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Becoming One

Our foreheads press together as we lie

Breath exhaled from your lungs becomes entangled with mine

I am enveloped by our intimacy

Secrets I’ve never shared sit tucked away in the shadows of my memory

Now they escape my mouth again

Into a place you’ve made safe

 

Our foreheads press together

Our breath becomes entangled

Our selves transform into one being

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Lessons From A Dragon: Story of Seth

 

   Have you ever spoke to a cow before? Like a real talk with a cow? What did he/she say? What’s He/she up to? What about a flower? Do you ever look at a Rose and think, “I wonder what your eyes have seen.” How can something so beautiful like a cow get so disrespected? Nature is who we are. “Cooperating with nature allows nature to cooperate with us.” Master Qi

   I was eighteen years old when I first realized There was more to this reality. It felt like an episode from Twilight Zone. I was on my way home from school when I saw it. It was a smoke mist. Not just any smoke mist. This mist was strange. This mist had an awareness of itself. This mist moved as if it knew it was moving. It followed me all the way to my house. It floated at the gate for about twenty seconds before flowing away with the wind. The mist followed me for about two weeks before I finally decided to approach it.

   “Are you following me?” I asked. I felt so stupid talking to a mist. Then suddenly, the mist rose up and flew right into me. It happened so fast I didn’t even realize that I had somehow ended up in my driveway. I was so freaked out all I could do was throw up. My body felt like it had been through so much. All I remember after that is waking up alone in the middle of a cave. Continue reading Lessons From A Dragon: Story of Seth

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How I let go of you and held on too.

The night's crescent moon
The night’s crescent moon

Tonight
I will get drunk on the poetry we wrote
throw my tears on the fire burning everlastingly.
That love didn’t stop your heart from turning cold for me.
Wrap my fingers around the words we spoke and
place them in the drawer that keeps your pictures too.
Watch my moon and stars collapse as I accept that my world
I must finally renew.
Write a prayer for us, for me, for you
on the same page lettered with your name in gold.
Take in a lesson or two.
Take a lesson or two. I will plant your roses outside my room
hang your artwork on the wall next to my bed.
Your kind words, I will give to someone else and
pray you get rewarded for them.
Our past, I will set on the shelf next to my favourite books.
These are the things I will hold onto
they belong to someone I once loved, once knew.

The people we were before still exist somewhere in time and space.
How unfortunate it would be to keep their chaos alive and instead
throw their love away.

– Samihah Pargas

– Instagram: ShadesOfHerInk

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Creative Juices

Creativity isn’t always beautiful. There is a desire in us as artists to share what we feel inside with the world; how can we do so when we can’t find the words ourselves? There isn’t always an easy road with which to release my emotions to words. It can be quite painful. That doesn’t make it any less meaningful.

“There are days when words and feelings pour out of me like a volcano. Aggressive and fierce, I stab through the lines on the page and rip it apart like my brain is ripping me. Then there are days when I can do nothing, My creative juices are dried up- I am breathing in coarse sand, I cough up ideas but also blood. It lines the paper all the same.”

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follow me on instagram @victimlessrhymes

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Southern Hospitality

We govern ourselves

according to a moral creed

that ensures that

any individual born and bread here

exhibit warm,

welcoming

and hospitable behavior…

It’s what we refer to as

Southern Hospitality.

Although

it has been mocked

and taken for-granted

you yearn for it

and

we don’t know

how to cope in a world without it…

No dis to

cold shoulders,

mean mugs

and

entry into rooms with empty greetings

but

we learn,

that when you walk into a room,

you greet respectfully

every being.

And we always remember

to appear gracious and courteous

in the presence

of others…

So

discontinue your

side eye,

and learn to smile

and compliment people,

as they pass by.

Let’s make southern hospitality

that much easier, to come by. ..

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How The Men I Dated Helped Destroy My Self-Image.

How The Men I Dated Helped Destroy My Self-Image.

Society has a real strong focus on self-love and how you only need yourself to be happy, and I get that, I really do. Society also acts like the relationships you have with others don’t have a toll on you. I started thinking about all the men I dated over the years and how badly they fucked me up. I decided to be so petty and call a couple out.

