Evolution

 

You’ve changed.
That’s what they keep telling me.

You’ve… changed.

Of course,
you’re right.
I’m not the
vulnerable,
young girl
I used to be.

I won’t walk around
with my head down,
chin staring blankly at the concrete,
to hide the teardrops
streaming down my cheeks –
no, not anymore.
I won’t suck in my stomach to impress you.
I won’t foam at the mouth for your
insignificant validation.
I won’t restrict or suppress
my mind,
decline
to articulate my soul
in fear of being ridiculed.

No, not anymore.
This little light of mine
I’m gonna let it shine.
Even if it’s blinding to your
eyes.

You know why?

I remember saying out loud
“I hate myself”.
couldn’t bare to
glare at
my reflection
without being reminded
of the words I heard –

he said
she said
they told me

“you aren’t worthy”
and I
believed
them.

Dear diary,
I wish I was beautiful.
what’s wrong with me?

I recall
the
nauseated feeling
in my stomach
I’d get from seeing the
morning sunshine.
My dad having to drag me
out of bed each morning
because I didn’t want to be awake to begin with.
I remember walking in the school
building like
a walking corpse
bones aching
hands trembling
face radiating warmth
from my blood pressurerising
heart palpitating
knees
intertwining
in fear of fear itself.
I remember
sitting in the back of class
like a wallflower yet to bloom
aching to be noticed
but begging internally
not to be approached,
only speaking unless
spoken to first.

I remember the
masterpieces
I painted on my wrists
so passionately,
I tried to hide with
long sleeves in the summer
and stacks of silver
and gold jewelry.

I remember when I
gave myself
pep talks in the mirror
on the nights
I ached with desperation
to leave this world-

I told myself,
listen –
Someday,
you and me.
We… will be amazing.
Everything is
going to change.

And now,
I love myself
I wink at my reflection
every time we meet.
Damn gurl, you look
so beautiful
inside and out –
you make younger me so proud.

Now, in her loving memory –
I caress this
goddess given
throne every chance I get,
acknowledge my intellect
treat myself with the utmost respect.
I adore this glorious
hourglass figure
these full hips
and insightful
uncensored lips.
I now utilize
negativity
as spite
to further amplify
the rhythm
of my heartbeat,
satisfy the
fibers of which
my mind speaks.

Now,
I purposely
smile blissfully
laugh obnoxiously
exist unremoursefully
speak uncensored
breathe,
however I ache
to do so,
because I learned…

I deserve to
grow into the
rare caliber
of woman I
have transformed into.

So,
When you say
“You’ve changed”,
I would hope so.

I am better than I was.
and I will be even
better than I am.

I’m only just
getting started.

How To Love

 

I am almost 20 years old and I have never been in a relationship.

My soul is just too sacred,
my mind is too powerful,
my heart is too golden
to let it be touched
by anyone with impure intentions.

So,
I involuntarily flinch every time a guy grows close to me emotionally –

Don’t take it personally,
It’s not you. It’s me.
It’s a natural impulse of mine to fear attachment to any human being.
After spending my entire existence watching my mom be dominated by a man who believes he is in control of her every word, breathe, movement and action.
I’ve had no choice but to sit back idly,
as he knocks on the bathroom door until his knuckles bleed just to get to her on the other side who was likely glaring at her reflection attempting to collect the remains of her sanity.
After reliving the aftermath on the daily –
Nobody can ever tell me,
nor dare to attempt to convince me,
that I owe anyone an apology for refusing to grant them access to me.

Mark my words, after all I’ve observed –
I will be damned if I ever dare allow a man to have the audacity to label me as his property.
I will never owe anyone an apology for openly,
enunciating the words to him thoroughly.
“I belong to me.”

This,should be common knowledge.
But common sense is unfortunately,
far from common.
Ignorance is caressed with open arms far too often.
I promise,
out of all the vulnerable words
I release into the galaxy –
you won’t ever hear me say sorry.
Especially not when I’ve had men old enough to be my father verbally harass me,
broad daylight in the streets of the insomniac city –
with what it supposedly deemed to be complimentary.
Uncomfortably whispering in my ear,
Baby, come here…
I must admit –
after I unlearned what this society had previously taught me.
I was able to recognize that I have
have more to offer than my thick thighs and a 36C sized chest.

