8/8/2021 0 Comments Blocked Off BoxI never want to feel like my old self anymore. Rather, embrace my current state. There is only this moment and yes, the next will come and so on... but that's what inspires me. Finding each new thing that comes my way and accepting it as part of who I am. Claiming to be more spontaneous. Acting on things I want. Fired up, blazing to seek after what I fear most. Uncomfortable feelings of failing and fixing until I succeed. Without the need to put any shame with nonsense comparisons of "the old me". Creating a box around your brain in this way inhibits true growth. I don't want to talk about who I was or what I need. Simply being here, realizing that, that's all I've ever had. The only existence that matters is the flesh of life right now.
KH 8/5/2021 1 Comment The Cost of Strengththree cups of coffee have me shaking while sitting with bitter taste buds. steam hinders the view from my glass filled rims. my nimble fingers clasp the polished, black, hard-to-hold handle, of my coffee cup. i inhale and hold it until a pulse flickers throughout my veins. pink and orange flash as i close my eyes.
i have had three cups of coffee before the sun rose. silence fills the humid air around me; normally this is comforting. today, though, my skin is damp and my limbs lay heavy. each blonde hair raises. sipping from the now cold and stagnant cup. finding the guts to look at these hands... something in me refuses to mention, to acknowledge the damage i continue to bandage. reheating this third cup of coffee reminds me of desperate attempts made at providing warmth to the creeping, frostbitten days of my past. bruises still show from the times i drunkenly let you take all of my pride. held down and tied. unable to seek out somewhere to hide. i cycle through numbing memories. deep purple flashes as i close my eyes. maybe one day ill give tribute to what it takes, baring the weight of what gave me my strength. to take back what was always mine. 7/3/2021 0 Comments GUODbeing born into darkness
means to grow used to intimately cold feelings of shadows that lurk stripped bare of protection from the past an unmarked tombstone lies grown over and untouched yet, that doesn't always ease harrowing whispers unwelcoming hands gripping constant reminders that there is cynical blood running through these veins 7/2/2021 0 Comments Mushroomswith each moment that passes i feel the weight of the world grow heavier. there are countless berserk instances where i wish to smash every clock, every watch, any object that tells time; just so i can put a halt to things. a few seconds of pure ignorant bliss. some days i cannot bare to grip and carry the tonnage amount of suffering. over some period of time, i know these seams will begin to whether. there are no binders for the human soul. what i have come to know is that the only way out of such distress, is to invite it in.
so i sit here. a hazel brown cup of coffee steams into the humid air. i clasp it and sip. the sting of the heat brings a smirk upon these lips. once you flip the coin it becomes perceptible that behind the veil of ignorant bliss, lies the truth: the sting brings lessons. go on then, create endless logs, tell all you encounter of the weight of the world. give a scripture of your own life showing tribute to these struggles, lug them with you. unhappiness is only a shadow. once the light is seen, one cannot help but rejoice in the newfound wisdom. never relinquish that power. only renounce the impure desires, the ones who sip the coffee and complain about the uncomfortable sting. 6/14/2021 0 Comments Restlessly AlertStartled and fully awake at the usual 4am can't-sleep hour. Palpitations from my chest cement me into this moment and I have an inclination that things won't change anytime soon. Six months into this year and there's not a single night that's passed with ease. A humming silence fills my bedroom while my mind runs dry. No rest for the wicked, no sleep for the yearning.
6/7/2021 0 Comments Soul Suckedreluctant and exhausted
i swing my feet to meet the day once more staring into a dark room thoughts begin to stir how lovely would it be for one waking instance to find myself wide-eyed and refreshed kissing each morning again 5/17/2021 0 Comments Clear Skies in the Psychotic Mindi have spent countless days staring at these bags
trying to make something of it the weight of reality broke through my skin oh, someone save me from the truth my lover did not want this soul the chaos attached feelings so pure & deep were pushed aside all my dear wished for was good weather only the homely feeling that it brings after we parted droplets of grief & confusion streamed down these warm, rosy cheeks left with no choice these bags had to be sorted through i accepted that this was the only way to refill after being drained of a part of myself a mourning for who i once was, who i am & for having to let go of the one who made time move differently 5/8/2021 0 Comments Scarred OverCalluses have formed
On my knuckles and finger tips As I have been Picking and pulling Tugging and digging Bleeding and healing For months now Today is particularly sunny Each grey, weedless, brick is cleared One of my orchids is creating A purple and white specked blossom Streams of wind gust across this patio An opportunity has arrived To close my tired eyes and listen Just for a moment While the breeze whispers I look down at the toll taken On these worn out hands Waves of relief roll, awakened Realizing, in the midst of May I've made it through March |
AuthorI have been writing ever since I can remember, growing up. Introduced to the world of exploration through language at a young age, by an old friend, benefited me in ways I never would have known at the time. This is a space for me to be vulnerable and bold. I am here to relate to those around me, to express the things that make me sad and excited. I can only wish that these words touch some of my audience and perhaps we can inspire each other, in the long run. Archives |