In Layman's terms

  Isadora what have you done to me? Why have you done it to me? Was I not fine before you walked in and left my mind in a state of disarray You are a cruel trick, Isa A karmic retribution Why would the gods make me exist adjacent to an ideal version of me? A version leaps and bounds ahead of me Why place a piece of coal next to a diamond If not to punish the coal? Surely your cells contain remnants of the dna of the fallen angels That would explain why you're so aggressively stunning Your beauty breaks done all resistance and says  ' I'm here, acknowledge me. Bow before me ' Fisher of men Your nets are bursting You blush when they fawn over you As if it's all new to you Yet you eat their adoration for breakfast, you subsist on it. You're Beyonce and the rest of us are your back up dancers Even as we contort our bodies this way and that We are not perceived  It is the undulations of your body that they want to see And it is quite the specimen, your body The sculp

  Like the multitudes of people who do not receive gifts often, I used to believe that I didn’t care about them. That it was not a ‘big deal’ for me. That was until I received a book from my then boyfriend. It was unexpected and perfect. Proof that I lingered in his mind in a significant way. I loved it. To paraphrase Oliver Twist, ‘I would indeed love some more’ of this gift receiving. The joy I felt surprised me. It reinforced a thing that was proving itself to be true again and again in my life. That you can never truly understand something until it happens to you. That true appreciation comes from experience. I started to understand why the girls would go crazy over what seemed like trifles from lovers on Instagram stories. About a year after that, an estranged acquaintance also sent me a book with the sweetest message. I was in a bad way (she didn’t know this) and some force compelled her to show me love at that time. That gesture was the gust of oxygen I needed to emerge from the

 I'm extremely perssimistic about the human condition nowadays. Everything centered on connection and relationship seems more and more futile everyday. Our flaws weigh heavily upon us as individuals and in union with another these flaws can be quite the atomic bomb. I'm no longer under the illusion that I'm a good person. In fact, we are all monsters. Active or dormant or both. A quote from True Detective comes to mind. 'I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in human evolution. We became too self aware; nature created an aspect of nature separate from itself. We are creatures that should not exist by natural law. We are things that labor under the illusion of having a self, a secretion of sensory experience and feeling, programmed with total assurance that we are each somebody, when in fact everybody’s nobody. I think the honorable thing for our species to do is deny our programming, stop reproducing, walk hand in hand into extinction, one last midnight, broth

I dread the night The darkness inspires despondency  The silence amplifies my pain My knees kiss the ground As I find myself once again deep in supplication The tears flow uninhibited The bill has come due for my numerous mistakes Regret has become my daily portion A bitter pill to swallow in every waking moment I accept my folly  I didn't know any better Lord, please show me the way to atone Let your mercy find me again Let my skin feel the sun's rays once more

 I wish you had not died. Because the death of a youth is a loss, all that potential going down the drain. Also, I had a bone to pick with you and your untimely death denied me the opportunity to do so. It's not that big a deal really. It's just that the issue keeps gnawing at me. I was much younger back then. I wasn't equipped enough mentally to address the situation.   I remember my mother sitting me down and solemnly letting me know of your passing. At that moment I felt nothing. I usually feel nothing in some highly emotional situations. The feeling usually hits after a while. In this case it's been about a decade but I still feel nothing.  It could be because I barely knew you. We were first cousins but we were never really close. Which is why your little outburst surprised me. I simply tried to extend a friendly hand. You did not have to bite my head off like that, in front of people. Could it be that I was out of line? I've evaluated that encounter thousands

 I have a tendency to limit myself. There are things that I presume are beyond me. Or, believe it or not, sometimes I don't want to draw too much attention to myself, almost as if I'm a star that doesn't want to shine bright. It's a silly flaw. Because my potential goes untapped because of fear. Fear of having eyes on me, judgement. Fear of failure also to a certain extent. Yet time moves, regrets mount. The visionaries either broke free from these restraints or had no awareness of them. Perhaps they had an understanding of a concept that is too slippery for us the faceless multitudes to grasp. You only live once. And this life is like a mist. It's there for a brief period and then it's gone. Knowing this, understanding this, one then has to decide. To be a wallflower or to rage against the dying of the light. That is the question.