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samasati Jul 2013
tongue-tied butterflies, the tickling flutter inside
but it’s not the good kind,
it’s the sucker-punch kind that makes you nauseous and want to stay in bed
all day
looking out your window until your heavy hulk eyelids snap shut
and you dream of the fantasy
where you are not this wretched, evil or confused and
everything makes sense there

all you do is dance with one person underneath the leaf-canopy of a sycamore tree

you kiss and your bellies rumble with laughter, for each other, with each other

and when the other scurries off to do their own thing, you are alone,
but you’re alright
because you’ve seen what you look like in the mirror, and you’ve never been so pleased with yourself

the meaning of love in this faerie land forest is to simply, be, as you are
with nothing but yourself
nothing but your hands,
nothing but your eyes
nothing but your heart

it’s the sparking connection, touching someone else, and seeing their lips curl into the most vivacious grin

it makes love special but it doesn’t make love, for you already are such, regardless of another’s breath

I awaken at the sound of chirping birds, my window still glowing of
shady sunlight
tongue-tied butterflies, the tickling flutter inside
but it’s not the good kind, it’s the sucker-punch kind that makes you sick,
waking you up
to reality
3AM
samasati Nov 2012
3AM
It’s 3am and it’s fiercely windy outside – so my rattling window tells me.
I’ve pulled up my blinds and have set my vanity chair in the middle of my room to watch the trees sway with vigorous grace.
It looks like they’re having an anxiety attack.
They’re dancing to cope with the battles of the weather.

They’re scared.

Scared their trunks may snap and they’ll die.
They won’t die, they never do – but they’re still scared they will.

They’re silent too.

Silently swaying scared.
They’re so beautiful.
Their silence is beautiful.
Their silent fear is beautiful.

They are so real, I can relate.
samasati Aug 2012
I opened my eyes and saw fireworks
how silly, I thought

those are street lights
I could’ve sworn they were fireworks

ripples of rhapsody saturating through my skin

*******
did you know, you’re my favourite person to kiss?

the sweet-gentle ones and the devoted-amore ones
the quick-teasing ones and the I’ve-gotta-take-a-breath-now ones
the infallible tongue and the soft grazing of lips
your hands lowering all the way down to my hips

we are a tidal wave merging in and out of the ocean

unity

harmony

zeal

I don’t care if we’re in a car, it’s nirvana all the same
heaven and azure

all the particles of my body click into place and everything
fits together
like a bowl of summer fruit

I opened my eyes and remembered
where we were

I opened my eyes and remembered
we existed
samasati Sep 2012
Dear You,

You are divine. You are so sweet and precious, if only you knew what it’s like to witness you laughing like nothing else matters but the nice tingling joy swelling inside of your being. Your joy is contagious and it ignites warmth in my heart.

You are remarkable. The pure resonance in your voice meets an angel’s when you speak from your heart. I love the sound of your truth. I love the sound of what you like to share about yourself. And when you feel shy or a bit ashamed of what you speak of in front of others, I still think you’re great, because you’ve got the guts to try.

You’re beautiful too. You’re beautiful when you know it and you are beautiful when you don’t know it. I love it when you know it because you smile a lot more. Your smile is one of the most beautiful things about you. Your nose crinkles and your eyes squint and your teeth are exposed. You look so vulnerable and strong at the same time, it’s mesmerizing.

Also, you are mighty talented! When you do something you love to do, you are creating bits of unique love and sending them into the universe for everyone to enjoy. Your creations are brilliant, because you made something that has never been made before. That’s amazing! Your passions guide you and help you grow in such fantastic ways. When you doubt yourself, you’re pulling away from enjoying yourself. There is so much to enjoy about you! Everything you’ve created has you in it, isn’t that spectacular?

And it’s okay to deny all of these things about yourself, because that’s a very human thing to do. If we didn’t know what it felt like to fail, then we wouldn’t even understand the feeling of success, nor would we try to achieve it. It’s funny though, because you are always succeeding, just by being you! You are even succeeding when you think you’re failing because you’re trying and you’re breathing and you’re living. You are so complete and self-sufficient, even when you forget that you are. You are a whole, unique human with whole, unique thoughts and feelings. You get to be a part of this world and share such sincerely beautiful, wise and joyous things that have the ability to inspire other people and help them heal! Wow. You can help others heal. You can help others create. You can help others grow. Just by being who you are.

It’s mind-blowing really.
samasati Sep 2012
she was feeling very lonely
as she walked through the forest
until
she said to the trees,
''i am alone.''
samasati Aug 2014
I'm sure my mother breastfed me enough
& coddled me when I gave up on ever cleaning my room
and keeping it clean for longer than a week
after she'd clean it up for me

I'm sure I've always preferred taking baths instead of showers
because I like taking my time
submerging my body in a divine
warm pool of pausing life for a minute because I need to breathe
and procrastinate the stressful mess I've made

I'm sure I'm afraid of confrontation and telling the truth
when it means someone will hate me
even if I know it doesn't matter what people think,
I'm sure it's an instant mirror that shows me something about myself
and monsters are supposed to stay under the bed, not inside of my subconscious head

I'm sure I want everybody to love me
but I'm not sure if I want everyone to know that
because what's unattractive is repelling
and if I'm alone it means hurting gets overwhelming
and I'm sure all sadness is a tantrum
but just because I get quiet cold inside instead of **** on my thumb
doesn't mean there's any difference in soothing addiction

I'm sure all sadness is a tantrum
and I'm sure all tantrums are affiliated with believing
untrue thoughts, whether logical or foolish
just because you have a mosquito bite doesn't mean you
need to itch it
samasati May 2013
it’s not as real
as it feels
that’s how it always goes
attraction
primrose passion
mediocre marvelling
then
I want to leave this city
and
you were never good enough for me
samasati Sep 2013
there could be a worm in my head
gnawing away,
like mice do through cords, and then one day
you realize
oh! the toaster doesn't work anymore!;
my mercy doesn't work anymore!
and my patience went dry like acrylic paint does
when you brush it on the canvas, and want so badly
to blend it
but it can't blend
because it's dried already, so
you should probably try oil paint or something -
I'm losing my mind
picking all the weeds out,
standing tall with peaceful pride and then realizing,
they were beautiful flowers;
I uprooted them and then chucked them in a naughty pile