Yes, even then…
I am so much more than a body.
I am a mind, heart, soul, spirit,
with passion, ambition, and intriguing intellect.
Hence,
don’t ever be surprised that I refuse to
ever settle for less than the absolute best.
Keeping it real,
nothing has ever fueled me more than striving for the impractical.
That’s why my standards are ridiculously high
and I insist on being unbareably high maintenance.
It’s unhealthy but I only ever ache to make love with the impossible.
I only crave what’s forbidden,
Like…
human interaction, affection, love, and attention.
It’s evident that the environment I was raised in –
is entirely to blame for my unconscious quivering hands,
shaky knees, and crippling social anxiety.
I’d love to understand the deeper
physcology as to why
despite my expectations,
I just can’t resist the temptation
but to fall for a guy who settled for her, over me…
and is content with
letting me be his second choice

Backup option.

Whatever.

Plan B.

Maybe.

Almost.

What if.

Just in case.

Like, I’m not a priority.

When I should be. When I am.

Even on the days he’s intertwining his soul
with some girl who will never love him as much as me,

I will still keep myself up past 3
bleeding on my satin bed sheets,
composing poetry about him,
that he’ll never even read.

Maybe I just love it when people hurt me.

Because negativity fuels me.

Hatred amplifys me.

Caressing pain with open arms is the only way I know how I survive.

I grew up learning to believe I was supposed to tolerate abuse because
apparently –

if a man loves you,
He’ll tell you that the door is always open for you to go,
But once you’ve finally had enough and your bags are finally packed –
He’s contradicting himself, holding you back

But yelling…

Go ahead and leave –

You will never find someone who will “love you like me.”

Evidently,
if a man cares about you –

he will immerse you in the twisted art of reverse physcology.
Manipulating you into believing being emotionally traumatized
is a confirmation of his love for you.

I was convinced by the age of 5 that romance was alive when my mom would

call the police past midnight,

only to open the door when they arrive with bruised eyes

and a voice behind her back

telling her to say

“Nothing’s wrong officer, I overreacted”.

I was convinced that love was staying

despite him having yet another

emotional breakdown,
yet Another bipolar tantrum.

Exhibiting yet another instance of domestic violence.

But love is supposed to make you feel like you can’t breathe, right?

When my dad had his arms gripped around her neck.

It confirmed the answer to be yes.

Love is supposed to make you feel like your suffocating anyway, isn’t it?

Little me remembers,

She will never forget

asking, “Mommy When are you going to leave daddy?”

Please Don’t cry.

Let’s start packing our bags right now.

Let’s just runaway from home and never look back.

Mommy

Listen,

I don’t know if you have ever known it be real in your life

But please

just look at me

When you need a reminder

Or if you ever forget

What real love is supposed to feel like.

Disconnected

Lyrics :
I’m sorry I didn’t pick up the phone
the first time you were trying to call.
I was reluctant to fall because I was terrified.
Please know,
letting this connection fade was far from my intention.
I figured, I would be damned regardless
if I let you in or if I didn’t.
I predicted this end before it began.

My bad…
My bad.

Oh, I ever imagined I’d be craving you like this.
Maybe, I just want you when I can’t have you…
Reminiscent to the dreams I’m endlessly chasing.
An unhealthy obsession,
I ache to make love with the impossible.
That’s why I…
want you so bad.

Maybe it’s true,
there’s nothing sweeter
than the forbidden fruit.

I wanna taste you,
I only wanna kiss you.

Oh I, can’t help but wonder –
Do the words I never said,
never told you,
echo in your head?
Tell me, do I linger in your wildest dreams the
same way you do in mine?
Do our lips only touch
when our bodies are laying separately,
unconsciously?
Do we communicate
telepathically?
Are we loving each other subliminally?
Does my heart ever intertwine
your mind anymore?

Please tell me,
I’d love to hear the caos in your mind.
We can go, all night.
Cause I’m laying here idle on the phone,
life of the line
on full exposure.
Tell me,
if we’re just getting started
or if it’s truly over.

I want you,
I need you.

Tell me,
is the feeling mutual?

Can we,
connect like we used to?

Loving you when you love someone else
is exhausting.

The assumptions are
killing me softly.

Am I sleeping?
Is it too late?
Am I too far?
Am I too close?

Hello?
Are you… listening?
Do you hear me?
Answer me,
Please…

I’m sorry.
We got so disconnected.

Can we try again?

