misguided soulmates

1.25.2020.

like a character in my favorite books:

charismatic with a

carefully constructed laugh.

never angry, always composed.

their light dims.

darkness screams at you

telepathically.

we hopped onto the carousel.

one stepped off. the other stayed.

skipped back on board.

jumped off. gripped harder.

the headache from the dizziness

made her faint. she woke up

to an cloudy sky and an empty lot.

following a closed

third eye,

they walked onto dirt roads,

separately.

the self love journey:

will it ever be complete?

misguided when they should be

led by their highest selves.

the evolution:

“keep going.”

post-run

5.30.21.

earbuds in,

cord hanging loose,

music blaring:

I observe the scenery.

Somber faces

on auto-pilot.

I wonder if my own face

appears as detached or curious

as I would hope.

I concentrate on my

movement,

and ruminate on my

growth.

the past years have been

sessions on defining boundaries.

why do I seek anything in others when I can

give back to my self?

the fear is melting from my

conditioning. I think in Freedom,

but still walk in Hesitation.

balance is achievable.

self-acceptance has

arrived.

welcome to the soul

behind the vessel.

اهلا عزيزي

misunderstood

I used to keep all of my feelings nuzzled inside, and when they seeped out, I learned to joke to explain it all.

Charm them!

Or:

I’d fight to say bare minimum.

Walls.

Highly sensitive, I didn’t know how to put words to feelings.

Too many feelings!

I sat in my front yard and ran my fingers across the grass. Nature understood me.

Calm.

It was in these states of stillness I didn’t need to be understood.

There I felt a divine connectedness.

Temporary feelings felt trivial.

Words, unnecessary.

“Misunderstood” is pushing too hard to think I am so different I must not be human.

Confused states pass.

I understand.

Be Alone

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in a world led by people sickly obsessed with temporary things — having undistracted time alone is a connection with your soul.

“do you love yourself?” is not a complex question, yet it is feared. in their fearfulness, they confuse being alone with loneliness. codependency over self-reliance.

independence is self-love through mindfulness, through the mutual support received and given, through the knowledge you’re part of a greater but flawed whole.

imperfect humans needing mending from what isn’t healed is our continuous journey. anxiety manifests as a need to control.

time alone teaches you’re only in control of yourself.

release, let light in — Be Alone.

beginnings

new beginnings

wait for us to

keep an open mind.

they sit at the steps

until we squeeze past

them to the door.

singing to us these

impressive, impending

triumphs. “be brave.”

we don’t listen. we are rebel

children without strategy.

we live with anger.

pride as our dishonest guide.

black paint on our walls.

we haul buckets of burgundy

and splash all that we were

given. destroying everything

because we feel we deserve

nothing.

tainted our gifts.

we color our dark hair gold.

replicas

of those against the revolution.

the revolution is self love,

says the approaching

beginnings. they lean in.

angels disguised as ghosts.

our walls are purified.

alive.

viva the lessons.

compliments & comparisons

west coast paid pretty,

east coast esteemed wit,

and the south with our

frizzy hair

and our humility.

boost us up as we are.

sweet tea or pressed juice.

coffee black, please.

our perception of pretty is

individualistic. we are who we

claim we are,

and that should be enough.

expect us to compare ourselves

if led to believe we are incomplete.

be like her? but she isn’t me.

our journey to acceptance

doesn’t

require your adoration.

only your understanding.

know us as we are today.

Our Darkness

share a secret with

reflections of our darkness.

“I’ve never told anyone this.”

if i fix her, maybe i can fix

the hollow parts of me. oh.

i can just fix me?

as the others were outside

being carefree, he said, staring

at the TV’s trauma unfold,

“Happened to me, too…”

not an overshare,

a reveal of what was seen

without being said.

me with a face that screams,

“Tell me your secrets!”

but a mouth unaware of how

to begin. “I understand,” say my eyes. my heart knows. my memories are still asleep.

don’t disturb her

uneasy

rest.

home

the idolization of nomads

from a potted plant, freshly

watered. peeking through the

blinds at the adventures

That Could Be.

a scent carries around

my leaves. a home I once

visited. i feel comforted.

musk, dust, and its loneliness

sneaks through when i’ve

decided to forget. no invitation

back. my home is here in the silence.

the past awaits me. i prepare for

it as the future pokes me, telling

me what it’s like to feel empowered.

i yawn and the scent of the

unwelcoming home fades. my

leaves shudder. i see tiny backpacks

spin to reveal giggling vagabonds.

they seek adventure.

i seek solace.