Let thy will be done

Sometimes I forget you see

that I’m not a bastard anymore

I’m still a careless child

but I don’t have to live in disconnect

trusting no one for so long as taught me to believe

that I had to survive alone in isolation

I had to think faster, work smarter

I tend to forgot that I don’t need to trade secrets to survive

neither do I need to keep secrets to feel a spur

it slips my mind. it really does.

There are layers to this journey called life

and likewise are there stages of the mind

but the biggest bullocks is of isolation

that’s when the voices become audible

sob a little louder why don’t you

no one can save you

it’s a dark droughty forest

one slip and you can sprain your ankle

and smash your head

scream louder but you’re still alone

doch!

what a noodle brain I have been

to forget I’m not alone

I had a father, and will have one for eternity

sometimes he breaths stillness in me

most times he prefers I move recklessly,

stumble on a table in a near psychotic episode

and he hears me loud and clear

he sees me when I visit our secret place

I forget sometimes that this place even exists

It needs a little spring cleaning, some home decor

but he’s there waiting

he sees my pain and replies, “it’s a process”

he gives me space in the darkness so I can ponder

that understand that there’s nothing truly there for me

I may scoff and curse, but in the end I utter the same words,

Father, let thy will be done.

Art has to be

Humanity believes

that art has to be beautiful

like a Hummingbird basking under the sun

and art has to be unique

like meteorites dissecting the sky in brillant shades

art has to be pure

like amethyst re-crystallised in an open furnace

art has to be in Galleries

like the cherubic oil on canvas in the louvre

art has to be worth millions of pounds

like a wedding ring made from dinosaur’s fossil

and art has be created by genius

like Yiruma on his Compose of “River flow in you”

I believe

that the source of art is most impure .

It is dirty

It is unbecoming

and it could be worth nothing

but most of all, I believe

true art is a journey to enlightenment

It summarisizes a story that is told

through the eyes of one person,

it’s creator.

Smile a little because, you’re art.