Blurred Lines.

IMG_1171

     I have a confession to make…
The skeletons in my closet are eagerly awaiting the day
I unlock it and allow them to escape.
They’re dead and yet –
they’re breathing more heavily with anticipation than I am.
We’ve only got each other,
so we stand with trembling knees barely embedded into our sockets,
interlocking our bony fingertips
with the only ghosts loyal enough to remain by our sides.
The same ones who haunt me are the very ones that help me sleep at night.
This ever evolving heart of mine
with thoughts of it’s own consistently up for debate,
emotions running rapidly across the vacancy in my chest,
increasing at an unorthodox pace.
I must confess –
I must express all the thoughts I keep suppressed.
It’s easier said than done.
And yet…

it’s easier done than said.
But the truth of the matter is,
it’s far simpler when it’s written and read.
Why do you think I’m only ever able to
express my adoration for you through the comfort of a text?
Concealing this intricate array of emotions
behind a screen is just as effortless as it is blinding.

I’ve told you so much and yet you haven’t heard a damn thing yet.

But don’t you feel the irony in your bones?

Telling yourself that keeping your heart in your chest rather than giving it to them is better than feeling nostalgic, dreaming hopelessly over what you
would’ve, could’ve, should’ve done differently
but didn’t because you foolishly neglected to caress your intuition.
You’re getting exactly what you’ve been giving.
Now you’re laying in bed alone
twiddling your fingers like a windowed lover,
wishing you had  gulped your ego and
admitted that another human being other than
yourself was  worthy of patience, love, and commitment.
I should’ve told you
how I felt but I didn’t.
At least, not verbally.
I’ve only ever spoken to you authentically
in the corrupted form of songwriting and poetry,
countless pieces
unraveled recklessly, passionately in your honor
that you’ll never hear or read.
What a masterpiece.

What a tragedy.

All these revolutionary ideas held captive by the extent of my own mind –
The same voice that frees me  in the art of expression
simultaneously suffocates me by the throat.
This pride is literally trying to kill me, this will be the death of me.
Between these blurred lines,
hypnotic rhythm,
intriguing rhyme,
is an exhausted mind…
composing these obscured words with a cramped right hand
and three exhausted eyes still grasping onto what’s left.

Attempting to revive it all back to life.

Trying to re-attach flower petals I previously ripped out so viciously amid attempting to convince myself that you ever gave a damn about me.

As time progresses,

this urgency only amplifies just the same.
It’s such a shame,
that I’m not mediocre like the rest –
if I were,
I would be able to say what
I felt… naturally, effortlessly, spontaneously,
without ever thinking twice
about what I could potentially be revealing
by speaking abruptly.
How I wish I could
express myself so nonchalantly, foolishly,blissfully,
ignorantly like the rest and get this pride off my chest.
But I suppose,

 I only ever have myself to blame –
for being conceived with veins beneath my skin
that thrive more sufficiently than the vast majority.
I crave the power to speak these words as effortlessly as I compose,
but it’s abnormal that I only find trust in sheets of paper with the scandals I expose.
I imagine if I told you how I felt in person, I’d only manage to stutter,
the butterflies in my stomach would go mad, viciously flutter.
I’d lose the strength in my knees, my hands would quiver,
my cheeks would erupt in flames, and my spine would shiver.
My thoughts would exceed their own pace, my heart would race in speed,
as the impulse to bite my tongue leads me to internally bleed.
The sweat would trickle down my forehead,
as I foam at the mouth with urgency to confess words unsaid.

Maybe I’ll just write you a letter.
Since unraveling my soul with ink onto a sheet as pale as your daydreams
is the only way I’ve grown comfortable expressing my reality.

Maybe I’ll write a symphony of my most authentic honesty,
I’ll start if off along the thin line between love and hate, saying –

There was and still is nothing that intrigues me more than the poetic blurred lines that reside beneath your palm.

Nothing has ever mesmerized me more than the heart that throbs beautifully in your mind without even trying.

Oh why, do you try to settle it down, insist it be  silent?

The best thing that ever happened to me was being blessed enough to have the universe provoke your energy to gravitate towards me lovingly.

You wandered into my life miraculously and I feel so privileged to know you so intimately, spiritually, beyond skin deep.

