3/16 @ 11:11pm

There is a loss felt at the keen of birth, perhaps before

Where the person that is, feels they never were

I have knelt in the crawl space to avoid disturbing the low guttural howl that echoes in the between space of every breath

Tasted blood from fear, opened my eyes wider in the darkness to see

The fog has given shape and fulfills its purpose to shroud the light that exists in the imagination

Planted.

Yes, my feet have never left the ground

This is the place I must grow alone

You say there is a presence, but no, alone

How can I be a torch, born from doom?

What light can there be, seeded from gloom?

The paintbrush between traipsed fingers ever ready suspended in air

I paint smiles across the tedious atmosphere

I sip wine with my nose towards my toes

I place wishing well pennies in skirts sown with broken holes

The cheek is tender with tears

The heart is broken and seared

Spirit commands the flesh to inhale

Every breath released, the body impaled

I am losing feeling in my fingertips, have I ever existed or is this metamorphosis?

If I sleep I may never awaken

And there lies the true smile

there is where I have lain all the while

The sun will never crack through my dirt.

The Morning After

The rage is is what kept us alive

Drained of life and fruit, we sought each other for the keeping

with our wings open at the ready

Passion dripped from poisoned fingertips turned rakish toungue

A rogue. Maybe were we.

In our haste to slash, but come to the front unwounded

It was a sin

It was a cliff

It was fear in the sky, the kind you giggle at

But we belonged to it and it was ours

The rage sought out tiny cracks in the soul

And embedded desire and disgust both amicably

We tore at the core, we will die here

But the sun came up

We lost the sight of you and I

And quietly tucked our muffs, pattering away into tomorrow.

Freedom.

I think I’ve been subconsciously tiptoeing around the thought. It’s been so long since I’ve had the courage to write anything. Whenever I had thoughts, they were dark and vulnerable. I’d write out a poem and turn away from my phone in bed, trying to forget about it. I fight so hard to turn away from all of my dark, suppressing, and promising myself I’ll deal with it another time. But all that time left alone, it all grew. It grew bigger than I could ever be. It surrounded me and I lost myself in all of the dark. Everything I saw, was through it’s stormy lens. My words translated by its wind. My heart wilting from the lack of connection to beauty and gratitude. I changed my hair, worked out religiously, forced myself out with friends, and yet it grew. Quietly. In and around me.

I know it by name now. Fear. Fear fed by bitterness, longing, heartbreak, and all the things I hoped for, that never was. No one really tells you that. a new reality hits you as you grow older. That time seems brittle in your hands if you’re not wielding it in gratitude. Every new hope carries much more weight. Every disappointment feels like the worst failure. I realized I was feeling all of this, without the safe net of placing all my hopes and desires into the future. I had to live now. I have to live now. The present is so much scarier when you have no clue who you are.

The multi-dimensional facet that is Freedom is beyond complexity, only because it’s so simple. We live routine lives, seasons come, lives are changed, and we stick to our routine to stabilize us. In my quest for Freedom, I recognize that I have to find it within me, and externally. Being the over-thinker that I am, I planned to discover who I was again, make sure that my new foundation was stable, and then seek the Freedom I was looking for in my environment. I’m learning that I have to work on both at the same time, in order for me to grow into the person I choose to be. I have to let go of the need to remember my past. I’ve leaned on it for so long to remember as a constant reminder of who I am, when it’s not who I presently am at all. I’m just…tired of being afraid. I’m exhausted of how much it dictates my decisions and my life. I want Freedom. I’m working on choosing Freedom. I just hope I get there in this lifetime.

Sunday, Preach.

It’s easy to get lost in a world designed by fantasy. How did we even allow ourselves to be so fooled by our own egos? In becoming an adult, you envision your future. This is where your life, or what you believe your live to be, becomes warped. What we desire most becomes heavily influenced by social media, social cues, and who you’re supposed to be (or want to be), rather than who you are. Some never experience waking up from this dream. A life experience happens to others, jarring their own sense of reality and creating a stranger of their own self.

What makes it so wrong to be who you are? What makes it so difficult to want to figure out exactly who that is? For most of us, this process is painful. There is an absence, a wrong doing, or a misguidance of some sort. We then start the path to who we want to be, instead of who we need to be. The dive in this road is heavily dependent on if your wants and needs align, or eventually align. Who I need to be is someone who is healed. Someone who understands others, allows love into my life, and learns how to let go of what no longer serves me. A lover who thrives in my feminine energy. A positive light for myself. A fighter for my own individual peace. Who I want to be is someone who is comfortable with their body, who knows how to love myself as much as I love others, and who feels comfortable in social settings. I want to be a writer because it allows me to communicate my emotions and experiences to others, while attempting to constantly find a connection with another. As I grow older, my wants and needs align and intertwine. This is how Spirit speaks to you.

