Mountains of my Soul

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My soul doesn’t belong here. The moon calls on my heart to explore a sweeter land. The mountains pull me in deeper. They demand my presence. They long for the simplest embrace of my fingertips against the leaves of their trees. They crave for the wild winds to flow through me and steal my soul for them.

Where shall I thrive? Where is my home? You are my home, dear mountains. You hold my heart high on your peaks. My spirit is lost in your forests. Or is it found there?

You haunt my dreams because I am not with you. These dreams I have are far more than that. They are plans, hopes, urges. They are not forgotten. They are not in vain.

You draw me closer with each day. With each breath, I am yours. You have me. I ache to feel my toes in your earth. To soak in your waters. My skin tingles as I taste your air. I’ll breathe you in as if it’s the last time, everytime. I write my poetry for you, oh mountains of my soul.

I will find you, that I promise. I will follow, this I swear. I envision your sweet song giving birth to great adventure underneath my bones. I revel in it as it overtakes me.

And I know, this is my destiny.

Writer With a Cause

I’m utterly lost without you

My world has become a temple built of you

My soul is your throne

My hand, your instrument

We are known for falling for other humans

I have a human I adore

But you are my passion

I was created to write

A day without writing leaves me feeling incomplete

I scribble, I create, I express

Still I crave more

I’m a writer without a reader

I was made to write

I feel it in my blood, stronger everyday now

It unifies my bones

It seeps through my skin

Pours from my lips

Bleeds from my pen

It fills me to my fingertips

I ache to let it out and put it on display

I was born to write

Whatever a purpose is, this is it

Whatever a calling has been, this is mine

Whatever my pain is, this is my cure

Whatever my mood may be, this is my clarity

Tell me I’ve done for you what you have done for me

Declare my worth in your name

Adore my works for you are my muse

You are my arrow, sweet words

You are the only thing I know to be true

You are the only form I naturally possess

Dwell in me the rest of my days

For I cannot fathom another way to live

You are

And I am

So let’s be

Enchanted Nights

 

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The moon sees me

My heart, my desires, my secrets

She feels them tugging at her

My soul meets with her every night and they whisper about dreams dancing in my head

My soul is awake and never settles

She wanders with the moon in search of another

My bones mean nothing in the night yet my skin is still alive waiting to be touched

My spirit is free and rebellious

She hears all and listens to no one

My whole being, all of me

Stimulated by wishes that fill the sky

Moonstruck

Brimming with stardust

The night was made for such wildness

My soul to bare

If you wish to see me. If you care to know me. Don’t just read my words but hold them. I open my soul to you for it has been ever shut.

What once was empty now is full, only to be emptied tomorrow. And when tomorrow becomes today, I must fill my soul with happiness. For we are not born laughing. We learn from those surrounding us. Just as we learn to hurt from those same beings.

And while our instinct is to cry, we hold it within ourselves. Until the night befalls us and we allow ourselves to dwell in the darkness of our despair.

For we believe the delusion that we are only pretty when we smile. And the soul can never be beautiful when drenched in tears. That our hearts are only good for holding secrets. Secrets that shouldn’t be spoken aloud lest we expose our truest forms.

Yet I put my thoughts on display, confident I will be judged. But who am I to hide my soul from the world?

So you may peer inside me, beyond my wild smile, beyond my sunshine eyes and know that I feel very real and raw.

That every smile is a choice.

I choose my happiness.

Dirty Love

Who decides which of us deserve love? She asks the moon every night.

The only love she’s ever known was always taken from her. Men force their love on her, spilling it on her body.

Afterwards, she becomes irrelevant, not a thought wasted on her until the next craving.

So she gives herself on a pole to any man who walks in. Her heart melting on the stage before each private dance.

Because you don’t need your heart when you’re given love in the form of thirsty eyes, raised pants and crinkled paper.

This is what she sold her body and soul for.

This cannot be love. But it’s the only love she knows.

Who were you?

who were you?

to follow me to
my hidden place
to take me from 
my controlled
space? to feed me
from your broken
hands that roamed
around at every 
chance

who were you?

to force your
storms inside my
life? Put me
through your 
worldly strife
bottle up my
words so tight
pluck the wild
out from my light

who were you?

who spoke with
love laced in 
hate? Possessed
a thirst that
could not wait
to command the
tears from my 
soul, break apart 
what once was
whole

who were you?

to watch me whither
with each breath
left alone
caressing death
only to awake 
again, knowing
this is not
The End