One of the most destructive things
A person can do to themselves
Is to place the responsibilities
That only they can truly fulfill
Onto others
Whether that be
Self acceptance
Purpose
Loving oneself
Or happiness
No one else can build the stable foundation except yourself
They can only add onto what you’ve previously build

our most unfiltered essence
can be found in our early years
but then we are challenged
to conform to societal expectations
so that we may be socially desirable
at the cost of abandoning aspects of ourselves
for survival
this train of thought emerged when
my psychology professor told me
during a mindfulness exercise
to come back home to myself
to the aspects of myself that I foreclosed
for the sake of survival
so
I encourage all of you reading this
to take the courage
and come back home to the parts of yourself
that you abandoned
all those years ago

Be with someone
Who makes you question
Whether you've ever been in love
Before

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Empty
.
..
...

It’s crazy
To think so much
About how I wished we met
In different circumstances
In a different environment
With a different context
You see
Where you meet someone
And who you’re with
Have a heavy influence
On the way in which you converse
And interact with another
Especially if you’ve never met before
For example
If you’re in a bar or dance club
You’ll interact with someone differently
Than if you met that same person
In a church or classroom
Because the environment has such a sway
In conversation etiquette and topics
If you’re hanging out with your older brothers
And their friends come over
The way in which they talk to you
Will be different because of your relation
To those around you and their presence
So even if they find you attractive
Even if they are known to be **** boys
You’ll get to see a different side of them
That you would have never seen
Had the environment and people been different
So I can’t help it but wonder
How our conversation would be
If we met in a different environment
Surrounded by different people
If you’d hit on me
If you’d be polite
If you’d be disrespectful
If you’d be quiet
As we spoke to one another
So next time
Be conscious of the environment you’re in
Of the people you’re around
Be conscious of the conversation etiquette
Of the approved conversation topics
Use it to your advantage
Or don’t
Either way
Just be conscious

“I don’t hate you
I just lost respect for you”

it is so powerful
it carries with it an overlooked beauty
it comes in various forms
and has the ability to convey so much information
once you become aware of its divine magnificence

when it comes to the hand
there are many tightly bundled sensory neurons spread across its surface
especially on the tips of your fingers
whether you gently stroke someone's bottom lip in wonder
firmly press your finger tips into the waist of a passionate lover
softly cradle the hand of a newborn
make stinging contact with the cheek of an individual which you scorn

then there are the lips
they are one of the most sensitive areas on your body
with over a million nerve endings
so even the slightest brush
sends a cascade of information to our brains
they are our body's most exposed erogenous zone
yet they also can communicate many different
sensations and experiences
whether that be the sensual brush of another's lips against yours
the soft feeling of a baby's hair as you kiss them goodbye
or the euphoric high that numbs them as you dance in bliss

there is also the tongue
the ears
the *******
and so on

touch
it is so powerful
it has the ability to convey the way you feel
about others and yourself
it can also demonstrate the feelings
that others have towards you

I find it quite interesting
How I am currently living in a phase
That I will one day
Look back on and reminisce
It’s almost as if
Living in the present is a form of the past

How sad is it
That I cry
When someone who hurts me
Leaves

and as i sit in this church pew
i can't help but find myself writing poetry on my left palm
i use the pens that are supplied
behind the backs of the wooden rows
and let my mind wander
to places where my golden thoughts lay
i am also aware that these captured emotions
are written from stolen ink
and pressed onto my sensitive flesh
only to disappear from sight
when i fold my hands together
bow my knees
and begin to pray

My beauty
Is not found within conformity
My beauty
Is found in embracing my originality

i wanna dive
into the field of your thoughts
that is your mind
i wanna drive
through the emotions fighting and declaring war
in your eyes
i wanna swim
in your laughter
that transforms your entire body
to such a warm hue
i wanna touch
the glass that your heart coats itself in
so jagged yet fragile
i might get cut
but i know that you are a beauty i wont come by again
in this lifetime
s           o

what do you say     
                                       a
                                   e        p
will you take this l                 with me

live in the m o m e n t 
                                                      g
stop t                                      n
             h                          i
                    i            k
                          n
and just
e
    x
  i
     s
t

with m  
          e

I'm not sure I've been self aware of this feeling before

Not as of late

I've tried so hard to refrain from behaving in a way that aligns with the feeling of hating who I become when I'm around another

And yet

Here she is
Mocking me again
I can't escape her
I'm tantalizingly pulled back into this familiar neural pathway of connection