Time is what you want. But patience is what you need. For many, time passes, yet they are still the same individual they were at the start line. Patience takes the fragile hand of time and gives you the freedom, acceptance, and understanding required to be your authentic self. The freedom to explore your own interests and desires and not give a fuck what anyone thinks about them. The acceptance of your past AND your present self. To accept decisions you’ve made and the decisions others have made for you. The understanding to provide clarity. Understand me, please. There is closure you may never receive. Understanding helps to not only ease that longing, but gives strength to your confrontation of your experience.

We have a hard time differentiating the many versions of ourselves that exist. We forget that the seed chooses the best way to grow, convinced by the water in the soil and the determination of the sun. Allow yourself to feel. Hug yourself while you heal. Remember who you were, who you are, and who you will be. Remind yourself to stay close to your Spirit and your Creator. Give yourself time. Provide space. Float spotlessly. Love unconsciously. Allow yourself to guide you.

We Grow.

Gratefulness and Forgiveness comes in layers. I have so many reasons to be grateful, and they just continue to pour n. The result of everything I have been blessed with, is gratefulness, and I will continue to fight for it.

To my detriment most times, I am a hyper independent individual. I depend on myself for all things, while also putting myself in position to be depended on. I am heavy most days, but the swell in my heart from helping someone is always worth it. I recently decided to have surgery and the outpouring of love has been beyond any realistic possible measure for me. Although surgery may be traumatic for my body, it has been a source of comfort and peace mentally and emotionally. I have been still with forgiveness and gratefulness, so let’s talk about it.

Going through surgery forced me to think about those who are in my corner. I told some about it and kept it a secret from others, especially in my family. My older sister and father were kept in the dark and remain so. My father is not a formidable presence in my life, and my sister has chosen to distance herself for her own reasons. I’ve acknowledged to myself that tackling my feelings about my father may be a lifelong process for me, in various forms. I have forgiven my father, internally and verbally, for leaving my family and for the wrongs he’s committed against my mother and his children. What Life has currently shown me, is that I will have to continue to forgive him in the various stages of my life. My inner child has forgiven him for the abandonment. As a woman seeking a partner, I will have to forgive him as someone who betrayed Love. As a future mother, I will have to forgive him as a man who abandoned his children. As a grandmother…well you get where I am going with this.

When I first came to this realization it seemed so daunting. But I have grown to understand my Spirit and to understand the necessity of forgiveness in my everyday life. People will continue to hurt you. Love will continue to heal you. Strength will continue to carry you through it all. Therefore, I am grateful.

I choose the knowledge of understanding leading to my peace. Vengeance is the laziest form of grief, so in forgiving myself and others, I am choosing the silver lining of my life. For gratefulness, choosing the same method of layering forgiveness in each stage of my life (but on a daily level) has allowed peace and spiritual growth in my life. Life is a choice once you realize it’s yours. Many of us seek how to obtain the full, value of life, and seek out others to tell us. I wish we all could understand that forgiveness is the spiritual spouse to gratefulness and having both will provide the direction we all seek. So much is born from both. Acceptance, peace, self-love, understanding, and most importantly, clarity. I apologize if I repeat myself in these ramblings, but it’s important for you to remind yourself of YOURself. Even if that means continuously finding the gratitude and forgiveness you need to move forward. Moving forward, exploring how to find oneself will be my focus.



Gratefulness and Forgiveness comes in layers. I have so many reasons to be grateful, and they just continue to pour n. The result of everything I have been blessed with, is gratefulness, and I will continue to fight for it.

To my detriment most times, I am a hyper independent individual. I depend on myself for all things, while also putting myself in position to be depended on. I am heavy most days, but the swell in my heart from helping someone is always worth it. I recently decided to have surgery and the outpouring of love has been beyond any realistic possible measure for me. Although surgery may be traumatic for my body, it has been a source of comfort and peace mentally and emotionally. I have been still with forgiveness and gratefulness, so let’s talk about it.

Going through surgery forced me to think about those who are in my corner. I told some about it and kept it a secret from others, especially in my family. My older sister and father were kept in the dark and remain so. My father is not a formidable presence in my life, and my sister has chosen to distance herself for her own reasons. I’ve acknowledged to myself that tackling my feelings about my father may be a lifelong process for me, in various forms. I have forgiven my father, internally and verbally, for leaving my family and for the wrongs he’s committed against my mother and his children. What Life has currently shown me, is that I will have to continue to forgive him in the various stages of my life. My inner child has forgiven him for the abandonment. As a woman seeking a partner, I will have to forgive him as someone who betrayed Love. As a future mother, I will have to forgive him as a man who abandoned his children. As a grandmother…well you get where I am going with this.