I'm awful! loud in my head
stop being awful! I'm hurting people
again
and
again
and
again

find a better gardener, please never
ever
ever
ask me to tend to your soil
or your fruit
or your flowers
or anything that has to do with
nurturing
your growth
or heart health
or emotional stability
- I pull roots
like a robot; I don't even look at what I'm pulling
until after
it's been pulled out.
samasati Oct 2012
have I not held a fruit
in so long?
one that is this organic and whole
an apple
a good grip, a solid fit
like a hand
another hand to hold
that I had not held
but had wished to hold
more longingly than a piece
of fruit;
which speaks directly to
my orthorexia
in loud blows of
chicken-bone-in-my-throat
yelps and laments
it screams:
I WOULD RATHER HOLD AN ICE CREAM CONE
IN ONE HAND IF I GOT TO HOLD YOUR HAND
WITH MY OTHER HAND THAN HOLD A DUMB
APPLE IN MY HAND WITH THE OTHER EMPTY

an apple
a good grip, a solid fit
my eyes watch the bulb in your throat bounce
up and down
when you laugh
(you laugh more than most people do
and I love that about you);
when you silently swallow
after nodding and listening, engaging
my eyes with
the rings of your deep brown irises;
when you gulp down a gin & tonic or Stella
or horrid spiced wine gone luke warm from the cold rain;
I watch the apple bounce
up and down;
a good grip, a solid fit,
I’d throw it away (any day)
to curl my fingers around an ice cream cone
samasati Mar 2013
there, your bed is rocking
as it cradles another woman
beneath your chest
lips beneath your lips
I’m not sure if I care or not
I do a little bit
but I signed up for this without hesitation
a part of me wonders if there was hesitation
in your head
when you heard the front door squeak open
and my bedroom light turn on,
then quickly go out as I shut the door behind me
you’re not loud at all
but it’s 12:47
and I knew you were seeing her tonight
I knew you don’t usually fall asleep this early
I knew I would be coming home to this
I knew I’d have to face what I thought I’d be fine facing
but the ativan is kicking in
boy am I glad I brought it with me
and I’m not sure if I can hear her moaning
or if that’s just a car vrooming past my window outside
a lot of people call this kind of situation
****** up
or extremely strange
I don’t feel ****** up
maybe I feel a little strange
I’m just starting to question
so much,
everything
it’s healthy but it’s hurting
not as sharp as betrayal hurts,
because I’m not being betrayed in any way
it’s just the fogginess of confusion  
that makes you not know where you’re going
and it’s that familiar stagnancy and going-in-circles routine
that has begun to wring my head around
and my heart too, ever so slightly
but I’ll sigh instead of cry this time
not because I’m forcing back tears
but because I really don’t need them right now
and I’m okay
as long as I’m still wanting to live
and truth be told,
I am still wanting to live
because I need nothing but myself, really
that’s the truest truth there is
I’m fine, though a bit torn
but I’m fine and that’s basically all that matters
samasati Sep 2012
it's as if the air is thinner and fresher and my lungs pull it in
to roll around in and soak up its potent clarity

exhales sure remind me of letting go of heavy quilts
my frozen goosebumped mind longs to hide under

there is nothing to hide from, not even black holes - for
there is beauty within the unknown

a fear of blossomed beauty is a fear of losing that pinnacle of
infinitely heightened completeness

One falls for this belief when shyness to greatness is solidified -
belief they know depths and levels and proofs

knowing is knowing, yes, unknown is everything

If I knew where we were going,
I'd drive or would tell you to drive

not knowing encompasses everywhere and I'd sooner rather
look into your green eyes and drift into a black hole of unknown beauty
- where we could breathe in thinner and fresher air and
reach the peak of One with just two
samasati Jun 2014
A boyish smile, a frivolous response, lips grazing my neck
Put on a plaid shirt and I’ll take mine off for you
Never ever never ever never ever ever ever
let your pride win
and we can set to sea in a canoe until you can let me in

I’m a sucker for sad eyes. That’s the compassion.
Pair those with thick-rimmed glasses: I’ll believe anything you say --
And I had a puppy once, so it’s a natural reflex to fill the bowl with water and affection and treats of all sorts.
My heart gives and gives and runs dry and quits
My heart quits and quits and floods with isolation and goes back to giving;
giving
giving
Tell me I'm living --
square one, I’m a hamster
You know, exasperation shouldn’t be as normal
as brushing your teeth
But then again, we’re all supposed to floss everyday and I always seem to forget to,
like Well-Being in general as my heart
gives and gives and dries and quits and gives and quits
and quits and quits
on everyone else that exists

You know,
I don’t want a man that fuels a petty cycle as long as a noose wrapped around my neck
I don’t want a man that shrugs off pain because he’s a man
I don’t want a man that eats his feelings or drugs his feelings or explodes his feelings all over the bed

I’ll desire disregard
and not long enough kisses that cut off like a woman’s water breaking midsentence.
A rocket,
An earthquake
I’ll want a fading away so that I can feel like I want something
& I’m a sucker for freckles and hard rock abs and defined biceps.
& british and french and irish accents.
& most of all, a man that doesn’t need me, or even want to see me
all that often

the space to contemplate
Am I Enough
The waver between
I want to be Enough
I don’t want to be Enough
I want to be Enough
No, I don’t want to be Enough
So I can want
Want
Aspire
Dream
Desire
Live in ifs and buts and maybes, dazed like a complete and utter
cliche

I don’t want a man that gives me a purpose
I don’t want a man that gives me flowers
Okay, I want a man that gives me flowers
and chocolate and good morning kisses and his time

I don’t want a man that snores
But he’s allowed to snore
I don’t want a man that cringes at a menstrual cycle
I don’t want a man that lives halfway across the world or a man next-door that lives in his head 24/7
I don’t want a man that punches his pain through walls
Or mirrors
Or ******* or dickwads or ******* faces

You know,
never ever never ever never ever ever ever
let your pride win
and we can set to sea in a canoe until you can let me in
if you let me in
and I can let you in