I’ll leave this letter somewhere I know you’ll see,
not immediately but eventually.
Somewhere subtle yet obvious-
like,

precisely underneath your pillow.
Strategically placed where your head
rarely ever rests, yet always lies.
I know you work amid
the depths of the night shift,
and you never sleep because your
entire being guilt trips you into remaining awake.
So, I know you won’t read my sincere sentiments until
the universe decides the timing is appropriate –
when the moon is blue,
when the stars are aligned.
Something lingering in the atmosphere
will provoke you to search for what’s always been with you…
At a moment where you’re heart is broken,
mind is grieving over her love lost –
you’ll find me right there.
The reminder laying on your bed,
underneath the hyms of your mind
is where you’ll find comfort.
I have been here all along,
you just didn’t see me…
until it was convenient.

I’ll write you a letter and leave it signed

delicately, intensely, sincerely…

yours truly –

you won’t ever have to wonder who it’s from.

You’ll know by the way the words are intertwined with one another,

that no other woman in the world could’ve sent this other than her –

me.

When are you going to go to sleep?

When are you going to wake up?

I’ve been here all along.

And as much as I wish I was strong enough to say so otherwise,

I always will be.

Because I love you dearly.

I hope you read between the blurred lines,
you’ll surely find what lies embedded beneath this divergent heart of mine.
This is a statement,
not an apology.
Don’t underestimate me or my power
to leave my light exuberant in the darkest hours of the night.
Don’t forget me.
Remember me.

Mark my words –
someday,
eventually,
inevitably,
I will have the audacity to speak my mind as fiercely as I write them.
I will provoke nations, countries, and universes to tremble in intimidation with the fibers of which my mind projects.
Even if –
in the process, it trembles just the same.
If you pay attention,
you may just accomplish the impossible –
absorb what I’m expressing,
receive the actual vibes I’ve been transmitting.
If you wipe the smudges of these blurred lines,
you may just hear what I’ve been trying to
tell you this entire time.
Until I find the courage to say it –
I’ll leave this subliminal message right here.
Half distorted beyond comprehension,
half abundantly clear.

IMG_1170

 

Blue Moon

Once in a blue moon –
my heart overflows with light.
My soul transcends and ignites –
at the mere sight outside my window,
displayed by mother moonlight.
As the particles revolving around my bedroom fall,
her aura seeps through the cracks beneath these four walls.
Blue moon –
her disposition solely,
consoles me.
Now with the essence of her company,

just a little less lonely.
Without saying a word,
this is what I heard.
She, told me….

Don’t you worry.
Close your eyes.
Allow the energy to
radiate of the warmth
of your thighs.
Absorb the spirit of
your own power,
allow it to energize.
Synthesize your self.
Embrace, acknowledge and listen
to your own vibes.
Express your thoughts.
Voice your ideas.
Grasp your dreams.
Capture your vision.
Follow your intuitions.
Form the image in your mind,
then allow them to
crystallize.

She said,
that she’ll always respond…
but strictly based on
what I do,
what I say ,
She warned me –
that what I think is
what I attract.

Trust the universe to give back –
what you provide.
For your own good –
emphasize your highs,
glance lovingly toward
the skies, and release
your pride.
Let the patterns beneath your palm eternally be your
guide.
Search outside,
explore the inside.
You must seek within,
in order to begin.
Please know that in time,
the stars will align,
and everything will be fine.

She said,

Please remember this
after I’m gone,
after I say goodbye.
Promise that you won’t forget
as I fade and
the sun begins to rise.

MXdVzJEOVoNE9YpeDrUPz2AIpq3PxyLeTl7lCIwL8z0

I replied –

Mother moonlight,
You,
remind me of myself.
Always enlightening,
providing,
inspiring
everyone but yourself.
You pour your body,
being, and spirit out
to the entire universe with
little to nothing in return.
You –

just like me,
never get what you deserve.
Rarely receive what you earn.
You –

just like me,
put your soul on display
pour your entire body, being
and spirit out into
the atmosphere only to discover
that nobody is listening
and you’re the only one
who passionately cares.

I know what it’s like…

Displaying your, vulnerability,
exposing yourself,
so beautifully –
on display for the
entire world to see.

With nothing in return but unraveling controversy.
Remarkable blue moon,
so rare, so modest.
You never ask for anything
but to simply be, acknowledged.
Does the ignorance of the world
ever make you cry?
Does it ever wander your
mind as you grace the night sky?
I’m sure you must think,
why…

Why…
are people satisfied in
roaming the world
with closed eyes?
Blue moon,
does it hurt your heart?
After you to put such effort
into absorbing your own light.
After all this time,

you felt you deserved to shine bright
only to, watch the world fall asleep to your sight at night.

