3 thoughts into three poems
on self trust, separation, soul ties, and giving
(1min read.)
trusting self & separation
can you remember when you last stopped trusting yourself?
was it when the sounds of your internal voice began to get louder, adapting to comparison instead of captivation?
was it when instead of reflections, the mirrors became distortions, making it easier to pick yourself apart, to spot the imperfections?
was it when instead of feeling included, you were left out of the game, or that circle of kids or girls you once laughed, played, or ate with?
well damn, when did you become an outsider, the other all of a sudden?
instead of being met with harmony, peace, kindness, or compassion,
meanness, cruelty, and disdain joined the party
through time and space, this is the beginning of loneliness among seas of people
only the ones who learned to observe you real good catch on; they see it in your eyes
this felt sense of separation, i guess that’s when not trusting yourself starts
little me—perplexed, confused, and sad. too aware i was. i am. so, i heal for her.
i realized later than sooner how much of a gift it was to be different, attuned ~
well, it’s human nature, they say
soul family
honestly, if it wasn’t for that one to-be friend that cut you in the lunch line in 7th grade and gave you permission to start a conversation, where would you really be?
the boy that decided to walk you home so you wouldn’t be alone
the girl who sat next to you in class
the kid that swapped lunches with you or gave you lunch because you couldn’t afford it
i ask myself all the time. my late best friend did the first for me in the 7th grade. it’s only after she fell sick and passed that i realized her act to do so was on purpose
it was you who saved me, flower child
soul ties, the gift that keeps on giving
the easy. the natural. the joyous. the exalting.
this is what authentic, soul friendships feel like
that version of me who loved
there is such a thing as being too giving
it stems from not enough-ness, not yet worthy
it’s easy to blame yourself
it’s easy to think it was you
but it never was, and it never is
i opened and trusted too easily, and it burnt me to a crisp
there is such a thing as being too open, too giving and forgiving—a heart that knows compassion
curious, magical, willing to see the love in everything and everyone
it’s who we are, we were made for this, weren’t we? we were made for love
that version of me who loved
somehow it’s the openness and innocence of her that i miss the most
catalysis is the version of me not putting myself through self-betrayal on repeat,
trusting too openly, too fondly, too easily
but still, i miss her—that version of me who loved
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