When I first came to this realization it seemed so daunting. But I have grown to understand my Spirit and to understand the necessity of forgiveness in my every day life. People will continue to hurt you. Love will continue to heal you. Strength will continue to carry you through it all. This is why I am grateful.

I choose the knowledge of understanding leading to my peace. Vengeance is the laziest for of grief, so in forgiving myself and others, I am choosing the silver lining of my life. For gratefulness, choosing the same method of layering forgiveness in each stage of my life (but on a daily level) has allowed peace and spiritual growth in my life. Life is a choice once you realize it’s yours. Many of us seek how to obtain the full, value of life, and seek out others to tell us. I wish we all could understand that forgiveness is the spiritual spouse to gratefulness, and having both will provide the direction we all seek. So much is born from both. Acceptance, peace, self-love, understanding, and most importantly, clarity. I apologize if I repeat myself in these ramblings, but it’s important for you to remind yourself of YOURself. Even if that means continuously finding the gratitude and forgiveness you need to move forward. Moving forward, exploring how to find oneself will be my focus.

12:04am.

It’s 12:04am and I’m sitting at my kitchen counter writing this solely based on a conversation I had earlier with a friend. He gave me a slight glimpse into the trials of his relationship and it wasn’t until now that I wondered; what makes it all worth it?

I often wonder about how much a relationship has to go through before both parties realize it won’t work. The question lingers; are we fighting for love or for our own sense of normalcy? We all have the fear, conscious or not, of being alone. We then find someone who puts up with half of our shit and it becomes hard to let go of that, even if we’re unhappy with the person. Imagine staying with someone you don’t even like because you fear you will never find anyone who likes even half of you. It happens everyday. Love becomes this resounding object that we cling to, because…well…life. We develop this conditioned notion that every seed planted must be sowed for our own benefit or for benefit of those we love. But doesn’t that sound burdensome? Sowing with intention, watching and waiting impatiently for the seedling, then kicking the ground when it doesn’t come fast enough or it’s not what we desired. How can we enjoy the beauty of what’s around us if we become so focused on something that must happen in its own time and beauty?

I’ve learned more about relationships being alone than actually being in one. The demands that I thought I needed as a young girl seem like silly notions now as a woman. I thought I wanted to be married, but now I’m unsure. My idea of marriage was in the traditional sense of dating, becoming engaged, and then marriage. I now only want to married if we both naturally come to it. Spiritually, life has caused my traditional senses to fly out of the window. I can envision myself with a long time lover if we are both happy, committed to what our relationship holds. Sometimes I smile at the thought of having many lovers, being candid with each about the other. What I know now is that I never want to be with someone for the sake of being with someone. I don’t want to be unhappy and I don’t want someone else unhappy with me. I don’t want to waste years of my life simply because of familiarity. If we took the risk and it “failed”, then let’s take another. Who knows, maybe it’ll lead us back to one another again.

We come into this world alone, physically. But it’s the soul that craves the connection from which we left. Sometimes I catch it with my own eyes in the way people interact. When the eye lingers on the beauty of another, a shy smile when we’re gushing over someone, the longing to hold the hand of your child, it’s everywhere. That feeling should remain fresh, untainted, and valued. It is the lust for life that we should never lose.

The Lonely Speaks.

Loneliness can be so…tangible.

We grow up with the fear of loneliness. It takes years for the mind to wrap itself around the thought that loneliness can exist in a world full of people. It seems like such a taboo topic to even mention; as if saying it out loud makes it contagious, and then you’re sick with it. Safe zones have been music, poetry, paintings, anything in the arts. But a conversation about loneliness can wreak of perceived desperation and depression. I guess it’s fair enough to believe the heavy negative connotation synonymous with loneliness. One thing I’ve learned is the impossibility to truly describe it to another. No one tells you how thick air can feel when you’re lonely. How a space can feel smaller, how it gently brushes your eyelashes, how it diminishes a smile. Haven’t you noticed how you curl up when you wish you weren’t lonely? Sometimes I feel as if I’ll turn my head and see it standing there, finally becoming physical to either apologize or jeer at me.

