turn it up.

loud enough

to hear the

lowest of notes

to feel the deepest

of feels.

even if, you feel sick

to your stomach

we dance and

we surrender.

fate calls on us.

we can survive

the soreness

we can do this

like the women before.

i will hold your weight

if you will support mine.

we can cry together

we can laugh after

in this moment we learn

healing looks a lot messier

than they will tell you.

what makes you happy?

the same things that make me sad.

universe

i built an altar

on the shelf right

at the side of my bed.

i long for; i thirst for

commitment and

communication.

i rub my hands

together to create

warmth. the fire

dances as i approach

it. my ears ring

through the cosmos.

strikes a nerve

throughout; my

muscles sore. this is

a different weight

lifting. i learn to

exchange dreams.

i learn to exchange

stillness. i notice

angels running

in the dark. to

give me a signal

or symptoms

or spasms. to learn

me an ascension.

ghosts in gurus.

or vice versa— i learn a new thing.

to be continued

i give in order

to get back. i give

praise before i

inquire about the

stuff that requires

plenty of energy.

i ask

am i in

the right place?

is this the right

place for me?

should i be

moving on,

doing greater

things?

is there someone

out there who

might give me

safer feelings

than you do?

like voodoo.

i’m too spent

on the high of life.

need a drug to bring me down.

bring me to

my senses,

it’s true..

i expect too much.

i need

the highest form.

i need the highest form.

i need the highest

form of love.

i need euphoria.

i think of

the strangest things,

maybe i’m here to love

love, don’t mean

we got it tho.

could i be missing

my blessing? or

dodging a bullet? idk.

the other day

i said goodbye

for the last time.

your demons

brang out the evil eye.

showed me a thing or two.

showed me what i knew

already.

silly me

i forgive myself

for all the times

i fell in love

with a person

who was

emotionally

unavailable

to begin with.

not today,
not tomorrow

“i love you”

means nothing to me.

not the same thing

as proof

pour out

grief is an upside down,

all around kind of thing.

you never know when it’s gone.

you don’t even know where it began.

you just keep collecting.

hoarding ache on top of ache.

saving cry on top of cry.

you tell yourself, “when i’m alone.”

you tell yourself, “later on.”

you say, “soon. i’ll release it.”

yeah.. soon—i’ll release it.

still, you crave silence and the dark.

you hold sadness close by,

don’t even realize its hold on you.

you wake up feeling heavy

everyday, can’t figure out

where all the extra weight

came from. but shit, you stay high.