I don’t want a man that won’t let me in
I don’t want a man that won’t let love in.
samasati Sep 2012
hey there, i’ve got some bad news

it’ll wrap your neck tight with a noose

until your cheeks turn purple-blue

and you can’t feel your feet in your shoes

you’ll want to pick up a bottle of *****

and down it until your body feels abused

you’ll pass out and wake up confused

perhaps with a new drunken tattoo

all of your friends may be amused

but your regret and shame will suffuse

each time they point, laugh and slap the bruise

you’ll hide your pain ‘cos that’s what strong people do

and resentment will ride high through and through

‘til your face turns rock cold and you make the excuse

that everyone is ****** and they’re the ones to accuse

you’ll abandon your home without saying adieu

because you don’t need people that make you feel deduced

you don’t need to feel like you are being used

to the point you turn dark and only want to seclude

from love itself cause you can’t trust that it’s true

you can’t trust that it’s safe or that it won’t lead you askew

you might want to die, though the thought is so taboo

you’ll judge yourself for holding onto society’s views

until it comes to the point where you can’t handle the queue

the waiting for love gets tough but the whole time you grew

and it’s not so bad anymore, it even almost ensues

so you get on a boat, and row your canoe

out in the river, it’s just the water and you

and you’ll realize, finally that you’ve got nothing to lose
samasati Dec 2013
I can tell you’ve never been touched
like a hurricane doesn’t matter
like 40 below or a deep papercut between your
thumb and your index
couldn’t do any more harm
than a teddybear or marigold —
but that was
before me

before me,
you’ve never been touched
and you’ve never touched
quite like
dissolving  
into the fresh dew on dawn’s grass
and you’ve never stopped
to feel your ****** like stopping to
smell the roses on a worthwhile jaunt
or the daffodils
or the lilac trees, purple and white
or to smile at a happy sunflower
like all of your little hesitancies and horrors
are of little to no caliber

before me,
you’d never go a night without at least a sip of something,
you’d never give yourself
a chance
to be yourself
in the sober light of love

you’re shy and you avoid it
but if you counted the number of empty wine & beer bottles
on your balcony,
you’d finally know
you ought to stop pouring at night
and figure out how to explore at night;
dip your fingers in gooey paint and smear every colour
on the pavement
for hours and hours
until the sun awakes
like you have the power to love

even if

it aches

and at first, it will, like frostbite,
like papercuts all over your palms,
like cartoon cliff jumps that can never **** you,
like getting fired or evicted or rejected
because remembering something
as fierce and as merciless
as love
is heartbreakingly overwhelming
for the fact that

you had

forgotten

and forgetting does not make you strong or shrewd
it’ll only ***** you over
and give you a blubbery beer belly and empty bottled balcony
and before me,
I’m pretty sure you thought your life was a tragedy
because drinking feels nice and *** releases hurt
but I’m just not interested in being with an alcoholic,
so it’s best we stop taking off our shirts.
samasati Aug 2013
there is cotton in my mouth.
my fingers become tweezers, plucking, yanking, culling;
but there is still cotton in my mouth.

it reminds me of the time the spooky man from the shadows called me sugar
and then called me over like I was a cheap doxy.
avoiding him was obvious, but then dodging him became obvious and
the moment I felt ***** hands brush my left hip,
I knew I wasn’t safe anymore.

there was cotton in my mouth.
fragile like a pretty doe with a wounded hind leg,
I could not scream or attack; for there was jelly in my bones too.

but tonight, there is cotton in my mouth, again,
for different reasons; though, the same.
fear.
and while there is no bête noire with a knife
clutching onto my left hip, calling me sugar;
there is this certain bête noire I had neglected,
to discover radiant lights dancing above
and rich, resplendent tickles and tingles coming through my heartbeats.

I found a black spot; a hole or tear; rip in the curtain; stain on the carpet.
a darkness, a moon gone missing; a reversion to autopilot; comatose, asleep.

there is cotton in my mouth and my fingers still
cull the plush barrier; but it grows like a monster
and I have nothing more to say anyway.
samasati Nov 2012
today is my birthday
******* hooray, eh?
I'm only nineteen years old;
ancient to toddlers
callow to parents.
I don't feel any age
I was only five two weeks ago
eleven yesterday morning
and now I'm nineteen
(apparently)
legal in every province
in my country;
how fantastic! I can get drunk
everywhere except the States
how ******* fantastic!
(I don't even like to get drunk).
I haven't celebrated my birthday
in the last
four years;
I don't think there's any need for a
celebration
who the **** gives a ****
why do we celebrate our lives once a year
instead of all year?
samasati Sep 2013
you are like black magic,
a hidden lip underneath a night of grace; underneath the canopy
of old soul trees, stretching out above
to protect hearts from being
hurt;
but you,

you are like black magic
and cheeky lick kisses under ****** blankets.
you were a secret
you were a shame
you were a dose of mortifying pleasure;
a sore amount; a quarter of a cup; a batch of chocolate chip cookies
with just one egg,
splenda, not sugar,
tofu, not meat,
never enough;
but I’m a sucker for vegetarianism and anything
orthorexic – I’ve compared you
to my biggest demon
too often; so I should really know that
you’re toxic –

I dance alone
with my eyes closed
and you’re there; step step, close.
your fingers slide into the gaps between mine
and now we’re interlocking,
like a devil on my back;
I move with you; dancing to your heartbeat
step step step, hold me close
and never let me go
-- oh please let me go
-- oh maybe I should let go.

