What I’m interested in

I am not much interested in what someone has to say if it lacks nuance regarding perception as an individual experience. I am not much interested in what someone has to argue, if they are only expunging air to prove that they are right. I am not much interested in what you have to say on the internet, in how much of your identity is quantified by taps and likes, measured in impressions, or predicted by algorithms. I am not much interested in provoked outrage, in someone’s right opinion, in unimaginative disdain.

I am not much interested in much these days, except:

How bright and beautiful the sunrise still looks everyday, even from the inside of a hospital waiting room. The strange whoosh of air from a ventilator machine, how it can transform from something first heard in a nightmare to a strange rhythmic lullaby, the cadence of a heartbeat still moving blood through a loved one’s veins. I am more interested in how to make myself more capable of loving, even to the point of exhaustion. Because there is no such thing as loving enough — loving the world, loving myself, loving the people that matter most me. I do not know if humans alone are capable of miracles, but I am not much interested in that, since life itself is a miracle. So I suppose there isn’t very much I am interested in, besides the healing power of love, the love we have within ourselves, both for ourselves, and for one another. I don’t really care these days to have space for much else.

flower envy

I envy flowers
whose only purpose is
to grow and bloom.
But is that not what I,
have been birthed here to do?
What made me this way?
Intolerably complex,
taking for granted
the simple happinesses that
life has afforded me.

Why not blossom,
into the best version of myself?
For the soil is fertile,
and the love is plentiful,
in my heart
& in the souls of those
who love me

Do not falter
at the cusp of becoming.
The trees cannot ask
the wind to stop blowing,
just as I am mistaken
to try and hinder the flow of time.
The same force that crashes waves,
upon the shore,
beats the blood that flows in my veins,
transforms the air I breath
into oxygen
— just so I may wake up to see another day.

Do not forsake the one body I’ve been gifted,
to grow and bloom in,
Do not forsake the one life,
I have been given to love,
there is no past or future,
Only this moment that I am breathing in,
With so much life left to live,
it would be a shame to forget that now.

erosion

It is time you stop cutting yourself down,
Carving off your wilder edges just so you can fit into spaces,
That misshape the contours of your figure,
Embrace all the parts of yourself,
You are still learning how to love,
You are both the entirety of the ocean,
And the quiet wave lapping upon the shore,
Both the pebble made smooth over a millennia,
And the vast swells carving statues of their likeness,
Along the rock faces of cliffs
For far longer
Than you can even begin to remember.

the runaway

Swell me up like a wave,
Stir me up like a storm,
Leave me as something that I wasn’t before.
I have grown into a woman,
With the heart of a child,
In love with the world,
Fierce, fragile and wild.
I hear my voice echo out,
Screaming in the abyss,
Still searching for answers,
I’m not sure even exist,
Juvenile ponderings of a restless young soul,
Constantly looking for new places to go,
I don’t have any place that I really call home,
Besides the fire in my blood,
And the marrow of my bones,
So I will write the same words til they lose all their meaning,
Speak them out loud until I’m hard of hearing,
Drink all my coffee, breath out smoke from my lungs,
Try to sing songs, I haven’t already sung,
Take off for the horizon, like a bullet from a gun,
& tell myself that I’ll leave when it stops being fun.

brown girl magic

I am made out of magic,
& stories quite tragic,
Composed by the cosmos,
The stars and the static
A brown skinned girl
With an American tongue
Still somehow confused by what it means to be young
I’m a girl whose grown into
The child that I was
The same dreams and passions
Still deep in my blood
Where have I been,
& where am I going?
The trick is to keep moving
Without ever knowing,
I have cried at the beauty of being whole on my own,
Discovered what strength is by being alone,
Built my own home from the boughs of my bones,
While still learning to carry the weight of my soul.

above the coast

I woke up on a plane above the California coast,
a memory of who I was waiting for me like a ghost,
I have shed my skin like spring,
learned not to count this as a loss,
discovered moving forward
is always worth the cost.

I have learned how to unearth secrets,
that are stored within my soul,
learned that living in my solitude,
could make me feel more whole.

Learned how to fall in love with strangers,
for brief moments in my life,
the serendipity we shared
will stay suspended now in time.
I have crossed many oceans,
in search of myself,
climbed through the mountains,
to know truth in what I felt.

What has it meant for me,
to go out in search of meaning?
Savoring the seconds
in every new beginning?

Because life is just a cycle,
of lessons we repeat,
from when we’re born,
in different forms,
until the karma is complete.

So pay attention to the details,
because it’s not always the same,
synchronicities that guide you back the way you came.

The universe will take you,
exactly where you need to go,
combined with fate, which we create,
is all we need to know.
So here I am now,
having reached this journey’s end,
a resurrected soul ready to live her life again.