Sometimes loneliness can be a welcome relief, but you’ll rarely hear someone choosing to be lonely call it loneliness. Being alone can make the world feel a bit less dizzy and offer peace in the time your being needs it. I envy those who have the choice of wanting to be alone or spending time with those that chase the lonely’s away.

Then you have those who are like me. Choosing loneliness because there is a stable comfort in it. We’re not happy here, but it feels so much safer. That’s where this loneliness stemmed from; fear. Fear in being vulnerable and allowing others to truly see us. Scared that no one can ever truly love us the way we are, and wanting to keep that type of pain as far as possible away from us. Loneliness becomes predictable. It settles in its favorite corner where it can see everything you’re doing and ignores our ache to connect. It turns up the volume on Babyface and Mary J, and is quick to heighten every reminder of unpleasant experiences with others. Loneliness fights hope as soon as the sun rises and dances on you in the black of night. You never realize that it becomes you until you’re trying to get rid of it.To get it out of your house, YOU have to get out of the house. To stop its growth in silence, you have to speak up. To be vulnerable you have to shed the stability and safety you feel it provides, because it’s not real. We all have to be vulnerable to connect. We cannot allow our past circumstances to build a wall of scorned indifference towards love and not wanting to be lonely. It’s absolutely tougher than it sounds, but it allows you to live a full life, risks and all. Take the opportunity to sit with your loneliness, giving it less power. Think about who you were when you were hurt and who you are now. Are you willing to understand that you can heal? Do you love yourself enough to try? Find understanding in the pain to allow space to learn from it. Then grow. Then Love. <3.

The Thing About Love.

We’re so scared of something that embodies us and the thought of this drives me crazy.

Terrified of giving and receiving what we crave the most. Constantly putting up walls and fortresses with the lookout. Quick to cut off any ripple in the pond of possibility. Changing who we truly are to become something that someone can accept. Finding ways to manipulate a situation. It’s all so…chaotic. What in the actual fuck are we doing?

I can’t tell you when or where it was when we stopped unfurling our fists and extending our arms to love. We’ve become so paralyzed with the fear that Love isn’t for us. We create pockets in the costumes of our lives where we stuff our emotions and feelings, hoping that they remain hidden in the hope that they won’t be used as tools against us. We shut the lights off on our own shine, hoping that we can be loved in the dark as it will become easier to disappear once wounded. We are running from who we are and what we need to survive. Placing hope and faith in temporary experiences, hoping it makes up for the lack of what we indefinitely need. We idolize those who give the appearance of what we desire without questioning if they are truly happy and if they are, how did they get to such a magical place?

I’m here to tell you the thing about Love because I’m tired.

Love is the most important thing in life. It is the highest aspiration. It is what saves you from yourself. The right step in front of the left, the memory you cherish most, and the smile in the mirror. Love is in the snort of your laugh, the way those shoes make you feel, your child snoring, the people you miss. Love is everything. EVERYTHING. And that is why it hurts so bad to think you are unworthy of it. We are not. We are always worthy of who we are.

I can sit here and tell you that Love requires Self Love and that we all need to heal ourselves. All of that is true. But before all of that, know and accept that you are an embodiment of Love and deserving of its inheritance. What is right now will not always be. Allow yourself the freedom to let go of the idea of what you thought was Love. Allow yourself the right for that idea to change and for you to seek out what your soul needs.

The Other Side of the Moon Pt. II

I have trouble with love. My history has been riddled with betrayal, lies, infidelity, and distrust. I have no permanent memory of true love. In fact, when I think of love, I have an unsettling memory. I’m in a fetal position on the floor of my bedroom, looking at my sideways reflection in my floor length mirror asking “why does everyone leave?” I can recall thinking that if I laid there long enough, God would take me quietly and the question would no longer exist, as I would no longer exist. Every time someone I love hurts me, the same memory along with the same question makes an appearance.

I used to think I was cursed. Sometimes I still do. When my experience with love becomes a topic in my therapy sessions, I’m quick to point out that people go through worse in life and in love. My reaction is now known to me as a trauma response. When I cried as a child, my mother would say similar words to me about people suffering worse than I. I understood what she was trying to do, but it always made me feel worse. I felt selfish for feeling. Can you imagine? My current therapist is painstakingly trying to have me address my pain and I appreciate her for her efforts. I’m beginning to see myself now. My pain needs a voice too. I have discovered the love I need to give myself, but I have pointedly ignored my belief that I feel unloveable by others. I don’t believe in love for myself, but I am vigilant in my hope and belief for love when it comes to others. Always. Every time I have been hurt, I pocket it because somewhere in my complex mind, I believe it’s supposed to happen because it’s ME. I believe that every hurt inflicted supports my unshaken belief that no one can ever truly love me. My unconvinced heart rejects the notion, but the wound is deep, making it real enough feel almost truthful. Ever hopeful, despite the confusion, I know my heart would rather kill itself before it is convinced.

