I was handed fists
for as long as I can remember.
My curiosity—squashed with screams.
I didn’t learn the alphabet—
it was beaten into my ribs.

I didn’t hold hands.
But their grip was tight enough
to remind me I’d never leave.
I’ve been property since conception,
just signed over with a new lease.

My tears were never wiped—
they were smacked off my face. You must swallow all emotion or you're a disgrace.

I was to speak when spoken to and never out of turn. What happens at home stays at home and no one else should learn.

It wasn't a phase mom- daughters marry men like their dads. Though I came pre-etched in rules there was a new ruler to be had.

I was handed fists,
my whole life,
disguised as loving encouragement
to be better.

How was I to know you don't have to yell to show passion?

No more foresaking my peace while unspoken conversation choke me,
No more letting butterflies flutter more than the need to,
No more protecting you, while leaving my safety to chance,
No more replaying great days that erase bad days,

No more magnifying your moments of sweetness,
No more living with you in my dreams,
No more building happiness with my tears,
No more I love you more than I love me,

No more painting red flags with white,

No more,

No.

and i think
i'm just so tired
of being sad
but it's something
there's no sense in
hurrying

the process of
yearning, of unlearning

there is so much
emotional labor
that goes into
forgetting

all of the good
the bright, the beautiful
before the terrible
the painful, the ugly

the feeling
you used to get
when you looked
into their eyes

and it hasn't been there
in months, maybe years

but you're chasing the high
because you're afraid
the memory
is all you have left of it

remembering
what it felt like
when you weren't
pretending
everything was
alright

Am I putting myself first?

       Not enough?                      Too much?
i feel im going to burst .....

It took me long to learn to be selfish
                                and now those lessons

                know no bounds and in certain times
                 I’m found

Being petulant
  
                                                  And aggressive


         with my tongue.


I hate the feeling
         Fighting internal bleeding
                       of my very soul
        
      the one I finally told
                                               to stand up.

As she reveals herself from the pit of neglect
              she rears an ugly head

         is this something I can regret?

Let it go and let her out
                Learn to grow               but I find out

a horror in my capabilities


             Is this unlearning?
        
                                   or is this
                                                          Me­?

I am trying to unlearn,
I am unloading my bags,
Of all the karmic debt,
That I owe this form.

I have touched and felt,
Filled up a part of me,
With experiences that feel,
As light as nothingness ,
As heavy as this void.
Some lift my heart up,
Some burden me down,
Both clench my soul tight.

I am trying to be free,
Empty in my mind ,
Away from all I have ,
Accumulated matter ,
The years that have,
Tethered my spirit,
Bound into this skeletal form.

I am trying to unlearn,
Everything that makes me,
My thoughts and feelings,
Knowledge of the world.
Because when I try to look,
I get lost inside myself,
The labyrinths of my making.

The mountain Is an optical illusion
What we normally see
In front of us is a world
Of insecurities from a lifetime
Of forced perspectives
And a veil of fears obscuring
Our true faith & deepest potential
And when we attempt to rise
To live up to what's alive
within us, they say it's delusion
Ugliness planted so deep in the eye
All we see is the negativity
The beauty of our dreams is beyond
Recognition because it was buried alive

The mountain is toxic words,
So many times we've been told
How useless we are
How we were born not to make it
Even the most earnest of efforts
Cannot get us to the top
We've been repeatedly told
That the kid next door
Is better than us because he washes the dishes better and mops the floor
Now your confidence and self esteem has become so bruised because you placed it by the doorway like the mat they step on before they step on the tile floor

The mountain is society
We go to school & work hard
To get good grades but to what end?
Cause sooner or later
Society wants their servants
Who must heal the sick?
They convince you to become a doctor
Who must enforce law and order?
They convince you be a lawyer
Who must educate our children?
They force you to go teach the poor
Souls what you've been taught
So that the culture of conforming
To norms is perpetuated
And society can be at "peace".

But your soul dances to poetry
This they never told you
Your soul sings flawlessly
Like birds in flight in a cloudless sky
On a beautiful summer's day
This they never told you
Instead they keep on preaching about the endless cries on judgment day
You can paint a nation of beauty
All you need to do is just grab hold of a canvass and a brush
This they never told you
All they ever taught you was self-loathing and how to be harsh
On yourself but everyone around you.

The highest mountain, is yourself
You so often want to shift the blame
Because its easier believing
That someone else contributed
To your failure, otherwise admitting the fall would be a shame
For this I don't blame you,
Nor will I shame you
You see we've been told that the worst enemy is out there
So we go through life preparing for war, and spend the rest of our lives searching for HIM, and not find HER because she lives within us
We spoil her rotten because
You cannot conquer
That which you do not understand
And by the time we open our eyes to the real fight, we've already suffered a couple of blows and knocks from life
Grey hair and arthritic limbs cannot guarantee us victory over this fierce and lethal monster that you've become towards yourself

The mountain is nowhere, that's to say NOW-HERE
We look for greatness without
When true greatness lives within
Even the earthly mountain is not as high it appears, the real milestone to be reached, is the one within
So start today and climb this great mountain
To the pinnacle of the self
The climb is strenuous
But the view up there is priceless
All else is but an illusion
The real test is here and now.