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Promise

Lately I feel like I am in a bubble

One that I created by myself

And I don’t know why.

What am I running from?

Who am I punishing?

Why am I putting myself in situations

Where I feel less than?

Why am I isolating myself to a point

Of no return, letting go of relationships

I hold dear and then hating myself for it

What’s with the stupid punishment?

Let’s take an oath to love ourselves,

The way the people around us do

Because if you and I can’t love ourselves

All that’s in the world is time passing by

And us waiting for the day

When time starts to slow

And we regret all the time we spent putting ourselves down

While we should have been bring ourselves up.

 

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This Is Ape Shit

You know, no one ever tells you

that losing control is hard work,

It’s not something you can just do

Because the results can be catastrophic.

Losing control takes a certain skill

To know when it’s okay to let go

Without fucking up your entire life.

But see, that’s not really losing control

When you premeditate WHEN to lose it.

My sister always tells me to loosen up, live a little,

To loosen the bridle once in a while.

To her I ask:

Woman, when is this ‘while’ you speak of?

And where can I find it?

If I find it and don’t stumble across it,

Does it still count as letting go?

Since I went seeking for it?

Does going ape shit count as losing control?

WHAT IS ‘LOSING CONTROL’?!

Like I said losing control is hard work,

(Partially probably because I don’t know what it MEANS exactly)

Even my self control, which has been putting in 24 hours a day

Everyday- religiously, thinks so.

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Cages

What they don’t tell you about the process of metamorphosis is that it is never easy , you’re constantly trying to break out of your cage all the while trying to stay safely tucked in it. From the mother’s womb and beyond, we are in a constant state of trying to break free and become humans. Granted, some do a better job than others (although how do we determine the quality of someone’s humanity when it opens up the can of worms aptly titled objective versus subjective ‘facts’), we all partake that journey- hopping from one cocoon to the next until we reach our graves, back to the womb of the Mother (Earth). Metamorphosis of the physical is irrelevant as we are born from a womb and at the end of the days we are returned to another- that of the planet. It is the metamorphosis of the mind that profoundly changes: from the moment we take our first breath of air to the moment we take our last. The cages we live in are within our own minds and to get out of them is never easy.

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Playing

We are puzzle pieces

That don’t belong together

But I keep pushing

But I keep losing.

It’s frustrating.

 

You remember

The feeling?

Of trying to put

A circle into a square?

That’s what it

Feels like.

Like I am on the

Wrong side.

For trying to do this.

 

There’s no real reason

For me to keep you.

But it’s like my pride

Has made it

Its mission.

 

My world would be better

If I stop with you.

But I keep playing

I keep saying,

There is something.

When there is nothing.

You aren’t my puzzle piece.

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Rather not

Sometimes I catch a glimpse

Of who I have become

And I hate it.

I hate this part

Where between right and wrong

I stay paralyzed,

Unable to make a choice

Because fear and insecurity plague me.

I don’t want to feel. 

I really don’t want to feel.

Feeling makes me do things

I rather not do,

Be things I rather not be.

And I rather not be

If the person I glimpse in the mirror

Is who I am meant to be.