We’re Getting Older,
the lyrics in the song I am listening to
tell me;
but I feel young under your gaze
a time machine; taking me back to a year ago
in the winter
in the cold
under the open, black sky
because the trees are broken and little in the winter,
leafless,
and don’t have enough life in them
to protect my heart
from being hurt
(by you).
oh you,

you are like black magic,
and I am like a baby lioness,
proud and easily tamed.
samasati Feb 2014
something unexpected yet so ordinary happened
last night
it made me wonder how exactly and
why exactly
the ordinary parts of my life are often so
extraordinary
that extraordinary, to me, has to be more than
exceptionally marvellous and nowhere near far from
outstandingly incredible
some people call it high standards,
like the top step of the ladder

I thought
last night was incredible
because you kiss exactly like how I kiss and the shock fluttered
like bits of confetti and glitter on my tongue and lips and
all over my goosebumpy skin
the cadency of my heart was somehow simultaneously
rampant and rested
my body fully invested
in yours
my body completely suggesting
it’s yours
to touch, to make feel good, to adore
the divine woman, curved and open
eyes and skin glowing
arousal growing
bodies non-existent, spirit flowing

exceptionally marvellous
I jitter in silence, knowing myself
and patterns alike
I try to throw away this burdening muddy stick of
I-always-end-up-getting-sick
of things eventually
but obviously
it’s easier to neglect the fact
that this stick is a boomerang
and it always comes right back
samasati May 2013
patterns
echoes
come back to me like a boomerang

I haven’t seen you in clarity
in a long time

a horse race track
and I am galloping, number 9,
with blinders on the sides of my eyes

running to run, not
running to win, just
running for running
away

I thirst for distance, yet
recognition
it’s easy to take one step too far away
it’s not easy to stay
it’s easy to regret anything

still, maybe I am barefoot at your door
when the neighbourhood is asleep
I dreamt you and my best friend fell in love
and she didn’t know about us
you drank lemonade and held hands
a perfect summer romance

I haven’t seen you in so long
but I saw you last week

your name is famous
to an ice rink,
to the sky I spoke to today
it echoes, even in a field

or perhaps
just in my head
brain, batting its lashes
at your name

it echoes all the same
samasati Sep 2012
it is not a lie
I love you
far from you,
yet true
I don't long either
I just am
here
loving you
so totally
it is overwhelming
to want nothing from you
and just love you
you are caged in
by gut feelings
that have been long ignored
and yet to be released
floating around in your ribcage
but you are a butterfly
and you don't know yet
that you can flutter
out & about
through the bars
to the trees
samasati Jan 2014
my lips purse to meet you
you are like champagne
unopened
are you sweet or are you bitter
are you spoiled
are you a winner

take a beat from my heart,
it accelerates and strengthens
if you pluck an eyelash from me
I’ll remember how to cry again
— and just in case you’re wondering,
I’m still inclined to hold my own hand

guess what
I bought this cactus
‘cos I don’t have to care much for it
we both know
I can’t admit I can’t commit
to letting something bloom
but I’m hoping you won’t notice
see my green thumb,
I am caring!
but see the cactus…
I am lying…
samasati Jun 2013
there is light
and the angels beckon you
to watch them dance underneath it,
with it,
between the rays,
in it,
with a wish that after a glimpse
of salubrious sunlight and soulful sways
to the subtle beat of the Earth’s vibrations
and the wholehearted laughter of the Buddhas bellies
you will breathe in
and out,
the millisecond of a pause between
the in
and
the out,
you will stop
you will surrender
you will die for bliss
you will leave your body and fly to the
castle in the sky
toward the light
to dance with them underneath it,
with it,
between the rays
in it
samasati Sep 2013
you’re free;
you’ll see

maybe all it takes is a seagull
******* on your cap

and you’ll just sit there and laugh -

that’s clarity
samasati Nov 2013
your hands are just clouds
shaped like hands
and I'm lying in the field, letting my imagination run wild,
too wild,
to understand
that you can't actually hold me
and that even if you could,
you can't actually love me,
and that even if you could,
you wouldn't.
samasati Sep 2013
i am incredibly foolish & repetitive
foolishly repetitive
repetitively foolish;
there is a pebble in my heart,
small but firm,
impenetrably set still,
demanding to be felt
coercing the blood supply to soak it all up
as if blood can seep through
a pebble
it cannot; but it won’t stop
demanding attention
it is smothering
and relentless;
i have shortness of breath
and my heart pounds
like a door slammed shut
and then opened
and then slammed shut
it’s almost as if i can feel the pebble
rattle within the walls
with
each
pound,
welting the vulnerable tissue;
open,
slammed shut,
open,
slammed shut;
we all forget how to cry
when we most need to
samasati Apr 2014
I get cold when you stop looking at me
plant roses in my crotch
I sleep in a bed of wilting petals because I can never remember
to water them
or love them
or to buy stamps at the post office
or to get a week’s supply of groceries
or to love anyone.
I got warm when you hugged me for that
one
full
minute
one full minute makes me feel like I'm a little
less pathetic.
teach me how to eat more than apples for dinner
tell me how great my music is
and my smile
and my easy-to-get-lost-in eyes
one more time,
maybe three more times?
kiss me
don't kiss me
oh, kiss me
oh, don’t kiss me, just lean in as if you’re going to so I can ask you
why do you keep looking at me like you’re going to kiss me?
don’t let me touch you unless you want unspoken confusion
as much as I do
talk to me every day and sit on the edge of my bed
sprinkle petals of calendulas on my *******,
plant lilacs in my ears
tulips above my chin
orchids in my eyes
and daffodils in my head
samasati Oct 2013
there are amoebas in me
half are black
half are white
black knows the difference between right & wrong
white knows the difference between wrong & right
I am a castle
made of sugar cubes
I am Einstein
as a fetus
I am a trampoline without springs
but most of all,
I am a liar and a square shooter
and often
don't know what the difference is
samasati Dec 2013
hold me in your heart
and if you can’t do that,
hold me in your arms
and if you can’t do that,
hold me in your eyes
and if you can’t do that,
please never ever ever contact me
ever again,
as I feel quite fragile
and I can’t even say why
perhaps
my lifestyle can be too vulnerable.
samasati Dec 2013
I look behind me
& you vanished all too soon,
leaving me to find the proper branch
to spin up a cocoon
& wait
for something
magnificent
to happen
I think you are magnificent
but I know I shouldn’t so I’d better not
& I’m sorry the sun burns your skin
but your hands burn mine
& every time I look behind me
you’re always gone
& if I look beside me
you’re holding someone’s hand
but it’s never mine
& though I understand love dies
sometimes it goes on, hopelessly inside
someone like me
broken and battered and sanguine still
someone who anticipates her empty heart
to be filled
& I keep looking behind me
as if you’ve just slowed down to tie your shoe
but I never pay attention to what’s coming ahead
& crash into cars and walls instead
samasati Oct 2012
everything is
ok

between you & i

between dirt & sky

i miss you
more than most things i miss

i'd kiss you
more than most men i'd kiss

though i need nothing
from you
nor do i expect anything

there's wind
there's rain
there are storm clouds
sometimes there is sun

from eyes to oceans
rimmed blue with a simple notion

everything is
ok

between you & i

between when & why

between hello & goodbye
samasati Nov 2012
that moment when
your uproar giggle turns into
a massive grin
as you are looking at each other, struck by
a soft silence and you both know
you are about to kiss because you both really want to kiss
and then
ah-hah
you kiss.
samasati Oct 2013
I’m full,
there is no room inside of me
every bone has been dipped in a thick coat
of something
sweet or sick
and every crevice has been poured all over,
now bowls of mixed icky stews –
I am full
there is no room for another hand
or fingerprint
or lemon poundcake

