Morning Affirmation

I made a decision this morning that even at my lowest I’m a gem. 
The reality of being a woman, maybe more so than being human, is on my morning run I would prefer to listen to the sounds of my environment 
But I feel safer listening to music and becoming solid in my aloneness, my breath, the hard slap of my heels on the concrete 
Than listen to the horns 
The hoots 
The hollers 
I would rather match my pace to some trap 
Than feel the slow creep of you hiding behind your tint
There are so many strong qualities about this queen besides the power in my step 
I ain’t here for window shopping 


A sense of knowing

First wave
Sheer power propelling me forward
Layers of change
Momentum of nature
Mindful of the arena
Senses heightened
Warm crisp wind blowing by my ears
Notes of Salt and Sea on my tongue
Rough friction of wax on my toes
Bright blinding light blonding my brows
Sun Rays gently kissing my body
Loving unconditionally
As if a past lover
Delicately exciting my cells
Feeding my soul
Accepting me

I remember a poster when I was
Worked from the sand and the surf
Sun kissed
it read-
God’s Arena
And for a moment
I understood



I’m stuck in this place of me. This place between the person I am and the person I desire to be. This gaping bridge between my soul and reality has existed for years. Knowing this is part of the human experience, it varies from journey to journey. Knowing in the scheme of things my bridge is not as daunting or constricting as others, yet it is still my experience. Rough, raw, thrashing, narrow, gaping, isolating, frustrating, oscillating, inherently beautiful. A by product of soul, experience, consciousness, genetics, nurture, goals, ideals, and wishes. How much of my gap is reality. How much is ideal. What am I really capable of.

Is self deeply ingrained like twisted knotted roots of ancient trees: strong, determined, rough, lived, unwavering, solid.

Is self surface like weeds in a garden, twisting, covering, shallowly hiding truths amongst an invasive, aggressive desire to be seen.

It’s true. My personality is a collage of others. Is collecting people like a slow forming cancer. Over time parts of my soul being traded like sexual acts for small coins and horror stories.

Desiring nothing more than a meeting of souls. Love experiences. Shared moments. The rarity of the blockade of flesh, consciousness, perspective momentarily being removed in a concert of mindfulness. A small glimpse into the layer between humanity and the heavens. Come as you are, not as expected, desired, as wanted.

Is the fear of humiliation, shame, failure, loss, guilt, alienation, the basic drive of human consciousness. Are inferior feelings the real intimacies.

Is happiness intimate.

Are we motivated by other forces. Am I just neurotic, to concerned with the social ideal than my ideal. Still holding on the idea that I belong in the majority. Although the experience of time has brought me to a deeper acknowledgement of this gap.

There is something Inherently different about me. A struggle to effectively communicate. The bundle of words from my brain getting knotted, attacked, misinformed with in myself before spilling out in a putrid puddle of undecipherable nonsense. Constantly misunderstood. Changing vocabulary, method of delivery, thinking before speaking, methods and tactics recommended to me by peers, thinkers, teachers, mentors. Something I must do I must change. I’m wrong you’re right.

Trapped. Helpless. I must do the work to maintain your mold, to reach your level.
Paranoid. Don’t speak. Ah, but I must. Is this reality. Constantly checking. Asking. Is this psychosis. Am I just unintelligible.

How did I get here. When did this start. This isn’t a new feeling. This isn’t a new occurrence. This is the gap. This is the elephant in the room that can’t be acknowledged. There is no name for it, it’s not readily identifiable but it is there. It takes time to be seen, but it is there. This is my reality but what is it.

Being frank.
Secretly emotional.
Damaged goods.
Old soul.
Foul mouthed.
Strong willed.

Something inherently different. No finger has been placed, no word identified. Maybe if I gather my ouija board and ask the underworld. Will it help if it has a name. Will I be able to face my truths or demons. Is it static.

What if it is just inherently me.

A lesson Learned

Mistakes, plenty
Jump in too fast
Bleeding heart
Living through others
Wasting time
In you I found
– what I don’t want to be
A dreadful Lost soul
Forever stuck in an alcohol induced state
Mood swings
Heart blackened,
charred from years of unattended rage
I’m Dark,
yes, I devour souls
Loving hard, living fast

You are a shallow, empty, void
Living fast
running from life
A shell of a person,
stranded in this hell you have created
Manipulating the world to bleed for you
Always Playing with fire
To your flame, I danced
Intoxicated by your presence
Before you I was naive
I thought all souls were worth saving
Then I saw behind the curtain
The abhorrent being that is your existence
I wish nothing but the best for you,
But I won’t be caught holding my breath