S: This was my first “real” boyfriend. I saw the world in him, that type of jazz. Turns out in the end he was a total piece of trash but any who. This was the man who simply couldn’t take no for an answer. This was the man who pushed me, and ripped my pants off of me after I said no a million times. This was the man who helped destroy my self-image by teaching me that the men who were supposed to love me couldn’t possibly respect me. This was the man who showed me how much I was really worth to him. How could I mean so little and how could someone have so little respect for me?
M: This one was probably the person who fucked me up the most in life. Well maybe even second. This was the man who promised me the world, promised me a future. This was the man who made me feel safe. This was also the man who left me by stating that he simply didn’t care about me anymore. This was the man who helped me destroy my self-image by proving to me that the worst thoughts I had about myself were real. Nobody hated me more than I hated myself. The thoughts inside my head kept me up at night, constantly thinking that I wasn’t enough, the love I had wasn’t desirable.
The men I dated have ruined my self-image in so many ways, whether it was calling someone fat who was a lot smaller than me, telling me how being assaulted made me broken, putting their hands on me with anything but love in mind.  The people I have met in life have really fucked me up along the way. I started to see myself the way these men treated me, I dated so many cowards that treated me like trash that I simply began to believe love wasn’t real, love was just something Hollywood made up to make a couple billion dollars.
I dated so many men who simply didn’t know how to love me, and it made me believe I wasn’t worth loving, my self-image was already fucked up from having anxiety and depression but the relationships I had with these men just put fuel to the fire.
I write a ton about self-love because I spent years not being able to love myself and with men who just couldn’t love me. I saw these broken men and tried to fix them, and that was such a mistake. I was trying to fix these boys who didn’t want to be fixed, who grew fond of making a joke out of me.
Self-love takes a very long time after dealing with abusive men and awful relationships, I have not mastered self-love yet and if you haven’t either that is okay, you’re not undesirable just because you haven’t mastered self-love yet. I promise someone is going to love the shit out of you. Keep going.

Scars heal.

 

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Top 10 Posts of 2017— No. 1

The Night-Long Lament: Contemplation & Prayer

IG: @shadesofherink

Read other work by Samihah at:

GenreUrbanArts.com

 

Warm tear drops kiss my hand on this cold night. The sky is tinged with a deep purple, a quiet purple. Even amongst the stars, there is only silence. I envy anyone who is able to find direction using them, to see a compass in darkness. I merely see what is before me. Three in a row, four on the outskirts forming a misshapen rectangle. Two more, faded, somewhere in the middle of it all. Orion’s belt. I could never forget constellations after my first time recognising them. Only, this time, I felt forgotten by them. Neglected. They are still. You feel silent to me today. This water is cold as well, in the deep end of it where I sit. Water is supposed to feel warmer on the skin after some time. I have been sitting here for a while, a long while. Waiting. I have been waiting. The moon is nowhere to be seen. Not a slither of its light shows for as far as I can see.

The moon captured slightly behind clouds
                                                                                     A slither of light

Tonight I am in darkness surviving off the somber glow of these stars alone. Tonight, I am small and the universe is too vast to consider this humbled being. This search for guidance has rendered me unnerved. Unheard. I am screaming, from my lungs through my eyes and I know I am not loud enough. I am gentle. I am excruciatingly soft. The wind will travel skies carrying my cry to the heavens and I will still be waiting for You to answer me, my Lord. I cannot hear You or see You or feel You in this moment, however long this moment may last but I believe, fiercely.

You are listening

and I will wait.

– Samihah Pargas

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Top 10 of 2017— No. 2

The Heart that Keeps me Waiting.

IG: @nicoleruth_

Read other work by Nicole Ruth at:

GenreUrbanArts.com

In today’s headlines: The daily millennial complains of increased apartments rents

whilst aligning carefully, his dysfunctional yellow bicycle

by the chipped paint thinner walls on his compound

This is in order create an illusion of aesthetic

but observe as he stalls, along his walk to the rent department

as to seem not too interested in the counter offer

because after all,

money is a social concept

He then proceeds to diverge

steering clear into the nearest Starbucks

as his “basic” radar goes off

sniffing the faint tinge of a chai latte in the air

He looks around in order to find more of his kind

but it seems as though the setting sun

has created a labyrinth of hues

which has now distracted the Vine cultured millennials

off their 6-second attention span

They proceed to whip out their iPhone 7’s

that weighs just as much as a pocket watch they could possibly be hiding

in their plaid pant pockets

in order to take an Instagram picture

of a half tilted take away cup in Valencia

Remember always, the millennial motto:

If you place your possessions by an aesthetically pleasing background

make sure to always double-check

that they are colour coordinated and bizarre

because why be rational when you can be irrational?

-Nicole Ruth

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Top 10 Post of 2017— No. 3

The Heart that Keeps me Waiting.

IG: @shadesofherink

Read other work by Samihah at:

GenreUrbanArts.com

 

There are nights I have sat through, waiting for the sun to rise – when I had every reason to be sleeping. But I know that deep down, I was waiting for you to find me. That you’d have reached home a long while back and would possibly be biding your spare time reminiscing over old photographs. I’d hope that you decided to think about me. I also know that it is unlikely that a mere thought would bring you towards me, but the love burning inside my heart makes me hold on to the miniscule chance that it could. I feel pathetic, do you know that ? I feel like I am begging for reciprocation at the door step of someone who I know might not even set foot outside to see. You once told me that I am earth and you are water, and that between such people, something beautiful could grow – or mud would be created. In whatever has grown between us, darling, I have been sinking. You have left me to drown. It’s unfair. I have been unfair to myself. You told me that we drifted apart. Don’t insult my love by ever thinking it abandoned you. While I have tried to walk away, it has stood its ground for you. All I ask now is that you treat it kindly. Soothe whatever dignity is left of it. This love is exhausted, it’s been bruised.

And still, it waits for you.

-Samihah Pargas

-IG: ShadesOfHerInk