I am full, but I feel bare;
and I still don’t want you there

my body is heavy
with gooey webs of ghoul guilt and there is pressure
on my chest to pick myself up,
and get on with it
even as evil weighs me down,
tires me down,
pries me down,
and laughs at me struggling

I feel so full
there is no room to be smiled at
or even looked at;
there is no more room to store your stories
or secrets
or tears
or trust; it’ll all come falling down
like the London bridge
and I’d collapse underneath, into poisonous gasps and groans
of relief
that finally,
I
get
to
die.

I am full but I feel so empty
and I don’t want to die,
but I want to die;
but I mostly don’t want to die;
I just feel so empty
and I don’t want to be around you
because it doesn’t make it any easier
for me
to love me
samasati Sep 2012
we always want to re-invent ourselves when we feel
rejected, unwanted, left to the side.
we dye our hair or cut our hair or style our hair
so differently, so drastically, so unrecognizable.
we pack on make-up or strip our make-up
or pierce our faces, belly buttons, get tattoos, choose a permanent mark
to remind us of something solid;
something that represents
self-sufficiency or this too shall pass,
because we know we are gonna feel
rejected, unwanted, left to the side again
(and again, and again).
we buy new clothes, give away old ones to our friends,
new shoes, new bags, new look.
and we’re always picking up new vices, new habits, new addictions.
cigarettes, alcohol, razors,
all the late night reckless binges on wine, narcotics, food, cutting ourselves.
sometimes we pick up healthy ones too,
like running, swimming, dancing, yoga, meditating, resetting sleep patterns, taking vitamins, treating ourselves to the spa, eating regularly, getting out of the house to see friends.
we either avoid intimacy at all costs because we can’t fathom
the concept of trust anymore
or we dive into it with practically anyone, just to feel something real
because we are so ******* lonely,
but we never really feel anything real at all.
we make resolutions, goals, plans for our next relationships
so that they won’t follow the same patterns as our last crumbling ones
(they usually still do).
some of us change what we like, what we want, what we need
to impress people so that they
fall in love with us and will never leave us.
we begin disregarding ourselves for another person,
or disregarding everyone else for ourselves,
both because we don’t want to get hurt again.

and then somewhere, somehow after weeks, months, maybe even years of
the full fledged wavering of
destruction meeting recovering meeting ignorance meeting shyness meeting loneliness meeting accepting meeting fear,
we start to see the intricacies of the pattern much clearer -
we make all of these sudden changes because
we just want to feel better,
we just want to be better;
that’s all.
it’s taking charge, which is healthy.
it’s also making fact and point that we need to change to deserve love,
which is unhealthy.
all of it is like learning algebra for the first time,
some of us take a bit longer to understand it all; the formulas, the variables, the balance.
and once we understand the formula, the variables and the balance,
then we can welcome back the beautiful,
real version
of ourselves we’ve been trying to
cover up.
samasati Feb 2013
glass castle,
somebody save me
I feel like
everybody always
n e e d s  m e
when will I
b r e a t h e?
come inside & keep warm
in my glass castle,
somebody save me
it looks
s t a b le
lotsa food on the table
but of course
you know
glass is
f r a g i l e
it breaks when my heart
a c h e s
glass castle,
somebody save us
I’ve let you all down
samasati Jan 2013
you know what?

sometimes you just need to

go to bed

drop those stupid little obsessions that take away from good rest

I swear your head will let the light in through slumber

yes, I know you are antsy for another cup of water

yes, it’s that thirst from an absent father

yes, I’m sure there are many to blame

but sometimes you just gotta

pluck ‘til you’re bare

naked enough to share

may you be vulnerable

may you be raw and sincere

yeah, you’re lost

yeah, you’re stuck in some corner where no one can find you

but if you haven’t felt a pinch of peace in a while, get the **** up

try a different method

or you’ll cry and you’ll curse ‘til you feel nothing else

I know pride is hard to give in

and I understand how you just want to lose

but when the storm starts thundering

you’ll be alone

so get on with your life and just let it go

did you hear what I said?

just go to bed

worry is a problem that will add on to your problem

even though you feel ****** up,

you think you’re not enough,

you are human, you’re alive, you’re great

so shut the **** up a little bit

but also, know you’re allowed

to feel like you’re in hell

though you can be free if you choose not to dwell

on all that **** that makes your heart ache

and gives you nauseating anxiety

the kind of **** that pulls you away from succeeding

it’s addicting

I know that kind of pain is hard to give in

and I understand how you want to feel like ****

but when the storm starts thundering

you have the choice to die or the choice to live

so let it go

and let the real you show

and love the day

and love the night

and hold yourself like everything’s going to be alright

just ******* let it go already

I swear that you’ll feel much more stable

and much more steady
samasati Jun 2013
I started to write a love poem about you
but then it turned into a love poem about someone else
that’s what getting over someone is like
it comes in portions
one day
I’ll write an entire love poem or song about you
maybe 7 or 8
I hope right now
you can settle for half
samasati Nov 2012
Hell, I scrambled to an amusement park last night,
strapped myself in and coasted for hours
I didn't give myself a break instead I kept coasting until it got
hot and buzzed an alarming buzz
It was overheating, as was I, runnels of inhuman sweat stuck to my face
like glue from a hot gun

