Identity

To identify.
We describe self the way we've been taught.
Don't ask questions.
Accept.
Don't think. Smile pretty.
Silently. Just nod.
... in acceptance.
Pretending to understand what's obviously misunderstood.
About self.
Broken.
Not me. But I'd be lying if I said that didn't use to be me.
Movements made only to see those around me I craved to be pleased weren't.
Fuck it. Close eyes. In... Ex... Clear mind.
Joce, baby, focus.
On truth.
Which is hard to do when lies have been the core of the individual you were taught to identify.
Please, my love, just fly.

Drown

Eyes closed, deep breath in. 

Exhale out. 

How quickly my inner being naturally released the bullshit.

As if my soul was granted a new beginning allowing... This. This to fit. 

So perfectly. 

Effortlessly my lips curve with dancing smile lines as numb places begin to feel again. 

Big. Deep breath in. 

Anticipating this head first dive to eventually drain my breath of fresh air... Only to find that I swim just fine. 

This flow of our river is easy.

And not easy as in predictable because our lives still manueaver and turn...

But easy because of the willingness to learn the current. 

Understand it. Trust it. 

I'm swimming in you. Your waters... Mine too.

Mine has flown into yours and pours so effortlessly into this space we've created. 

Excuse me while I enjoy this drown. 

My Garden

My apple is not red.
In fact, my apple isn't an apple at all....only mistaken as one. Slowly, with each rotation of our Earth, my apple hides more of it's identity as it grows... but constantly sharing its sweetness,
What peaks my curiosity is not the actual hidden identity of this fruit but rather, how it remains so sweet? Never bitter. How its still bearing  and not been inhaled fully by the world's hunger. This majestic fruit-- constantly growing. Unidentified, but known,
Happiness petrifies me. Not enough to keep me from being....but enough to where I find difficulty to bask in it. The feeling of euphoria--naturally-- is intimidating beyond belief. The falseness of fear creating a reality for me to believe that things are too good to be true. Oh the fuckery. This river I've formed from the tears of my confessions is only given life--given the energy to flow when I begin to second guess myself. Swimming in it isn't pleasant. In truth, the current sometimes becomes too strong to just sit with my feet in it. My Garden of Eden wasn't grown with it---so as quickly as it appeared, I know it can disappear. No? Falsified fear can die. No? My tree of life grows strong... deeply rooted. & until this river no longer flows--- until it dries up, I'll sit on my life's highest branch. Chest to the sky, Sun giving me life. Basking in my sweet happiness.

Dried Rivers

We dream of moving on more than we dream of holding on. In the midst of breaking down, counting tears and learning that hurt only hurts as long as you allow it... I wrote this in 5 minutes. 

I held onto you.

Fought for what laughs around me and the smiles you gave me made me dream to be true.

To come to light.

I defended your love and bended the dreams I had while believing that you'd eventually fight for what you loved.

Hugs occassionally. Kisses not frequent enough. Touches of silk became rough.

To begin fights, questioning actions of spite and fathoming what shouldn't have been seeded.

Bleeding tears of blue rivers from thoughts of what could be or what had been us. Struck dumb fucked from reality when your actions spoke louder than any of your bitches could have.

How dare you. 

Let words of passion become have beens and what could ofs as they became poison.

Despise is too deep. So before I let the ink from this pen seep into my eyes as these blue rivers fall again to be inhaled back into my heart: good night.  

Return

Trying to understand the flow of the river is like trying to figure out the mystery of life.

How'd it begin---- how did the river bend where it did? 

Giving me just enough time to dive out, not in. Before I drowned.

Found. 

A piece of life I thought I tossed to the wind

To be lost just as deep and numb as the other pieces. 

Unfind. Unfound. Bury. Dig. Deep. Dark. Tossed. Ugly.

Unseen.

To lose again. To turn backs against walls

Lose sight of the climb-- fuck the fall. 

Bullshit

We're taught to dream. 

To reach beyond the imaginable, fathom the unthinkable...

And become. 

Young and naive we dream to believe that dreaming is even possible.

We're taught to love. 

Or at least we're suppose to be.

Be wrapped in affection --- love hard and treat nobody less than...

Or at least we're suppose to be.

These life lessons full of bullshit.

We're suppose to grow and be free,

With these shackles of life around our ankles still invisible. 

Our minds so blissful. 

Never to know fear.

At least that's what we're suppose to be. 

How do you dodge life? How do you doge the fight ? The fear? 

The death at the ankles of your roots that's determined to deafen you? Kill you? Be sure that you lose ?

We fear.

I fear. 

I fear to the point where death is accepted. 

And by death I mean- life being neglected.

 No need for dreams and hugs.

Hell. Fuck love. 

Grounded

To be free.

Arms stretched- wings open,

Me --- accepting all

Grasping MY reality.

Accepting the things I thought defined me-- all lies.

Accepting that my life definition won't appease most,

Sitting on a high horse to boast about my findings of what you define as "happiness."

I'm free-- or at least freeing.

My love. My spirit. My energy. My everything.

Can I dance? 

These wings open to the sky,

To fly would be impossible.

I'm not meant to leave the ground, for I am bound and weighed down-- too much to fly. 

But let me dance.

Blissfully entangled in my web of reality.

Stretching free, moon high, please climb with me.

Let's dance my dance on this dirt. Feel the earth. Between toes. 

Lets be free.