We tether ourselves
Voluntarily or involuntarily
Then paint the chains gold
Wishing on 11:11
For riches untold
Little do we know
We are solidifying
The mold
When will we learn
To surrender & let go
When will we grow weary
Of rehearsing the same show
We must orchestrate our own assassination
Before we are cursed
To damnation

I feel something for you
A need
You induce my longing
For another touch
I want to make you come
Home
Religiously like Sunday mornings
Speak your truth to me
While nibbling on my ear
Whispering prayers of peace
While you continuously
Break me open
Dividing my pleasure and pain
Equally
The angel on my shoulder
The angel in my head
Now lays next to me
In bed

in order to awaken
i must first fall asleep
i must dream
i must experience
a few nightmares
i must die
in order to be reborn
why must i fear
when i know ascension
is near

the more
one lingers
the more
one
becomes resistant to
transformation
on the other side of the game
is where abundance
will be found
but first
in order to attain
the treasure
one seeks
one must accept
that they are the treasure
themselves

I had to remind myself
That I was enough
Replacing my unworthiness
With empowerment
I gathered the audacity
To stare at my reflection
No longer would
I let myself
Die slowly
No longer was I willing
To succumb to this prolonged death
One day
I will clasp
My hands together
And feel the touch of God
Until then....
I will continue to grow
Flourishing into the garden
I have neglected
The flowers I am watering
Will no longer be placed
On my casket
These will be used
For celebrations only
For birthdays, for my wedding
For the birth of my child
For my rebirth