HALF-PRICED WISDOM

A different pair of lips is a completely different story. Different talk. Another truth. Oh, isn't it funny how hard we try to convince? Another set of blown kisses and broken promises. How many times do we have to get disappointed until we find the lips to press our forehead onto, close eyes to feel.

All the nevers you exclaimed, your lips suffered. We Bite them, we punish them. And then lick them off all the uncommitted sins. All the other lips they kissed when they didn't believe in the spark of it? All the unnecessary things they let slip the tongue when they should have just stay shut. Why do lips have the need to fill in the silences, when we only want to see if we can sit in silence together. The lips are king of bullshit and little white lies, but how they hate the innocent eyes. With which you can smile and not spread the lips, through which you can see how scared we all are and see how the heart is breaking. Even with the lips sealed, eyes scream the loudest.

Eyes I love, but I fear you sugar coated tongue and the way you use your words. The unbinding structure of sentences that have the ability to make my eyes look in the opposite direction of what is it you are hiding.

The strongest weapon I have, you have, are these set of lips that are too wise. They know too much, they understand too little, they are too quick for a sensible judgment, they are too egocentric to be aware of other's feelings. They think they know what they are on about. They want to be agreed with, but what if we are both wrong?

Who are we to trust more? Other's lips or our ears? They'd believe everything they hear. There is a channel twisting in the close of our heads, but there's no filter. We are just expected to know, depend on the intuition, on the judgement of ones character that we strongly believe we have enough life experience and saw too many lips do they're thing, not to fall for it yet again.

Just look at the dog. Look at his eyes, full of love and awaiting of nice words. Look at his ears, with which he cannot hide from and look at those lips that hide those teeth that can rip you.

We've got teeth too!

ONLY IF FOR A NIGHT

I know I should stand and fight. I know its expected of me to concentrate and be practical. Witty and gracious when needed. Strong and delicate at the same time.


But when the night comes...I don't want to stand, I don't want to have to fight. I want to lie down next to you and let my guard down. Let the sky be so black against my white night-dress. Let go off the day and of all that is about and what it was supposed to be. I want to be naked, egoless and comfortable. Only if for a night, everything could be gameless and easy and for you to think me beautiful when most vulnerable. For you to want to lie next to me and just be. Like that. 


Just for a night which has nothing to do with the way I walk or talk, or ocean, or the mug I left on the coffee table to be knocked down by the wind because I refuse to close the door. Or the way I see you. Instead, it has everything to do with re-birth, an amazing tomorrow and a chance, once more, to be better. 


At night I analyse, re-live the day that just expired by the sun hiding underneath the horizon, I think about all the things I have to do by the raising of the same sun. Watching my life unfold in front of my eyes, demanding to know if I am happy with it, while I just want to fold, press my knees against my chest. Not go into the depth of my childhood and when it all began and why. Dark in my room is shoulda, coulda, woulda have done/do color. How I should stop smoking, of all the countries I could travel to,all the loves I should have made, something about running to, about rise and fall, how are stars and the bones I am made of the same color, all the dances upon the tables, all the things I wanted to say but it was too late, all the things I have had said when should have forced a patient smile and nod my head. 


At night I want to give myself to gravity's way and feel weightless, feel the tidal pull. Spoon me, listen to the night-its one of the sounds I like best. It's almost similar to the sound of a seashell's twist against my ear, when really is the whooshing of my blood. Wait for the dream to come, sooner if not before. Only if for the night could be all clear as day. 


Only if for a night I could be without my cloths and colors I choose for that day, without my attitude, without the spectrum, feathers and all that is chocking me when awake. Without answering, explaining and excusing, without moving out of the way or politely asking for more space. My bed, my space, my place. 


Each morning the only solution is to stand up and fight. Choose happiness if I had my way, if I was my own God.


But only if for a night I could just be. Just like that. 

DOUBLE EDGED SWORD

I am a whole lot of people, trying to be one person.

Sometimes I am only yours melting all my desires into one, and that is to get to know you. Sometimes I am not leaving but distancing myself. Sometimes I am a loner and I like it then the best. Sometimes I am a dreamer. Sometimes a realist. Sometimes a pessimist, but most of the time an optimist. Sometimes I feel beautiful, sometimes I feel rejected by the whole world. Sometimes I am a happy creature, but sometimes I cry. Sometimes I am a shadow talker, sometimes I scream and yell. Sometimes I am high, sometimes gravity has its way with me. Sometimes I breath life in, sometimes I feel like exploding. Sometimes I am my own superhero-girl, sometimes I am my worst enemy. Sometimes I am a lover, sometimes a bitch. Sometimes I am a writer, sometimes I am just tired. Sometimes I work hard, sometimes I sleep. Sometimes I love, and sometimes I need to be loved. Sometimes I don't shut up and rarely listen. Sometimes I am hiding, if you find me, come and get me, by waiting we are growing further apart. Sometimes I am good in maths, sometimes I suffocate in the aftermath of what I have done. Sometimes I am a mystery gone wild, sometimes a pending engagement. Sometimes I am the answer, sometimes a problem, still I do it all. Sometimes I am good. Sometimes I am wrong. Sometimes I say 'there is so much more', sometimes 'fuck off'. Sometimes I am in the moment, sometimes I want to be somewhere else. Sometimes I brighten the day, sometimes I am fading fast. Sometimes I am OK with drawning, the other days I swim for my life. Sometimes I believe I write for you, sometimes I don't know why I write. Sometimes I stuff my eyes with wonder, the other times I am seeing all the wrong things, searching for the flaws. Sometimes I am a carer, sometimes I am a killer and a thief of joy. Sometimes I am the host, sometimes a guest. Sometimes I am a political animal and sometimes a smitten kitten, sometimes I am not your baby. Sometimes just an animal. Sometimes I am a waitress, sometimes a customer. Sometimes I am my own.

