6/21/2018

The night is alive with possibility
The suspense is killing me
Lightning strikes a pose
And thunder comes to me
deeply
Seeping through atmosphere
Home is here
Home is where a gaze holds you safe and a shoulder keeps you steadfast
Cognitive dissonance
I cannot live with this policy ripping through my arteries, this image won’t stop coming to me
A 9-months old baby
In an orange jumpsuit
In a cage in a city
Unclaimed, unwritten, undocumented, unforgiven for the sins of colonialism
Unforgivable
Where were you when ****** branded the Jews?
Then you are accountable too

adjective

1. i never asked to be like this, consumed utterly. when i run out of ink i dip my quill in my own veins and scratch out beautiful, ethereal, unutterable words in crimson. passion and pain are interchangeable in my mind, each one bleeding into the other and through each other.

2. words forge my palace and my prison. i compose poetry and story and power, like a creature possessed. my pen flies across the page, like it has a mind of its own.

3. i run out of space on the page in front of me, filling my notebook, filling innumerable napkins at various cafés with half-formed thoughts and unintelligible scribbles. i ink 3am inspirations and epiphanies on my skin, up and down my arms, a living testament to my obsession, my mania.

4. i must move mountains and i have a teaspoon for a *****.

h.f.m.

Boys will be boys, will be men, will destroy
Will take and take what you create
Will shame you if you deviate
Will make the rules they proceed to break
And after every encounter, you're a little more shaken
A little more autonomy from you has been taken

You rack your brain to find the words to demonstrate just how it hurts
Time passes - and the moment is gone
They were staring at your ***, and you know it was wrong
You know you don't belong
You are an object for observation
But that's a whole different song

So does it make it any better when you play along?
Are you simply playing victim in a manmade system?
A child of the Fight, how do you extract from that mode?
In a world full of players, you let yourself be taken
How is it that you manage to let the simple words break in?
The glass ceiling is surprisingly sharp
And the burden on your back gets heavier as you approach
The child in the closet didn't make it this far

There's a fine line between honoring your wounds and hiding in the dark
This is the line I walk every day
On one side, victim and healer, I tend to my wounds
The other lives in reality and makes the right moves
But duality is a falsity
Of course one can't be two
And the structure I see in the world I perceive brings out the fight
**** the patriarchy
**** the Right
They're not right
Their vision is just limited

There are so many issues I wish to address
If I cry through the fight, does that make it worth any less?
Does my brokenness somehow discount the rest?
The weight of my burdens change by the day
And yes, victimhood is the easiest way
May I be the last to place blame
This glass house holds no shame
And if you won't throw the stones at the broken and stuck
Pass them around and throw them straight up
Let's all make the ceiling shatter and fall
And watch now as the shards rain down
And this can happen when we're all ready to be active
And act as protagonists in our own play
So **** the patriarchy, but do it in your own time, and in your own way

9/2/2017

Sure, i was young and stupid
Its a good excuse its not nice to think you would make the same mistake twice
Im older now, more wise
At least, thats the narrative i live by
I wont be stupid again like that time
I wont misjudge a snake for a vine
I wont get bit, i wont cry
My boundaries stand high
Noone unworthy gets by
So dont even try

I will find good people, make good love
No more stupid mistakes, no more fuckups
My old self was sweet but messed up
Im stronger now, better at coping with stress
Less *******, more truth

But is that really how you wanna feel about the younger you?
The one that made it through?
The little kid that stood up time and again
When depression exacerbated everything she felt?
Who made it through her own hell?
Well, maybe its healthier to belittle her than to feel helpless
But know that she was glorious herself and
She was wise and well equipped
To cope with reality's *******
She survived the hellish
Stayed vulnerable, wasnt selfish
Hell, if thats what you wanna trivialize, be my guest
But just remember to say thank you
Because if you are better, its because she was the best

9/17/17

You break, you rage, you hide from yourself
You go to work inert
You write, cry, eat, divert
Write poems and lists and tools
It gets better 
Just watch your monkey brain chatter
Next time you will be better
She said read the list of cons every time he tries to contact you
You see its ron calling then read all the wrong things he did to you
Its a way to train your monkey brain to reconsider its attitude
Reactions are automatic trails straight back to you
Addiction is a pathway, cold turkey is the best path to choose
I used to use but ive been two months true

And we move on

In the medical field, we say
See one, do one, teach one
I saw, i did, i taught
I hid, i undid, i thought
I was free
But freedom is fleeting
And catching it defeats its meaning 
I mean i think im seeing
I intend to be teaching
Because learning hurts
Growth spurts
Its a steep curve
Sometimes it only seems to get worse
But its worth it in the end
Thats what they say
The only question then
Is who says "when?"
And how long do I have to wait?

When i think of all the people i love
If i were to die tonight
Theres a lot who wouldnt come to mind
But who gave me light
Theres ppl who wouldnt even make my list
But who have made my life livable for at least a little bit

All the things you think youd never do
Things that would never happen to you

**
I would never
I said
I wouldnt ever
I thought
Im living a joke
At least i can laugh
Thats my joy and my craft
I do ****, ive been thru ****
Im not proud to admit
But i love myself always
Thru all of it
Forgiveness is hard
Moving forward is harder
One step forward
That ones a non-starter
Is it in the cards or
Is this pain just fodder
For my art or
Am i really moving

Tell me god
How am i doing?
Were you a **** up like me?
Did you **** Mary of Magdalene?
Did your parents disapprove?
Were you in love, unmoved?
Unshaken by the fear and hatred
By the biases that make people say ****

You lived with the sinners
You must have been one
Is my line in the sand thinner?
What misdeeds did you consider?

Tell me. Am i like you?
Were your senses alive? All five?
Did you embrace them or hide?
Did you hate your skin?
Or did your sensuality thrive?
Did you never touch your disciples
With amorous love?
Almighty, human, spirit, dove

How can you be human
Without being broken?
Without hurting and being hurt, your claim is token
Cant have spoken on the human condition
Without having lived it
Without having given and taken 
What is this life for
But to **** up and love more?
To tip the balance to love over hate
To hurt people some, play the *****
Learn your goodness aint innate
It grates on my nerves
Claim to serve
Cling to words
In a book used to curse
The broken and hurt

What the **** is life worth
If you dont get to live?

Lord forgive me my sins
Forgive those who sin against me
And let me fall into temptation
Deliver me to evil
For that is our kingdom
Humanity's glory
Amen