I used to be beautiful, now what am I?
JAN 21, 2025
I think of you, in my dreams, daydreaming, lucid and starving.
Touch I long for, and so
I give what I can
unto myself, these strong bones, my
mighty health. You
are my mighty warrior, and you inspire me, you
sing to me, you live for me, and so
I do, for you.
I broke a fever last night.
I still feel sick, but I am healing and//
I could say I did it to myself. And I take the responsibility of my own actions, although I see through the eyes of others. These devils look at me with envy, with their pride, looking to keep me in their lines of fire. But God willing, I survive. Are you surprised?
Do all of my tattoos make me look stupid or cruel? Do they mean I’m impure, does it mean I’m tortured? What does it say about me? It’s not//
I was born with blonde hair, and I dye it black now. Does this mean I hate myself? Does this say
I deny my truth of being? I tried to shave it all off, I tried to get rid of it, but it’s not that easy. Some things take time to grow out of.
I still cry, a lot. I cry because things are beautiful, I cry when I feel deeply.
And I used to think that it was a bad thing, but it’s actually beautiful
to shed tears for the things you love
and it’s beautiful to shed tears in agony, this release is bliss.
I like being naked.
Because it feels primal and true.
Because I know God sees me and smiles and laughs with me and cries with me.
Through all the pain and disdain, somehow I found my way back to this place
of loving and trusting and listening
in my heart that I know is real and true and inexplicably beautiful.
I know my pain was self-inflicted,
but what brought me to desire this pain was never out of hatred or agony,
although I did feel these things.
What brought me there was love,
and the misuse of the love I gave.
The way lovers hurt each other.
I am a divine intervention.
Intention.
Lose yourself in your own invention.
Devouring pomegranate seeds as I think deeply, I wish
to devour your skin and blend our magic
fruit seeds in my belly
the mirror of this divinity.
Daydreaming of your taste
under my lips
apples and strawberries.
Let these seeds spring unto new trees
as I meet old friends, old faces
and lay their worries to rest, alongside my own.
The funeral of my suffering.
I cut off the dead from my hair
and wipe the corners of my red-stained lips
I wipe under my eyes
all that I’ve cut
all that I’ve stripped.
Naked feelings
naked tears.
So surprised at my naked body standing here
divinely imperfect beings.
I relish in this feeling that washes over my body
this feeling of righteousness that consumes me whole.
The acceptance of God underneath my layers
the feeling of righteousness between my legs
the desire to consume such naked seeds.
To give unto thee, all that I long to be.