Beings like you – only
come along once in a blue moon.
Don’t worry,
I promise that the world
will recognize your worth soon.
They will appreciate you after your
gone, after coming to the realization
that you were a unappreciated
blessing all along.
I promise,
I swear,
They will look up at the sky one night,
they will clutch their chest for dear life
their lungs will flow in despair
once they realize you’re –
nowhere to be seen,
no longer there.
Trust me.
I promise.
once you leave,
people will start to care.
Believe me, the universe has it’s way.
Everything goes around and comes back in miraculous ways.

  P3SrfzZ2huor_55UZkWzjajRgbFHLcXBuuK_ZFyb1FY  fA78WGJ4Dq-wtibZf0CIkLOs42SICI2NRv3xraT3Qsk

Introduction.

Can you tell me alittle about yourself?

I don’t know, Can I?

How much time do you – have?
I can tell you that I am –
beauty, passion, ambition, and – class.
Surpassing the definition of
comprehensive and vast.
As I’m conscious of my own
curvaceous mind.
The stars marvelously align,
when my own fingers intertwine.
Allow me to further clarify –
I never need anyone cause I am,
and always will be – mine.
Every crevasse, every curve
exists in a temple
oh so – divine.
I think therefore I am.
I prevail therefore I can.
I speak therefore I stand.
Beneath my fibers of my olive skin,
lies universes embedded within.

Fully equipped with an
abnormally substantial brain.
I put together my own
previous shattered remains.
So, now soley golden blood flows
along the course of my veins.
And if you must label me,
let it me known –
that I’m tragically,
wonderfully, astoundingly insane.

I genuinely believe,
no – I’m aware, I know
that not a single soul
roaming the earth
owns what I possess.
Never settling for less,
always striving, aspiring, desiring
for more.
My sole aspiration
is to firmly grasp success –
All I ever seek is growth and happiness,
I neglect everything and everyone
that doesn’t
enable me to further progress.
I’m capable of conquering
the world with the slightest
art extension –
Need I mention,
the negativity fuels me into a
being so reckless,
I overflow with vengeance.
You’re probably come to the
conclusion – that
I’m nothing but pretentious.
But I’m not egoistical –
I just recently became aware of the
fact that I’m multi-dimensional.
Basking in the beauty of my own glory
will never make me delusional –
and I refuse to ever apologize
for acknowledging my existence
as breathtakingly beautiful.

I am so much more than my
Thick thighs, and a 36C sized chest.

.Look me in my eyes when you’re talking to me, please.

I pour my lungs, ribs, and soul into
my art.
Where do you expect me to start?
I’m a walking, talking, breathing
thriving – heart on a sleeve.
It’s how I breathe,
how I wake up,
how I sleep –
it enables me to
re-define how I’m initially perceived.

Enter The Void.

 It’s a quarter past ten
and I –
laying here again.
Awaiting on my –
soul to ascend.When will it end?
When will it…

end?

Staring at the ceiling,
internally bleeding.
Craving a heeling,
a great escape –
from this endless void,
this –
vacant feeling.