{they gave me a hot glue gun so I could make them better crafts than an 'ol family portrait with
blue and green markers on the backside of a receipt from the horse races; but my papa didn't
care about the crafts; he just wanted me busy so he could watch the tube and maybe have a nap
in the evening}

The cart is rattling out of its own carriage; I look up to the angels and only see black ***** smoke
Hell, I make a black ***** mess out of most things lately so instead I sit in it
because I usually run out of it; having towers crash and explode behind me
Hell, ya get what ya pay for; I pay for nothing, you pay for everything, I take everything – both of us will always know that

{remember when you'd say we'd go for ice cream to get me to shut up
we never went for ice cream}

Sparks underneath the rails, I twisted my stiff neck to stay still in something blasphemously heavy
{I used to think I was so heavy}

It’s like the feeling you get when you want to do something but your body won't succumb
Split mind & body interpersonal connections - left and right are both just forward,
Going forward to somewhere I've already been.
Hell, I let myself flood until they **** smacked the gates open with a
"What the **** are you tryna do? **** yourself?!" reprimand

And I even almost came to see you because you really wanted a daughter again and
I really wanted a father {again} - I've never really had one to begin with.
Instead, I listened to the cat's in the cradle and cut in my cradle
And hell, I really needed to be loved
I think more than I have ever needed
{you never left but you never came to leave me}

Hell, I don't think I have even seen hell yet; but one day it'll do me in good.
Thou he slay me, yet will I trust in him.
samasati Sep 2012
are not attractive to the man she adores
but that is the only reason she adores him
in the first place

she would not consider him a catch or a man or the love of her life
if he got up early to take a train to the field she lays in

or often called upon her, not only with the
sweetness and charm he retains
but with eagerness and pleasantry, both sincere as a fox craves
a good bird in his jaw, but with spright instead of haste
and with the devotion of rapture without rancour

his eyes are like a tray of a kitten’s sharp teeth
latching onto the pretty bird of his fancy,
and all of her hope infused in her blood only accumulates
as he sinks in for more sorrow
‘til the last grind that never does seem to come

he tries to peel parts of her he doesn’t like
she lets him

a fruit without any husks is not safely kept and often rotten
to grow, you must protect yourself from damage, yet allow yourself
to be bruised enough for simple sweetness
that lays sincerely inside
samasati May 2013
this kind of readiness to leave
everything behind
is protruding
as much as I've always wanted my
hipbones
to
samasati Sep 2012
if you have the choice
(you always have the choice in every ******* second)
to be vulnerable or to be guarded,
choose vulnerability
because it’s honest
it’s clear, it’s concise, it’s the realest thing you’ll ever feel.
lying and reminding yourself to keep lying,
smiling and reminding yourself to keep smiling,
crying and reminding yourself to stop crying
can be such hard work
and honesty, even when throat throttling blatant,
even when timidly tender,
even when sharply studded, or sickly injured,
will always save you in the end
even if it hurts like dry ice whistling on your heart,
even if the person you love chooses to depart,
even if the pit in your stomach is knotting, or rotting
and you feel hopeless, worthless, foolish, guilty,
horrid, evil, mixed up or unhealthy -
honesty
will always save you in the end
samasati Aug 2013
:)
1. tell all of your problems to a tree; it’s not going to answer back but it will love you

2. stuff your face in a pile of snow

3. get up and dance when there is no music playing

4. stand infront of the mirror with one hand cooly resting on your hip and the other hand pointing at yourself, and then wink at yourself like you’re the most attractive babe out there

5. stop everything you’re doing and speak in gibberish until you laugh

6. paint with your toes to Beethoven

7. roll around on the floor for a few minutes; move furniture around so that you have plenty of space to do so

8. bake someone you are fond of cupcakes and surprise them out of the blue

9. pick a ton of wonderful flowers and hand them out to strangers that pass by

10. when you’re stubborn, stuck, in pride, in pain, in mind, tell whoever your head thinks it concerns these 4 lines in a row and nothing else;
"I love you
I’m sorry
Please forgive me
Thank you”
(Hoʻoponopono)

11. buy yourself a yummy ice cream cone

12. go swimming alone and let your body flow and be one with the water

13. write a real old fashioned letter to your mother or father telling them about yourself and that you love them

14. stand outside in the pouring rain until your clothes soak; and make sure you’re barefoot so that gushy mud can get between your toes

15. go to a park with a swing-set and just swing by yourself

16. make yourself a big beautiful breakfast in the morning

17. give your friends meaningful hugs that last a very long time

18. read a passage or two in The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran

19. shut off your Netflix and go on a bike ride in the middle of the night

20. hug yourself and kiss your hands and your arms and stroke your hair and tell yourself aloud “I love you; I love me” over and over again

21. breathe deep into your belly like a Buddha instead of shallow into your chest

22. go to another city/province/country/continent on your own for at least a week

23. don’t shy away from holding someone’s hand or kissing them if you think it feels right

24. hold a baby in your arms

25. drink a glass of water
samasati May 2014
go ahead
and worship yourself once in awhile
let the breeze come and, once in awhile,
remember how to stand -
check your posture, shoulders back, feet apart
and if all you see is cobblestone or pavement or dying brown grass,
look up
remember how to be valiant
check your heart rate
feel your fingertips
loosen the knots in your eyebrows
open your throat
remember the way sunsets look and that puppies and butterflies and popcorn exist

go ahead
and buy yourself flowers
once in awhile
buy a bouquet or seven
fill up a vase with water and let them drink love
place them on your windowsill or
coffee table
or bedside table
but remember to smell them every time you walk by
and once in awhile
buy someone else flowers
or chocolate or honey or a brand new notebook or coffee
make them feel special and important
remind them that tenderness is the root of peace
and you'll remember that tenderness is the root of peace