I'm sorry
Sorry I instigate you intentionally

Trying to get you to lash out
So that I can lick my own wounds
Unknowingly giving you the whip intentionally
So that I may cling to the narrative of victim and transgressed
The only one who has the "right" to be upset
So that I may disregard the ugly behavior I myself have transgressed against you

I'm sorry

I know I'll go hauntingly silent mid-argument

I freeze

It's a moment of realization for myself

A mirror pushed in front of my face
A hand squishing my cheeks painfully and around my jawline
Forcing me to look at my many existent shadows in the bright fluorescent lights that cause me to wince

I can't dare whisper it out loud
No
I cannot

But I can write it in a poem
I harm
I hurt
I become brutal with my choice of words

I have temper tantrums as a twenty-four year old woman
I seldomly had the ability to when I was a kid
Not with childhood trauma and emotionally abused parents who passed on less abuse than they endured

And for that
I'm sorry
You don't deserve it
You don't deserve to take on the brunt of my parents' responsibilities

They failed me
And in you I find solace and self contempt and confusion

I'm sorry
I can't fully formulate into words what I'm doing and why
It doesn't make sense to me
And it leaves me with a mysterious shape of confusion

There is a sweetness to it
To know I can hurt you
And you can embrace it
Unlike like those who failed me when I was all too young
Sorry

I guess it's a natural by-product when you have someone you feel safe enough with to enact your trauma onto
But it doesn't take away the chronically exhaustive tone our relationship is colored in

In a consumer driven
Defining itself over one another
Capitalistic society
Which feeds off of instilling
Insecurity into its victims
With the desire for more due to
A sense of inadequacy
A sense of never being enough
The most rebellious and revolutionary act
One can do
Is to love oneself
Because it facilitates so much joy
Not happiness
For joy is not externally dependent
Like happiness is

She’s broken within
A chaos floating in the wind
A balloon with no ties
Head filled with nothing but a high
She’s broken within
A chaos floating in the wind

Have you ever looked at someone
And thought to yourself
I wish you were mine
All while trying to suppress
A shy smile
And hope
Pray even
That your eyes
In return
Aren’t revealing the depth and complexity
Of your infatuation

Your presence alone
Is enough
No words are needed to be said
No actions are needed to be expressed
Just your presence alone
Is enough

How devastatingly horrible it is to be your daughter
How devastatingly horrible it is to imagine what it's like to be in your inner psyche

The rushing streams of my hatred for you runs just as deep and thick and strong and authentic as my love for you

I like to believe and fantasize that you did your best in raising me
It's farther from the truth but it's more digestible for me to believe

But it was also not enough for me

I grieve everyday
Whether I am conscious of it or not
And I worry I will forever have this lingering depression like many generations worth of women before me

You do not know love

How to receive give or radiate it's nature
It did not make a home in your bones

For that I cry rivers
Rivers for the little girls that we once were and yet still are

You exert power and harm and control and call it love
All while having eyes of hatred pin-pointed sharply at my averted shy gaze as you utter it
For that's what it was packaged to you all your life

You do not know of a gentle yet fierce love
It is foreign to you
Thus you do not know how to pour into others what was never poured into you

You show me glimpses of it
So quick and fleeting in color that I question whether I experienced it or not

These glimpses of a motherly love are authentic and true
Just as your rage and violence and pain

I hold onto to those tender yet scarce memories as I child clings to their mother's leg when they start kindergarten and are afraid to be abandoned and explore the world separate from what they understand at the time is to be their life source

I do not know how to categorize you
Mostly good or mostly bad
Maybe that's not even the point
But I'd like to believe that we exist in another dimension where we do not have oceans of harm between us
Where we speak the same primary language
Where you weren't traumatized beyond what you were capable with your two hands to heal from so you could tend to me as a mother should
Where we go on tea dates because we both don't prefer it to coffee and I can come to you for comfort and cry in your arms as you stroke my hair softly
Where silence is a source of peace rather than an activation of my sympathetic nervous system
Where I never come to know you as my first bully
Where your eyes never show hatred towards me
Where we live in a dynamic ebb and flow as natural and soft and smooth and light as our breaths and bellies are when one meditates
I love you
And I mourn my relationship with you in every time I mutter those three words

