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Blessing or Lesson

More often than not we let ourselves be surrounded by negativity. And things keep going wrong and we believe it’s wrong and unfair and we feed the cycle till we’re buried underneath it all.

After a while, we stop asking if that’s how it should be. And then we forget how it all started. We are forever lost in the darkness inside ourselves that was originated elsewhere but placed there. And we believe we deserve it. And we believe it’s our own damn fault. And it is. And it’s not. It is because we let it grow and take over. It’s not because we are not responsible for the environment we live in.

Continue reading Blessing or Lesson

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What I Make of Me

I wish I could reminisce like you for some sorta time and space I felt safe. But since a young age I had to learn to hold myself and know despite it all, I was still enough. But as you would have guessed, I didn’t know that and spiralled down a really dark path. No, there were no alcohol and drugs, there was something worse, the constant battle with crippling feelings of ‘not enough’.

Imagine growing up believing you should not exist at all. Imagine how would you turn out. I wish I could say I’m turned out ok, but I guess that’s not the complete truth. Even though you may see me holding it together, I’m no more found than you.

We’re lost and alone in the journey back home trying to grow along the way. Even if we do find souls that help us carry the load, in the end we’re the ones to answer to what we let go.

Maybe it would be easier had I learned differently from what my childhood branded in me. But I’ll never know and it doesn’t matter. I’ve learned to make of my self what brings me peace and let go of the misconceptions in my system of beliefs.
© Máh Lima


Photo by Shelby Deeter on Unsplash

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My Mother’s Garden

Like morning she rises,

Full of light

she rewrites the sunrise each day.

Her name is the place between home and homebound.

She is my favorite place.

Smelling of sweet breezes

fresh earth

ink and spices.

She is a glass deliciously full

Your favorite song with just the right rhythm

A new pair of dancing shoes

with just enough room to grow into.

She carries herself with a special kind of optimism.

Tending to her garden with the hope

that each year new buds will come back.

Collecting seeds with the promise of new growth.

We are of the same garden.

She planted her roots in me

Teaching me how to blossom.

Gardens have seasons yet she is always in full bloom.

In a word she is perennial.

Permanent.

Unceasing in her love.

Dance mama–

Like the flowers are singing for you.

June 26, 2017

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Indigo Shadows

Love is always a world away.
Either you sell your soul up front
or give it freely for an unattainable need–
regardless, the smiles fade into obscurity.
Your lips may drip or bend, like a
willow tree in a lonesome field,
hoping to hear wisdom in the breeze.

How do you come out unbroken when
indigo shadows carry you far away?
They blind you in your silence
coercing wispy, imposters in your day.
Thoughts invade your imagination,
tickling your quest for peace,
forcing red around your heart
sending up a frantic fleet.

How do you press on when
you cared more than ever before,
the hurt gaining strength and
constantly reminding you
of all you have lost?

Numbing distractions, avoidance,
they are the easy path.
Embrace the pain you’ve earned,
push on, the ache, can’t surely last.

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I Am Not Afraid of Time

There’s a faint voice in my chest
Telling me I have no time on which to hold
Insisting that I hurry
Whispering steadily, speedily
That I quicken my step
Hasten my ascent to ever fleeting success
Incessantly reminding me of my age
And that I am becoming too old for firsts or fresh starts
So I speak over myself
Loudly
Drowning out the tick-tocking
While respecting that I only get so many before I end
I will acknowledge but will not fear time

 

 

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Photography: Lanaya

@writing.for.the.calm

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Nothing Is Denied.

The sheer size
of life cradles us
to the point of defeat.
Are we the child that
asks endless questions
with sincere curiosity?
Or, are we the fish,
content in its universe
oblivious in a lake,
until new limits are set,
new perspective appearing
as real as the hook in its cheek?
If you really magnify
something deemed solid,
you soon discover that,
what seems to be,
are actually loose particles
held together by hope.
Regardless, everything
is connected to something,
and something reaches into infinity.
So, to suggest that this must end here
is the real absurdity.

 

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Photo: @writing.for.the.calm