go ahead
and head outside
if it's raining, get wet, if it's chilly, greet each goosebump with a deep breath
and remember, once in awhile,
your eyes rain and your heart floods and they wash away whatever hurt comes
you are a rocket, baby, you are a fresh hardcover book sitting on a cafe table ready to be read, you are a tree trunk so wide, people must gather around you and hold hands to hug your circumference,
you are bright yellow rain boots, love, you are red pink white roses and lilacs and lavender and the entire flower bed,
you are the sunset, sweetie, the puppies and the butterflies and the popcorn and the peace
so, once in awhile, baby, worship yourself
go ahead
and worship yourself
samasati Feb 2013
we make things
we paint
we write
we sing
we play
we act
we create something beautiful
that has never ever existed before
we are unique
we are brilliant
we are healers
we make people feel depth
we have such potential
but we never see any of that
we just create
and create
and create
mindlessly & mindfully
continuously
hopefully
but we rarely stop and see the effect
our creations have on other people
once in awhile, someone will tell us,
“you are inspiring
your lyrics describe the way I feel inside
I have never felt this understood in my whole life”
and we are deeply touched
sincerely
and we are inspired to help more and more
and we create more and more
and forget more and more
the effect our art has on other people
we are humble
we are genius
yet incredibly daft sometimes
samasati Oct 2012
tired of feeling like
everything i want to write is the same thing
over again
like looking out the window and seeing autumn leaves
with lots of blue sky and still feeling pitted with webs
like cancelling every plan and path toward a droplet of success
for solitude
like curling up in bed the whole afternoon
mostly i hate that everything i want to write
or create
is the same thing
over again
samasati Sep 2013
about so much!
like, do you like lemonade more than hot tea and like so many
other people,
are you self conscious about your feet,
and are you still in love with that girl who
broke
your sad heart?

I am curious,
are we still friends,
will we ever be lovers again,
do you still roll joints as often as I brew coffee,
how often do you make love, and what was the
best time;
was it with her, or with me?

I am curious,
what are you gonna name your baby,
is it a boy or a girl,
are you even ready,
do you ever worry about having no money?

have you ever gotten into a car crash, and did it
completely change your life
and do you always drive the speed limit now?
how often do you watch ****, and do you feel *****
afterward?

are you a momma's boy,
were you bullied as a kid, were you the bully,
were you abandoned?

I am curious,
how'd you learn to lie so well, and how'd you learn
to write so well, and are you
fully aware
of the magic you possess, or are you
sincerely
always
not believing in yourself?

have you ever gotten into a fight, did you
throw the first punch,
or did you take it
like a man?

is your devil chocolate or bread and what
halloween candy
did you trade for the candy you liked,
and if I bought you a Reese's buttercup
would you kiss me tonight?

I am so curious,
do I talk too much, ask too many questions,
get under your skin,
make you want to rip your eyes out
or do you love me and just have
nothing to say
because I'm moving away?
a poem for 4 old lovers
samasati Sep 2012
i have so much love in me and around me
it is impossible to bathe in anything else like
a ****** resentment or an unlimited reservation of sadness

even though those sicknesses are okay and are always curable,
i feel too alive and sure of myself to cough up a loogie of ill-peace

how can I not be okay - right now?
is there a way to prove myself otherwise?

always - we are
HERE
and nowhere else

if only we'd just take a step back and take a look at the illusions
of past or future we've been rolling around in

those are just stories!
and the essence of who we are is not replicated from any external judgement
because a judgement is just another illusional story
that pries into our belief that we will not make it through another day.
but you can, and i can
and you deserve love and i deserve love

