Super Blood Wolf Moon

The fronds rustling in the chilled air and a wolf’s moon gently watches as I inhale and exhale smoke from within my soul and out towards the night sky. She looks down with her red face soon to be eclipsed and a secret nod occurs between us. She is a protector—moon goddess—and I am a loyal servant. In my sensuality I extol rituals in her name as invisible, glittering strings grow from within me and dissipate into energy like the smoke exiting my lungs. Each breath is an intention, each inhale is a collected pool of energy brought further in to my body. The moon wears a red veil and I am naked, barren without need for shrouds. No clouds exist between us now and soon we will become one.

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Half-Baked Innocence

Today I smiled at the thought of deserts consuming entire cities.

It’s not up to you to fix what you did not break. It’s not up to you to chase what does not want to be followed nor to lose your peace for those with no peace in their hearts.

What you’re meant to do is to live well and freely without shackles imposed on you by others. You are meant to cut the threads connecting their words to your head so that you may think truly without their hidden agendas influencing your actions.

You don’t deserve a half-baked innocence.

Enduring

From where enters your strength, your will to live? It reminded of how battered and bruised I have been. A memory of black clouds coming down onto me haunts my head and I had hoped that I had healed that trauma, but they asked me: where does that strength come from? There were no good answers to that question. Perhaps it was this ancestral DNA or my mother’s mitochondrial DNA that let me live though the struggle. How ungrateful I must seem, to have that survivor’s will and to hate the act of having to survive. She must look at me with disdain or maybe with pity at knowing that her scars are inscribed into my genetic makeup too.

Why have you stayed? I am asked this question, not in so many words. Sadly, no responses escape because I hold the gates tightly shut for fear of being seen as the fool. Who could have thought that this would be the woman striving to bear the fruits of my labor—so hindered by a simple soul?

Sunken Benches

I sit next to the ocean that is reclaiming the land and the rain starts to sweep in between the mangroves and dead fish. Soaked pages take in the tears of the sky as if they’ve been parched for quite some time. The ocean and sky have reclaimed their original place on land and floating aimlessly– a red jacket. The dyed red leather is engorged with salt-water while crabs laugh at that foolish girl in tatters.

You Knew It Was A Snake When You Picked It Up.

I too was naïve in the way that girls are, feeding into romance novels thinking that things called love could be unconditional. There are always conditions and those that say otherwise are lying. It is based on your genetics, your fundamental beliefs, or your culture. If “love” were truly unconditional then you wouldn’t have endings to beginnings. Terminating great love is never easy, yet compromises cannot be reached always. Some things will “break the camel’s back” as some say, yet I believe that orgullo is behind that saying and many more. It was naïve of me to think that the things I loved someone else would love the same. My little moon, staring out the window. I don’t know if animals are capable of unconditional love, but I know that I will not give reason to doubt. Perhaps my error is in my honesty, it is so blatant that if you don’t peel back the layers you’ll never get to understanding.

 

Bitterness is in my garden for blood and sweat were not enough to make roses grow out of this dirt. I cut myself wide open and let my waters flow through the rivers of within me, yet dams blocked seeds from saturating and the sun just beat down too damn hard. The leaves in the trees rustled lies, lies, lies and I heard from miles away without ever having to have been in the room. My energy took me to the ocean once again, where I could dip my toes into the salt so that I could build up my reservoir of tears for later on when Cubans cross the ocean in bathtubs in the downpour of the deep dark sky. To me came Mother Mary and she spoke to me to let it be, but my ship has never capsized without a fight and I fought, first myself and then you.

 

Like Warsan Shire, I dimmed my light and crawled into myself so that I would take up less space, but my mouth couldn’t stay shut and what little space I tried to not occupy, my body rebelled and grew big and full. I hoped that I was enough when I was picked up like the serpent that I am, sharp, poisonous, and headstrong. I was never welcoming to meek mice, for I needed to feed and lick my fangs every time someone uttered hate in my direction. My paralyzing toxins are those that you cannot see and now I am angry because I protected the pack during my time as a wolf, but the vipers still snuck into my snake nest as I transformed.

 

Have you lost track of time? In moments I will only be a figment of your imagination and you will ask, was she real? The dust particles in the air will hint that I was, as the volcano within my soul erupts one last time to clear the path. I will forget one day: you, me, him, her. See how I put myself second there? That will be the only time.

To Find and to Lose in Cycles

            I’m in a new place that I have never seen before where there are caverns galore. So many entryways, but many obstructed exits are a part of this journey that I am taking. Flooded caverns, flooded caves and flooded grooves are keeping me sane. They keep me swimming and I try to find my way, but who knows about ways anyway?

            So I heard a few echoes only to find that they emanated from my lungs and as I followed them somewhere I went even deeper into the water. There was darkness and in it I found the light, which explained to me with clarity all that I took for reality. There were actually no truths, because the water kept moving and it was all subjective, but there were experiences and there were the limits like those that you would find from your derivatives to reach some sort of conclusions.

            I swam until my limbs were too exhausted to swim anymore. I loved it all, things that I had never seen before. I got lost and I was found by me in the caves of darkness and depths. The ripples came from my movement, my progression towards a regression to realize who I truly was at first. After I obtained a good sense of that, I pondered in the clear, blue and warm water how I got there only to find that I soon went somewhere else.