Trapped 2

My heart is heavy 
                                and I don’t want to wake 
up along side the sun…
I want my body to be buried beneath many moons-

               

                until I’m able to find my smile again.
                       It hurts-
                                        It hurts everywhere.
The weight pressing on my chest isn’t anxiety, 
                       it’s my soul feeling trapped.

Trapped 

Sometimes I get really jealous of people who have the pleasure of writing everyday.
They get to release their burdens and improve their art -I just feel stuck and occasionally stupid.
Having an overflow of emotions and not being to release it, is frustrating.
My words come out like scribbles.
No one knows what they mean.
I’m unable to connect.
I can no longer turn to words 

When the sky is draped in black 

And I’m no longer in need of sleep…

09/04/2016

Waiting on the sun to sleep

I allow my clothes to grace my ankles. 

I turn on the shower – 

Grab a wine glass and make it less hollow. 

Slip into the shower with the the sole purpose of scrubbing my soul clean from anything a that is not me.  

In pursuit of nothing less than self intimacy 

Longing to be intimate with myself, and only me.  

Hot waters hit my back, 

hot vapors hit the ceiling, 

dancing in the air, 

graciously existing my body, 

Stripping away characters that remain long after the person leaves. 

Long after the pain. 

Finally allowing me to enjoy my company.. 

My body now feels like home to me.

Laying naked, un ashamed of baring my flaws. 

At this point, I am aware that nobody matters more than me. 

I get cosy with no intention of touching myself, but rather to invite myself and let myself know me more.

Reintroducing myself to my scars. 

Identifying features beyond intertwined branches, drawn from places much deeper – rooted trees in the soil.

– Mirror Conversation 

  
You’re the real meaning of staying but leaving.
A cross between a hurricane and tremor infused in water.
But you’re not a disaster,
And you don’t cause one,
But somehow those around your feel the aftermath of your presence,
And It’s not as pretty as you look.
You wonder why people who love you, never want you to stay.
You wonder why they say you keep pushing them away.
There’s just something about you that doesn’t scream “safe”.

-Mirror Conversation 

Throwback 

   
I came across this piece just now and I was completely unaware that I wrote it, until I was half way through. 

In those seconds, it dawned on me how unbelievablely easy it was for me to write about topics I had absolutely no idea of.

Now, that I’m learning to be aware of my emotions, writing has become such a foreign talent of mine.

Long story short, I can finally relate to what what I used to write about and now that I’m experiencing it, I find it difficult to write.