,
Price check, I guess I’m assigned my own value,
Put me up for sale instead cause no one wants to bargain me
On my behalf –
Sorry, let me bow and apologize for not helping
I am trying to find something, it’s rising to the surface of
What you said,
What he did,
Ordering and sorting through your mistakes,
Which is something I never got to make and now I’m learning,
Compared to better cause I wasn’t perfected,
Choking on my DNA cause I despise the taste of it – but wait
Isn’t that a reflection of you?
Isn’t what you made me into a small part of you?
Ruined and battered and ***** and always flavorless
I’m sorry, Mama
I know you want to eradicate this
But for myself I need to deliver this message
I wanted the chance to be a creator, too
I wanted the chance to walk in my own shoes
And now I have –
I’m trying to set myself on my own path
Free of you –
Surpassing the limits of what you allowed me to do,
And I’ll never be free
Cause the part of me that you reached,
Will always have you there
The infection you are heals in to my scar, you’re tissue
Fabricated into the realm of my love so I’ll never be rid of you,
But soon enough
I’ll learn how to paint over you,
So I can mend
And others will recognize you as something that can be breached, too.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 6:12 PM UTC