Surreal Fantasies

Look at me

strip me with your paint brush

take note of every scaffold, every root and edge

every missing piece that evaporates and dries

I’m a waste product but someone has to do it

someone has to paint me

reveal my deepest shame

separate me from the shadow I hide behind my smile

take off the mask i’ve been wearing for so long

release my woes into the fiery furnace of purity

adjust my beliefs so they vibrate into stillness

like pendulums that repel each other

create an escape tunnel for my tameless Geist

and breath into the spaces between my illusions

show me a softness that anchors my heart to this moment

this moment coated in the abyss of fantasies

It won’t be easy labor

but I trust you to make me bloom in the darkness

to pick off the thorns, one by one so my rainbow shines

counteract my anxiety with grounded voice

so I can awake again many moons later

looming in a limbo

where surreal fantasies go to be reborn

Alone in the rain

Think of me

at times when you’re alone in the rain

whispering through splashes on the curb

pleading you to come back home

I’m not used to accepting vulnerability

Humility had no space in me

hard to believe you set me free

I can see you only with bewitched eyes

Unrepentant to my destructive ways

with angels echoing anecdotes of terror

unspoken words etched under your rib

the source of beauty is anything but pure

My voice is weak and trembly

it dissolves with each rain drop

the thunder, transient and poetic

and it was raining under your umbrella

I waited on you when the rain ceased

your curly hair and face were drenched

eternal sunshine came with your crooked smile

each wish i made, returned

Pisces fever

Talk in my face with a smile, with a smirk

I would never control you like that

cry me a river so I can drown you in it

It’s so good, it’s so bad. I can’t decide

all the wavelengths that’s crosses my head

I am tired. I’m tired of mistakes I keep choosing to fix

Chose your words very careful around me

come in my space but leave that energy outside

I DGAF if you think you know everything

Cross me once, I say oh no shame on you

cross me twice, you’ve got voodoo in your name

hell hath no fury like a woman scorned

I say nothing and you peg it for weakness

I’m ghosting right now , you can join me or leave

You can’t sense my vision so let me do it all by myself

I don’t like you today, maybe try me tomorrow

depends on which of me you met today

I don’t mean to hurt you but I will if you let me

I’m artsy. I’m empathetic. I’m pisces

I can be just whatever I want

please hold back your opinions and doubt

I’ll never say I told you so to your face

I’ll never look to your eyes and say you were wrong

but if you’ll play games, I’ve got a license to play

Thanks for the advise but I’ll take it from there

drop all manipulative tricks at the door

grew up around it so I can smell it from miles and miles

Don’t ever, don’t ever try to control me

Don’t ever, don’t ever try to lie

I’ll forgive you but know you are dead to me forever

I don’t mind being hated for me

but I hate being being misunderstood so much

love me or hate me but please don’t misunderstand

I love you today but I can’t guarantee tomorrow

take me as I am or just leave me alone

I know i’ll be fine with or without out you. it’s all the same

No, It’s probably best if you leave

you’ll probably offend me if you stay

blunts make better friends than people anyways

I say nothing but I can feel every little thing

been crying all day but I don’t know what’s wrong

this whole solar system just loves to play on my nerves

Sit back and observe everything around me

many will come my way but there’s room for just one

what can you do for me that i can’t myself

Don’t ever try to make me face reality

i’ll get things done in my pace, in my time

i’m not put together, Neptune knows I’ll never claim to be

I started writing this and i couldn’t stop

it’s got me feeling some airy type of way

Can’t put it to words but pisces fever is a vibe.

Family bonds

I don’t know when I stopped

being my father’s daughter

perhaps I was tired of grappling at expectations

of using my blood to paint someone’s incompetent ego

I don’t know when I stopped

being my mother’s friend

perhaps I was tired of accommodating excuses

of staring at an epitome of disappointments

I remember when I stopped

being my brother’s sister

We ran and played till a fuse went off

I worry that spark may never connect

I don’t know when my prudent sister transformed

she says it was during Grandma’s death

Her light went dim as if she were dead too

she could only come out a different person

all I know

For as long as I have lived

Family has been the strangest bond

It runs deep only to evaporate like butane

you

I find it a bit comish

that I had to leave you to miss you

when we were together

I cursed you with every morsel of my being

you caused me many tears

not physically ofcourse, it was the feelings you stirred up

the feelings that made me want to lock myself in a shark cage

at the center of the earth and be there alone

lost. forgotten. dead

waiting for my fossils to be dug up by anthropologists eons later

it’s funny how much I love you now

how much I yearn for you

I never experienced this side of you

nor this side of me

it’s like scales have fallen from my eyes

and i’m beginning to peel a new layer of you

different from what I’ve been used to before

and I hope you feel the same way too

that you can feel a part of me

you can see me, as a whole

not a half-blood you loved to loath

me, for not only who I am

but for who I am becoming

oh my I hope you do

because I want us to remember each other

not for the past

but for every waking moment

I’m imperfect. say you can appreciate my mess

and I’d be lucky enough to see yours unfurl too

Love, Your former muse.

Free in the emptiness

Can we be empty for a day

can we meet back in the embers

that stirred our soul like wild forest fire

folding us into an empty space

far from the reach of salvation

Do you remember your freedom

can you forget your slavery

two words juxtapose themselves at extreme poles

Fear at the equivocal end to freedom.

freedom doesn’t begin without fear

Where did your soul wander

in the midst of so much darkness

why did the music stop

just when the encore was getting louder

when will the cycle of self-sabotage dwindle

For the free woman

for the feeling of effervescence

for the cynical soul

that don’t want anything in particular

and are not quite sure of what they’re looking at

until they see it set free in the emptiness

Soul blisters

There are sores and blisters on my skin

I know not from wence they came

after the morning light sprawled through my sill

I felt the hands of time ticking backwards

Reminisce on past duende

I was like fluid running between iron framework

some would swear I was too arrogant

I took the form of a space-occupying lesion

The blisters lasted a few years

before they coalesced together like a wave

reminding me the past never hides away

this tumor can only be carved with laser

But this isn’t about the blisters

it’s not even about arrogance

though they all influence my demeanour

it is about the keel i’ve rebuilt since then

I’ve dug out fossils of my being

and wiped off secretion from my chin

i keep pointing into the shards like there’s someone there

to help me climb out of this jar

I’m fairly stronger than a twig

My process is a layer of chaotic wind

It’s time to disintegrate my ship

and healed confidence where shame blisters once were

The process

I tried many times to explain how it works

but really there is no formular to solve this

the mess is alway supposed to be ugly

Something you should hide from everyone that knows you

if they see it, you feel guilty. if they don’t, you feel guilty

you don’t tell anybody and you nurture fear

now there is hole, borrowed so deep you can’t see the end

this all started with your perception of the mess

look at the mess you’ve made

you’ve harvested a basket of regret

i can’t speak right, and i cant laugh right

but the mess could be beautiful too

i don’t need these guilt

i don’t need to worry about others beliefs

it’s the process of unravelling your mess that straps you tighter inside

like a fly struggling in a Venus fly trap

but you could see it as a person

let it know you’re still afraid but this phase will pass

as long as we live, there will always be new messes to process

better to work with it than to push against

there’s never been a formula for it

I am a mess, but i’m beautiful still.