⏏︎

we are never sure about death. 
though death reveals us to our most self 
we are never sure
could I ever make a friend out of death? 
does death deserve to make a friend out of me? 
my kind and still beating heart
could I hand it to her willingly?
could I bind myself to change before it binds itself to me?
could I ever get ahead of death?
meet her at the gate
welcome her into my home

don’t we all imagine lovers made out of deaths
as if we could gather the lost pieces and sew them back into a wholeness
or resile deaths stern ways from our practices
as if we could ever find our heart placed back together
death at each considerate/delicate seam 
could we ever imagine
giving ourselves dutifully over?
could I ever guide my hand to match hers?

I know my death will come, and so with each day I carve out a small place for her
I grow flowers to harvest for my homecoming
I remember myself to be walking towards her company
I am humbled by this knowing

may each day be a dedication to my death, a letter home. 
may every day be a celebration of this life, a regular survival. 

altared

Find my gods all together. 
Find me satisfied with the self. 
Satisfied with my being and those who come along with her. 
May we all find ourselves stuck together with pride.
Find the recognition of self as strong 
Find the strength, find the change.
Find everything in better shape than when you left. 
And all the things changing
And all the things in your favor.
And all the things with god.
Find it and find it again.
Thank them for the gifts. 
They come in earnest.

Look at your own richness
Admire your own clarity. 
Allow your desires to align with your faith. 
Your faith aligned with your practices. 
Your practices with your own unique purpose. 
Allow for spirit to come in.

currently unshelving: the lifelong fear of my own thigh meat

burn my old repressions to the ground

let my skin darken by the light of their flames

i find my jealousy doesnt actually suit me

cannot squeeze up over these hips

no more sugar in the hood just sweetness

(sing to a tune of your choosing)

sugar kills my daddy and its ugly
candy in his sock drawer, ugly
cookies in the floorboards, ugly
ice cream in his sleep 
and monsters in the morning

I pray every day, white sugar
please stop making my jaw weak
I know the choice is on me
and these holes in my head are ugly
teeth rotting my appetite, ugly
reminders that she comes to kill me

but shes so sweet
shes made a loyal fool out of me
Shes just so sweet
I dont know how she could do this to me

(repeat until death)

a reason to be alone:

Sweet lover. Bring with you a sense maker for my sadness
A recollection of my importance
Soothe me for I have been saving all my unsoothables
To be tended by a soft an innocent hand
Is that you sweet? My shelter?

🁗


because i am deep in my undoing, 
unraveling my disdain for the self
i am awfully wet right now 
i am soaked through my clothes
i am trudging through

because i am busy reversing all of my unloving
yes, rewinding my embarrassment
it is hard to make a full sentence
it is hard to focus on anything, be it still or moving

because i am knee deep in my own heart

i just cant come outside right now

not yet. 


where is the trouble in your heart

is it salacious?

is it black, or almost purple

does it spread

will joy kill it?

does your laughter make it grow tired 

is it unreachable?