I’m –
dreaming,
hallucinating,
debating,
these forsaken
thoughts.
I think I –
I hope I –
I want to –
it should be –
it can’t be…It’s half past three –
Universe,
are you almost done with me?
If this is part of the plan,
please…
help me understand.
Cause at this very moment –
it’s a catastrophe.
And I’m trying…
I’m trying,
not to let it get the best of me.
When,
do you intend
on
letting me be?
Do you ever have intentions of,
setting me free?
How much longer?
Until I,
assemble myself
stronger?Universe,
Please –
give me
the date and time.
when my soul arrives –
in outer space.
When can I say I survived?
When will you grant me
access to the sky?
When will you let me
the stars be mine?Universe,
Tell me –
how the void within my chest is as vacant as
you?
Why nobody else understands me
the way you do?How?
Tell me why –
even with the stars revolving
around my heart,
soul and mind –
remarkably intertwined,
How could I not be content
solely with the company of…
mine?These four walls…
you consume my mind.
But I know eventually,
of course –
we don’t know when…
but it’ll all be fine.
In due time –
an inner light,
will ignite.
I tell myself again and again
the stars will…
be aligned –
Universe,
I trust you.
I know we’ll be fine.
Me and you –
just us two.
Me and you.
Bedroom of mine,
Oh –
You’ve absorbed my every thought,
even with my stomach tied in knots –
you
have been my sanctuary spot.
You
witnessed my every action,
every violent reaction,
every time my heart was reduced to a mere fraction,
forsaken moments
where I desired human interaction.
You –
have seen the color of my eyes.
Every eyelash flutter,
every motion,
every time…
I have suppressed burning emotion,
aching for recognition in the midst of silent devotion,
drowning in tears deeper than the ocean.
You –
eavesdropped on my every word and seen
all the sleepless nights that occurred.
Every occasion where I’ve grown further and further absurd,
every silent scream that was never released but never…
 heard.
Universe you –
saw me.
Watched me as I crumbled up my own poetry,
as the weight of the world took it’s tole on me.
All this time…
I was seeking for life,
Looking for you –
when all along the universe was alive,
inside my own bones.Damn…
I am the Universe.
I was talking to myself.

To Whom It May Concern.

This is to whom it may concern.

Consider this my visual display of emotions.
Words unspoken-
as reckless and hypnotic as the waves of the ocean.
The unraveling thoughts I suppress,
the series of unfortunate events I…
never verbally addressed.
These sympathy induced sentiments were never intended,
I only scribbled these screams onto paper for my sole discretion…
amid desperate attempts to enter another dimension.
Dear diary,
I don’t know if I’ll grasp the strength to breathe today –
and I don’t know if you know it yet but it’s going to be okay.
My lungs expand and deflate with the urge convey all I have to say.
But who’s going to listen other than me anyway?
Will anybody dare do the impossible and care?
It’s just my mind and soul mid-prayer,
gasping for air, full of despair.
Clutching this pen awfully tight, 
firmly gripping onto it for dear life.
Hey… note to self –
I don’t know if you know it yet,
but everything is going to be alright.
It was intense,
hands trembling in suspense –
the day my parents found my journal and questioned its contents.
Slightly impressed but extremely concerned,
about the smudges on the page and the lines that were blurred.
Oh my god,
has our daughter gone absurd? 
I wouldn’t be able to put it into words like this if heaven and hell didn’t occasionally exchange a tender kiss.
If I didn’t live a life of constant rejection,
I wouldn’t have been forced to connect with my own reflection –
and recognize the beauty beneath every imperfection.
And though I’d never settle for being average even if I could,
it’s unfortunate to be so often misunderstood. 
Sometimes I wish somebody would…
dare acknowledge my presence,
take note of my essence,
and let me taste the slightest notion of acceptance. 
But everyone and everything is temporary,
I surely don’t fall into the category of the ordinary –
not when I’m a breathing dictionary,
history in the making –
an essence that is and will be, 
legendary.
Who would’ve guessed….
that these thoughts suppressed,
lips compressed –
would’ve led me to create such masterpieces?
Stressed,
depressed
but simultaneously destined for success,
nothing less.
I apologize for not realizing this before,
but I’m beyond….
blessed.
To see the verses I…
created with my own mind,
is like watching the stars align.
 And what do you know?
I finally gave in.
Embraced the recognition of who I am from within,
took notice of the radiating sunshine –
from the outline of the scars on my skin.
And to each and every critic
who claims that I’m nothing but narcissistic,
just to clarify –
I prefer the more accurate label,
tragically artistic.
I could release the skeletons in my closet,
spill every drop of ink.
And still,
not a single soul would know me –
as well as as they think.
It is said that you should always love thy enemy,
so I fell deeply in love with myself.
Her mind, heart, soul, and
all the thoughts she stores in journals along the highest shelf.
I wasted countless years,
drowning in a sea of my own salty tears.
And I swear,
just when I was convinced that nobody on this earth will ever care,
I found the self I had lost waiting for me –
only to discover that she was always right there.

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The Woke Generation

  This world is a tool of manipulation for the imagination.