Sometimes, most of the time, I just don't know.

Sometimes I don't care.

STANDING IN MY OWN TRUTH

 My makers gave me a difficult name. A name that insists on the full use of the tongue. A name that allows me not to trust the ones that cannot pronounce it. While all of the time I thought it was my folly. Its just the word, so I forgave, excused myself shyly, explained countless time, tried to make them understand, worried about first impressions, whether they liked me. It's just a word and with words there is always a loss. How are we expected to tell the truth with only 26 letters? Is this why I give my body and throw my lips against yours, so I won't need to apologize for who I came to be named?

I am a barer of the name that demands you to tell me nothing but the truth.

And to tell you a little secret...I am going to name our daughter a difficult name too.

WHAT BECOMES HER?

Poster says 'WORK HARD & BE KIND TO PEOPLE', I am kinda working and am hard to people. I know that my darling & me will have a strange life, but for now...baby be good, baby be gone.

In the process of translating dreams into plans, somehow I have forgotten night-terrors are dreams too. I am awake in the later one. I remember when I used to be a Mistress of Nowness-when I ruled the world, when I was bigger than life when now, I cannot wait for now to expire, shoulder high.

I am not comfortable with the shades of grey filling the skull not playing for the same team. Making the eyes believe that everything they see is the blackest thing they ever saw. There is no hood in sisterhood of direction I want my thoughts to follow and of what I yell. Maybe 'to the sea'? Where there is horizon for I could once again feel like the center of the universe? Stop the cosmic storm breaking my knees.

Whatever you are 'self-actualization', I am not calling you a ghost, but stop haunting me. I am game, let's play! But stop biting the beautiful imagination out of me. Be whatever color but not silver, for there won't be linings. Instead, profess beauty, plain and magical into my life also, amazing grace and moment's gaze would be much appreciated .Give me a sudden thunder, so I'll know I am alive. But don't send me love, I wouldn't know what to make of it.

Could the answer be 'try a little less'? How could I ever give up? I want to be forever young, how am I expected to say goodbye forever? Am I expected to stare at the black hole and do nothing about it? Or could I please, curl up and become one? A heart full of things, but who shall I tell? Allure me to an answer for my mind is a razor blade. Can someone's paradise blow me away?

Where can I hire am octopus? I need a hug!

I'll prove I can take it on my own...                             Silence

THIS TOO SHALL PASS

I don't know who 'me' is lately. It's hard, it's weighting me down , it's confusing, it's negative, it's unhappy, it wants to cry all the time, eyes heavy, it's chaos, it's not pure like I used to be, it's unlike 'me'. Living on borrowed skin.

I feel alone, not lonely. House is full of children and pets and parents and food and friends, comers and goers. Our door is always open, like a church portal, everyone is welcome and mum and I love playing hosts. It has been this way since they invented doors to close, but not in our house, not in my house. I wouldn't know any other way, but I don't have alone time. And when I am at home because I cannot be happy not even in the sun, I haunt for lesser evil. It exhausts me. Why does my heart feel so bad?

I cannot sit and just be. Once I ran towards me, now I am running away. Get in touch with whatever I call 'my muse'. I cannot hear her from the screams of my life. She is not loud but she is always right. I cannot feel her.If I saw anything great, it was long time ago. Haven't kissed anyone in a long time. Rather, I feel negative arrows pressing me from all the directions, poking every inch of my body, crushing my will, I am kneeling now, my head bowed, ashamed. There is nothing sweet about me now. I am disgusted by myself how can I blame you for not wanting me now? 


With whole word against me (for that is how I feel) there is nothing to hold on to, to pull me up. I've got only myself and I do not know who me is! My eyes shut hard from the pain, unable to see the light. My head at my feet, cannot look up to see the salvage. My arms tied behind my back, can't reach. I'm biting my tongue, can't express, can't explain...sitting there crying. 


Now I've got only dark to shine, burning bright. 
But this too shall pass. 

TO ALBA

'Your smell is so familiar to me. It is musky, sour-sweet and warm. It is all your own. I wander if a part of this smell will stay with you as you grow, I wander if it will be the smell your lover comes to know you by, and your own children, nuzzling into your breast as you do to me now. Will you wander about their smell too?