Happy Mother's Day

men may be the head of the household
but do not confuse
role for power
i have met egotistical dominant *******
and push over submissive women

there is purpose in roles
i do not forget this
but when one mistakes a role
in relation to an assumed power structure
foolishness emerges

it is good for the man to be the head
it is good for the woman to be the body
for one is nothing without the other
and due to this
they must be seen as equals
with different functions
that influence each other
and work together to create a product
that surpasses anything
one party can produce alone

No longer
Will I mimic others
Without listening to what I want
I am my own person
I take up space
I have thoughts
I have opinions
I have desires
I have dreams
All of which I ignored
For the sake of being a mirror
Of someone else’s reflection
If I want to drink
I’ll drink
If I want to go explore Seattle by myself
I’ll go
If I want to meaninglessly flirt with a hot stranger
I’ll flirt
If I want to dance sensually
I’ll dance
If I want to show off my body
I’ll show off my body
If I want to talk to someone
I’ll go talk to them
If I want to study psychology
I’ll study it
If I want to break cycles of trauma
I’ll will break them and heal
If I want to have a boyfriend
I’ll be with him
If I support ****** education
I’ll support it
If I want to have ***
I’ll have ***
If I want to attract attention
I’ll attract it
If I want to wear a tight outfit
I’ll wear it
If I want to show off my stomach
I’ll flaunt it
If I want to go eat
I’ll eat
If I want to be loud in public
I’ll be loud
If I want to pretend I’m someone I’m not
I’ll pretend and win an Oscar
The point is
I am my own person
I am my own entity
I am not my mother’s copy
Or anyone else’s
I am not society’s poster child
I have differences
In my opinions
In my thoughts
In my desires
In my values
And I own them
I was never meant to be anyone’s mirror
But my own
I will do what I want
Because I embrace who I am
And not care what others think
To a certain extent
Because I am my own person
Who wants to express what that is
Life is too short
To not do what you truly
Deep down inside
Want to do
Because the values you had before
That you adopted from other people
Were never truly yours
To begin with
So
What do you want
Who do want be be
Is it who you are right now
If not
Then what’s holding you back
Find out who you are
Be you want to be

Just a glimpse
Three seconds to be exact
Just like the research told me
That’s all it took
For me to continue my
Lingering stares

I would look for you
In places where I’ve seen you before
Trying to flirt with the butterflies
No dinosaurs
In the pit of my stomach
So that they could take five
Just enough time for me to be bold
To be confident in myself
Enough to look at you
For more than three seconds
Without quickly darting my gaze away

I’m not sure what captured my attention
There was just something unspoken
About you
But I wonder if it was just neediness
Because it’s been years
Since I really liked anyone
So maybe I like you
Because I miss the feeling
Of have a crush
Of having the nervousness
The sweaty palms
The shy smiles
Rosy blushes
Face splitting grins

Maybe I only have a crush on you
Because I needed the reminder
Of what it’s like
To have a crush
Because now that I’ve seen you
A few times
I think the infatuation has subsided
I love it
Yet I hate it
All at the same time

When a member of the opposite ***
Asks this question
I can’t help but laugh
Inside outside emotions
This is a concept where the outside emotions are the thoughts that are being said out loud from the conscious
While inside emotions are the thoughts that are being said within the subconscious typically
So
In this case
When someone asks
What’s your type
What they might be saying is
Depending on the analysis of the person
I’m kind of insecure
And I don’t know if I am someone that you would pursue a romantic relationship with
So maybe
If you could name off some characteristics
I could compare myself to them
To see if I fit any of them
You can learn a lot from this concept
The analysis of the subconscious using the conscious
Asking the question why

how are you really doing
-> insert photo with lots of adjectives describing emotional states; if none are applicable, then just state energy level (high or low) and pleasantness (high or low)

2. share two poems: one you have recently read and one you have recently written

3. three life events that have happened
-> state whether you would like feedback or if you would like to just be listened to

4. answer four questions from the list ( if a list is not created, then just ask four thought provoking or simple questions; how did you learn to ride a bike; who makes you feel the most loved, etc.)