A delusional atmosphere-
captivated, intrigued, mesmerized intoxicated,
with false purpose and corrupted intentions –
a burning flaming yearning to seize,
The harmfully overrated,
  blind validation.
They say…
This world is full of kings and queens who will blind your eyes and steal your dreams
Our reality is a travesty.
How unfortunate that human beings have evolved incapable of poccessing the trait of empathy.
Why must miserable people
force others to bask in the bitterness of their toxic mindset, gaping hole of a soul, and buzzkill of a company?
Why are the adults who were too weak to chase their own dreams always the ones attempting to
convince children who aren’t even theirs that their visions are impractical, illogical, unfathomable or impossible?
Why are you always critiquing what you don’t understand?
Does the movement of my feet striving rapidly onwards confidently against the concrete offend you?
Does it intimidate you?
My intention is to provoke you to recognize your own power.
If you had acknowledged it prior,
You wouldn’t have to compare yourself to anyone else to begin with.
When was the last time you looked at your reflection and felt
Intensely
Sincerely
Authentically
Satisfied.
with yourself.
The veins in the crevasse of our necks amplify in pulsation,
Beat-beat-beating
Rapidly, vigorously.
amplifying unconsciously
at the mere notion of firmly gripping into the deluded fantasy of social confirmation.
Lips are shriveled to the core from an intense dehydration,
consumed with desperation –
to receive an ounce, of false acclamation.
Drops of thirst voyage to the rim of our chin
in the form of salivation
splashing against the concrete –
reaching their reserved destination.
Our souls collapse into the ocean depths –
burdened by thought formations,
as we’re held in isolation…
accompanied solely by monochrome flashbacks of humiliation of what we could’ve should’ve done
and who we could’ve should’ve been
But never dared to conquer our own reality because the world made us believe
We weren’t worthy.
We weren’t enough.
He said.
You are nothing but pretentious.
Who gave you the right to exist with confidence?
How dare you offend my ignorance and insecurity purposely
by loving yourself?
Oh my god,
what are you doing?
Following your heart?
Exposing your talent?
Refusing to remain silent?
Asserting your dominance?
Your logic is flawed for believing that you are not.
She said.
Who do you think you are?
Walking around with your head held high?
No, that’s not how you’re supposed to live.
You see,
you’re supposed to let the world’s cruelty and mind numbing negativity
slowly but slowly eat you alive.
How dare you rise above our hateful remarks and make something extraordinary of yourself?
Making an impact? Influencing?
Contributing to something potentially revolutionary by taking
complete and utter control of your mind, soul, heart, and body?
*Gasp*
How dare you have the audacity to
approach  the microphone as if what you have to say
may actually be significant.
They said.
What are you doing?
Who are you fooling?
You will never make it.
But
I know what they meant to say was –
she’s intelligent, ambitious, determined and motivated.
She’s rebellious for entirely going against what society had taught us,
all that the world previously manipulated us to believing how we should exist.
What a …
Rare species.
Foreign human being.
Can’t be unseen.
Can’t be unheard.
They go to bed thinking,
contemplating
their life away
With an,
involuntary inflation and deflation of the chest in rapid fluctuations,
meditation isn’t of the slightest intimidation
for the amplifying frustration –
even poisoned bloodstreams can sense the elation, deprivation.
Our cranium spontaneously com-busts
into the brightest of flames –
mid concentration,
with urgent inclination to correct sins prior to earth’s inevitable deterioration.
From years to decades in duration
consumed with self-evaluation,
escapes of equivocation
only to tragically result in disingenuous creation.
One last sigh of hesitation,
escapes as our pupil’s dilate …
at the sudden realization,
We were never destined to gasp for air simply to embrace invalid authentication.
Carnation coated butterflies flutter to fill the void within –
serving as a representation,
of our natural desire to caress the deluded fascination behind every infatuation.
Blame it on our forsaken souls, stubborn to refrain the temptation of eternally expecting a notification,
eagerly anticipating the arrival of yet another trivial conversation,
marking the confirmation of our existence by the sound of a minor vibration.
Setting suns and tick-tick-ticking clocks progress as we have yet to encounter the revelation.
Everybody’s talking but nobody is listening.
This is not communication.
Wake up.
We have a world of people with concealed aspiration lingering among skeletons in their closet in fear of embracing the glory of resistance.
Why? Because mediocrity is not just applauded, but given a standing ovation.
We must set a proper declaration before our bones inevitably decay from expiration.
Wake up.
This an entirely fictional land of our misconceptions, a temporary simulation,
the potentially bright side of the situation that we will hopefully, eventually wake up from this hallucination.
Please, stop sleeping.
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