I have meaningful relationships with a few friends I hold close to my heart. Sometimes I find myself wondering why anyone would ever want to be friends with me. Other times I feel inadequate in how much I provide in my friendships. The seed of it all stems from my doubt in reciprocated love. It is hard for me to truly connect the way I yearn to with other people. I have also hurt others in previous relationships, especially in the form of negative reciprocity; if you hurt me first, I make it my goal to make sure you are hurt last. I am slowly beginning to take accountability for it. The pain of previous relationships has caused me to put a halt in dating. Taking a mental look at myself has also shed a light to the fact that I am conditioning myself for a life alone. There are decisions I am physically making in preparation of a life in solitude. It is the safest way to protect myself moving forward.

I desire love, peace, happiness, and the freedom to allow love into my life. But it seems like an unattainable star. Something so far, that it looks tiny in life’s sky, but must be beautiful up close. My feelings of self worth have been effected in every way imaginable. I can acknowledge all this, but I have no clue how to heal myself from it. My heart’s evidence is hope, while my mind’s evidence is all the heartaches of my past. Evidence…conviction. Who can argue?

I know that I must face each wound, individually. But I’m afraid it may kill me. I’m almost convinced it might. I hate feeling so deep sometimes. I don’t know what is on the other side of facing each one. Can my heart take it?

This convoluted experience with love is the crux of my vulnerability. The source of my intangible fear.

The Other Side of the Moon

My therapist keeps calling me out. However, she’s easier to ignore than God.

I have an issue with Love. I’ve talked about loving myself and showing up for myself, but I don’t acknowledge the pain. You can’t heal what you won’t face, but I can’t. It hurts too much. I’m scared it will swallow me whole and I will become the monster that lives inside of me. I know I’m being forced to face it, or maybe a better word is called. Sometimes life forces you to break but I’m tired of bleeding Love.

My childhood is an emotionally splintered one. My brother, sisters, and I have separate relationships with one another even in adulthood. There have been times I have been closer with one over another, or multiple at different times. I try to make each family member understand the other because understanding has always been my emotional currency. My older sister has always been impressionable growing up, but we’ve always been close. She has a type A personality and in fight-or-flight, she will always choose flight. I would (and have) fight for her any day, we speak often, I’m the godmother of her first child (I consider myself the godmother of the second too, my sweet twin!) As we grew older, my sister being easily influenced by friends turned into being manipulated by men. For this reason, and many others, my mother and older sister became estranged and the difficulty to bridge that relationship has been difficult for me. I know their relationship is not my responsibility, but I fight for my family because of all the pain we have been through. Recently, my sister has turned this self-created doubt onto me, and it has broken our relationship. She doesn’t think so, but I know it has. We won’t be the same.

In my relationships with people I care for, I try my best to ensure they feel that I love them. I recognize it as a trauma response because I never want anyone to feel how I feel and how I’ve felt since I was a child. I wish people would turn their attention to love, and how needed it is for people to thrive in life. I want the best for those who I love. I’ve emptied my cup, and in turn, sought love elsewhere because I didn’t have anything left to give myself. Now that I am trying to heal my inner child and provide love to myself, I must face the other side of my moon.

The pain.

A therapist in my past once told me I don’t ignore pain like I think I do, but I feel it briefly, then carry it and move along as if it’s not there. I can only personally relate it to picking up a pebble in my path in life. As I travel along, I pick up rocks of various sizes and save them in whatever pocket or crack in my body I can find. Eventually, I become emotionally stunted and need to release stones but I can’t. I’ve become used to their weight and the way they mold to my body. They’ve become a part of me, and how do you separate yourself from oneself? I don’t allow myself the freedom to speak about the pain I’ve endured. I stopped writing for years to avoid doing it as well. Speaking of it reminds me I’m human, and makes the pain fresh and real all over again.

But here I am. Heartbroken, crying for the past three days over the gulf that is beginning to spread between my sister and I. I don’t know if I will ever see my nephews again.

And I cursed myself.

I cursed myself for not protecting myself against anyone being close to me. I feel like my heart is leaking and the feeling spreads into every orifice of my body with each tear. I can subconsciously feel myself allowing the pain to become formidable, turning into a new wall to shield myself from hurt. I’m triggered. Triggered like a motherfucker. The catalyst for addressing my pain, hurt and sadness rooted deep in me, has been born.