and if you take a step back and really look at where you are,
you will see that
you are okay right now too.
samasati Nov 2012
I believe in smiling at strangers. I believe in saying hello. I believe in shyness. I believe in fear of rejection. I believe in the need of affection. I believe in the need of reminders. I believe in candles, especially those that smell of vanilla or christmas. I believe in wearing small crystals around my neck. I believe in energetic vibrations. I believe in colours - I think each person has their own colour. I believe every feeling is valid. I believe in chapstick and I believe in mascara that doesn’t clump. I believe in nail polish - every colour of nail polish. I believe that the only reason we lie is because we fear something. I believe in poetry. I believe in bluntness. I believe in the intention behind words, but I don’t necessarily believe in words. I believe in travel. I believe in travelling solo. In fact, I believe in travelling so much that it is pretty much all I want to do. I believe in music. Boy, do I believe in music. I believe any kind of musical composition can change a person. I believe music can cure depression. I also believe music can feed depression. I believe a melody can say more than lyrics and I believe that lyrics can be what someone couldn’t put together themselves to explain exactly how they are feeling. I believe anyone can create a song, even though they believe they cannot. I believe a single note can sound like the most beautiful sound in the world. I believe if someone records a song when they’re in an ugly mood, the ugliness emits to its listeners and can drain them. I believe in art. Of course I do. I believe in acrylic paint. I believe in oil paint and watercolours, but not as much as I believe in acrylic. I believe in fingerprinting. I even believe in painting with your toes. And I believe in dancing; even if it looks weird. I believe in flailing your arms even, as long as it feels good and right. I believe in dancing ‘til you sweat, though I don’t like that icky feeling too much. I believe that a babe can be a very ugly person and a physically unattractive person can be a very beautiful person. I believe that people who smile are beautiful. I believe that people who frown are beautiful too, just in a different way. I believe that there are sincere smiles and there are manipulative smiles. I believe that some people just know how to use their eyes well. I believe in eye contact. I believe in engaging. I believe in listening and dropping everything else that is going on in your mind just to listen to what a person is trying to share with you. I believe in sharing - sharing cookies and sharing love. I believe in the frosty cold. I believe that it doesn’t have to feel as cold as it really is. I believe that people complain a lot. I believe that people often have too much pride to be happy. I believe that we should embrace our discomforts and shames, that we should welcome them wholeheartedly so that we can be happy. I believe in honesty. I believe in empathy. I believe in tea. I believe in jelly donuts but only on certain occasions. I believe in quirky bow ties. I believe in knit toques and mittens and scarves. I believe in dresses. I believe in flirting. I believe in coffee in the morning. I believe in big comfy beds. I believe in walking around your empty house in your underwear or birthday suit, singing loudly. I believe in singing in the shower. I believe in singing on the street. I believe in stage fright. I believe in meditation, though I don’t really strictly set times to do it anymore. I believe mundane activities can be done in a meditative state of mind. I believe in clarity. I believe in not judging people because everyone is human. I believe every human has something very interesting about them. I believe in boring people too. I believe in christmas music - not the radio kind, the choral kind. I believe in cheap sweet wine. I believe in Billy Joel and I believe in The Beatles. I believe in Regina and Sufjan too. I believe that the ukulele is a very overrated instrument. I believe in having healthy hair. I believe in moisturizer. I believe in getting to pick a coloured toothbrush at the dentist. I believe in thick wool socks. I believe in baggy sweaters. I believe in yoga gear but I do not believe in sweatpants. I believe that yoga is one of the healthiest things for a person - ever. I believe in buying a friend drinks or dinner once in awhile. I believe in collecting shoes and scarves and rings. I believe in chords but I don’t really believe in jeans. I believe in hot chocolate with whip cream but not with marshmallows. I believe in dorky Christmas sweaters. I believe in baking cookies instead of cake. I believe in eating disorders - I do not support them, but I do believe they are much more severe and various than most people think and I believe there should be better/proper help for those who suffer instead of the usual cruel inpatient/outpatient care. I believe in trichotillomania and I believe in dermatillomania and the severity and impact it can have on its sufferers. I believe in gardens. I believe in every single flower. I believe that everyone is always doing their best. I believe that most people love to struggle. I believe in hope. I believe in having faith in yourself. I believe in iPod playlists. I believe in gym memberships in the winter, not the summer unless it’s to swim. I believe in matching underwear every day. I believe in Value Village. I believe in singing in bus shelters when you’re waiting for the bus. I believe in dressing up according to holidays. I believe in Grey’s Anatomy and I believe in Community. I believe in skirts and dresses that twirl like the ‘ol days. I believe in longboards more than skateboards. I believe in plaid like most young people do. I believe in bows in my hair, but not as much as I used to. I believe in foot massages and hand massages. I believe in reflexology and reiki and essential oils and chakras and crystals and holistic nutrition. I believe in anxiety; even crippling anxiety. I believe in awkward romances. I do not believe in flip flops. I do not believe in Beatles covers unless they are really insanely good; then my mind is blown. I believe in having long enough nails to scratch someone’s back appropriately. I also believe in biting nails. I do not believe in telephone calls unless I am extremely comfortable with the person. I believe in blogs. I believe in journals. I believe in naming special inanimate objects like journals, instruments, technology and furniture. I believe in the idea of cats more than I believe in cats. I believe in sharpies or thin pointed permanent markers. I believe in temporary tattoos. I believe in streaming movies online. I believe in royal gala apples. I believe in avocados. I believe in rice cakes. I believe in popcorn. I believe in airports but I hate the LA airport. I believe in openly talking about *** but I don’t believe in making it seem shameful and gross. I believe there should be no shame regarding sexuality. I believe in reading some great books more than once. I believe in laying on the couch under cozy blankets, watching a great suspenseful tv show or movie. I only believe in having a couple bites of cheesecake. I don’t really believe in lulu lemon. I don’t believe many people can pull off the colour yellow. I believe in buttons over zippers even though zippers are easier, they just look kind of dumb and cheap. I believe in the sun and the moon equally. I believe in closets over dressers. I believe in staring out the window for a good hour or so.
samasati Mar 2014
to make you feel stronger
lighter
breezier
easier
secure
to hold you when I need to be held too
to laugh at every punchline
to stop crying when I tell you I’m crying and you say oh no that’s not good
I can’t promise
I won’t let the lions and tigers and bears rip out a few pieces of my heart
that I won’t rip out a few pieces of yours
that I will care
that planes and trains and buses and boats won’t tempt me
& I can’t promise
I’ll ever learn to sleep properly
for longer than a week
that I won’t light myself on fire with curiosity
that I can always be pretty
thin
magnetic
inspiring
that I know how to take care of myself all of the time
that I will stay
that’s the big one
that I will stay
I can’t promise
that I won’t leave you
samasati Sep 2012
I love you when you’re gone
I love you when you’re here
I love you when you miss me
I love you when you’re real

I hate you when you dodge
I hate you when you lie
I hate you when you’re distant
I hate you when you’re high

& even though I’m doubtful
flaky-mental-mad-lunatic-insane-******
the cuts of your sharpest ice
still, for me, suffice
samasati Nov 2013
you’re like an echo,
a pattern on a rug,
a wild rainstorm without the flood


I drew an X and O on a piece of bark 

with my red lipstick but I didn’t have the guts

to put it in your mailbox



that’s a true story

you met a *****

golden smile and legs

when we last spoke, I told you life was absolutely great

dishonesty gets the best of me
when really I’m alone here

trying to scrimp and save

every moment you and I have made

and I could die

that’s a sad story
and a true story

patterns
echoes
come back to me like a boomerang

I haven’t seen you in clarity
in a very long time

you’re like a horse race track
and I am galloping, number 9

running for dear life,
with blinders on the sides of my eyes


running to run, not
running to win, just
running for running
away

I never found it easy to stay
in one place
in my head, even in my heart
they’re fickle body parts

it’s easy to take one step too far away
it’s not easy to stay
it’s easy to regret anything
and I do all of these things over and over again

I’ll probably always thirst for distance
but if you need to,
you can find me in my garden, where I plant
a lot of thought
I’ll always hope that someday,
you’ll recognize your loss and look me in the eyes again

I’m like a hayseed
having a hard time surrendering to the wind
and I could die

still, maybe I am barefoot at your door
while the neighbourhood is asleep
drawing X’s and O’s on tree bark or two stick figures kissing
with sidewalk chalk

I dreamt you were with someone else
you drank lemonade and held hands,
a perfect summer romance

it made me want to die
it made me want to write you a letter and then burn it
but I decided to repress it all instead

I’m sorry for leaving
and then coming back
and then leaving again

and though I only saw you last week,
I haven’t seen you in clarity in a long time

it makes me lonely and when I feel lonely,
I speak to the sky
whispering secrets, you see,
it’s the only thing I can always speak to without lying

the truth is a fierce thing,
like wind can be,
it can be merciless
and I am just a hayseed
having a hard time surrendering to the wind

oh, the truth
it echoes, even in a field

or perhaps
just in my head

you can’t run away from the truth after you tell it to the sky
because the sky is everywhere,
always watching

always listening

always there

and that kind of makes me want to die
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