5. write a poem about a certain topic or style then share it with one another

6. part with asking how they are currently doing
-> state an adjective and use level of energy and pleasantness

I firmly believe that
we express to the extent of our understanding
you express forgiveness
to the extent that you understand forgiveness
you express love
to the extent that you understand love
you express humility
to the extent that you understand humility
if your understanding is distorted
your expression is an extent of that
however
it is important to note
that we express what has been shown
to others
and to ourselves
when we were young
we gained these relational templates
through our youth
your ability to forgive
love
is heavily influenced by the way
it was demonstrated to you
and to those around you

The armor you carry with you
It’s the product of others’ influence
That you have accepted
Take it off
All of it
Until you are completely bare
Naked to no one but yourself
This is symbolic to the vulnerability
That this action evokes
Now is when you begin to find yourself
Now is when you begin to analyze what you accept and put on
It is no longer a questioning
Of whether the hat you chose was your decision or another’s
In this moment
You begin to intentionally choose
What you want to put on
As a component of your armor  
This requires you to leave the warmth
That your old clothes provided you
And to accept the vulnerability
That accompanies the act

It’s quite poetically tragic
How you were my muse
Yet I
Was only an afterthought
To you
Even though you made me believe
That I was the sun in your solar system
Oh how bitter it tastes
Knowing your body language
Never lied
Yet I
Chose to listen to the words from those
Poisonous lips
Of yours
As they molded a facade over you
That kept me from the truth

i use words and phrases
almost everyday
and yet
i find myself realizing that i do not truly understand
the meaning behind the words i use
and it numbs me
language is powerful
and yet i find myself confused of the one i possess

FORGIVE
/fərˈɡiv/
verb
stop feeling angry or resentful toward (someone) for an offense, flaw, or mistake

have i ever truly forgiven those that i told myself i have
this definition shocked me
i use it often and yet i did not even know what it really meant

COURAGEOUS
/kəˈrājəs/
adjective
the choice and willingness to confront agony, pain, danger, uncertainty, or intimidation

the list goes on and on
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Life's a funny old time
When I was younger
I thought I knew exactly how my life would turn out and who I would be
Now
After so much pain and trauma and accomplishments and perseverance
I no longer align with who I thought I'd be at this age in my life
I stare into mirrors and see someone who doesn't look familiar
Foreign
She is a glaring reminder that I've grown into someone I am not yet intimate with
I do not know her
She's busied herself with working overtime
Enmeshed in depression
Her first love
Mary
And the night shift life
It's a hard pill to swallow
Coming to terms with the discrepancy between who I thought I'd be with who I feel I am now
It's a constant tug between accepting and denying this reality
I wish I could continue sleep walking in the numbness this long season of depression has granted me
But I move to days in three short weeks
9 shifts left
I honor this time but recognize I am ready to set this time in my life down
It will be greatly missed
But I need day light to find time in my week to fall in love with myself again
Learning who I am now
Embracing the ways in which I've shrunk and stretched and collapsed
Exploring through boredom and hobbies old and new

Am I tending to my leaves more than my roots? It feels less painful and more safe.

How do you heal a diseased root?

Why am I scared to leave?

Can we do a prayer together? Can you pray for me? Can you write me a letter or note that I can go back to and read when times get rough for me?

We tell people to go against their bodies...to remove themselves from protection as their nervous system understands it. Leave that person; be MORE in your body; say no.

I desire to live a more conscious life that's not as unconscious and habitual than most people.

I fear that I am luke warm. My faith is not stable right now and I don't want it to be but I know it's how I feel. It's hard. I don't know how to go about it. How to pursue. I worry I have intellectualized the gospel and now I struggle to listen to sermons. I find myself criticizing more than anything.

As I gather the courage to feel my grief
To sit with it as I cry
I ask myself tirelessly
Will it always be like this
To feel as though I am constantly on the brink of tears
It's not every day now
It comes and goes
But fu€k this *****
I wanna bottle it in
But the latter would lead to more chaos
Unconsciously
And I refuse to suffer from repressed emotions that I chose to repress
I refuse to pass along the unprocessed pain of generations worth of trauma onto others
I will feel it ******
I'm just tired

It’s so silent now
I can feel my pulse
Pounding in my ears
as I lay against my arm
it’s the only reminder I have
interrupting my thoughts
that I’m alive
it invades my mind
To tell me of the life that I have
Yet Descartes would argue
That my ability to hold thought
Is another proof
Of my existence

I am a castle
I’m a mystery to everyone from the outside
Many are eager to find a way in
To escape undetected from my security
Climb their way only to judge the interior
Compare it to the exterior
Which is the only image I’ve allowed
Them to judge
However
No one
Will see the real me
That locks herself away from the
Destructive and dehumanizing eyes
Of those that secretly desire
To be the castle
A price too high
For anyone
To live with
Once the truth is unveiled