At first you were a butterfly with wings coated with dust I dare not handle too roughly. The safety and endless hug of my belly was all you'd ever known before being pushed into the blinding light, skin-prickling cold and loud noises far removed from the reassuring thud of my heart. I kept you close and sung my love but my heart broke to imagine your fright, the unfamiliarity.

'What happened to my red, warm home?'

Where mine and papa's voices swam around, softened by the sea sound whooshing of blood, where you slept as cosy as could be while I moved about the world.

Do babies mourn leaving the womb? Is this why sometimes we can't soothe their cries? As we bathe in warm water, I curl you up over my empty stomach and I cry that it will never be your home again. That I can never again feel your kicks from the inside or give birth to you. I am cursed to constantly mourn over life passing, coursed to try in vain to capture it all (on film, in words, in images) before it slips away clumsily between my fingers like dirt. Here I show you my filthy hands, I haver marks of these memories, but I will never live them again.

Little baby bird with featherless wings, I always want you at my breast, where I know you feel safest. My white blood, my life-light flowing into you. I can't let go of my breath until you let go of yours. I know your death would be the death of me.

When you lived inside me (first in my dreams, then in my belly) I thought you'd always be us, little us. But you are not us, you are a person unlike any that has come before you. Your eyes are already filled with the wisdom you will collect, all the lives you will touch, all the happiness you will share. You are strong-willed, unwavering, a girl of her own thought. We see this in you already, like it is written.

I know you don't yet understand the concept of me existing when you cannot see me, this is why I can't bear the thought of you believing you're all alone in this confusing, unfamiliar world. There will be time for you to be alone when you know I will be there to come back for you but for now I will be beside you always. In the dead, dark quiet of night you will wake to the smell of my milk and skin, my warmth and my breath.

You dear papa regards you as the most precious and fantastic thing in the universe. From the moment I pulled you out of the water and he wept with love at the sight of you, I knew you were just as much his as you are mine. You nap on his chest every afternoon now, your papa rocking you and professing his love as he often does. You are both intertwined, like trees and breath.

You grow like a moonflower unfurling, you find your voice, sweeter than honey and you laugh loud with the same fire that burns in my own soul. You have the wildness the society tamed in me, a wildness that I'm always yearning to get back. Through you I will relive all of the feelings I thought I had lost with the passing of the childhood, I will feel every bliss and broken heart with you.

You fingers curl softly shut beside your sleeping face. As I lay my hand over your little fist it opens like a flower and a moment later I feel it closing tightly over my finger. Holding onto my hand you breath more gently as though you feel safe knowing I am there. My heart glows warm. I am you mama for always, little alba.'

-Nirrimi- 

CURRENTLY

• Less human/more being
• Erase/Rewind - favorite game
• Lick me, I'm delicious
• Living in deeds, no years; Thoughts, not breaths, in feelings not in figures on a dial.
• I don't hear, because I am not ready. But when I am ready, then its deafening.
• I will always love something more than anything I miss
• My spine is my wishbone. Soft enough to break in the name of the desire
• I stopped checking for monster under the bed when I realized it is inside of me
• I do not understand why Alice left Wonderland, but I know that this is neither Wonderland nor am I Alice 
• Dinosaurs go RAAW! 
• Let's save water and shower together

ONE IN A MILLION

I am able to love without agenda, without any reservations, without the fear of getting hurt, without the fear of loosing you and that part of me that you shall become. I can get over anything and anyone, time is always on my side. So many are too cynical, too angry, too hurt, too cool to fall head over heels. To let another swipe them of their feet. While my feet are merely touching the ground waiting for the whole body to be lifted and thrown down the waterfall.

Don't worry of my heart breaking. Because it doesn't, it only ever bends. My mind is always on my hearts side. I don't care what the captain says, I follow my heart. My ears don't hear you, your compliments, your sweet talk that will eventually undress me, but only listen to my intuition and what the tummy wants.

I am aware of what choices delivered me here. I know who's the boss of me. I know how I came to be under. But I cannot be forever down, nothing is forever. Whilst my brain will create new memories and new neuron pathways that will get stronger by each day. And when I am down for a long time, the only way is up up up. Devotion rushes out of me like lava, burning everything in site. After my love there is nothing left expect the echo of my emotions, fading slowly. I write LOVE in Caps. Plus, I have the luxury of leaving.

I know how to seduce, I studied the history of female leg. And when is breaking over me, I just lie down and cough my crooked soul onto my pillow and take time to develop another one. That is why you'll never sleep in my bed and that is why I always love as for the first time. Time without consequences. You might think me naive and  innocent, couldn't be more wrong honey.

Even if you are cold to me, its sweet for the sinner like me. You might be playing hard to get, hot & cold, it amuses me and drives me towards you. Yeah, that is my weakness, also weak arms. But I've got too much self-respect to be anyone's second choice or to stand seeing through you while you are incapable of making a decision, polite inconsideration of my future with you. I don't have time, or patience for a man of that sort. That's the darkest side of my heart and that is my defensive mechanism which I am not planning to put down. Although I am too honest in my self-acceptance to have any walls or prejudice for the next one to come and meet my open gates. 

All of the time I have a feeling that I am meant to do something extraordinary and I choose you to acquire. You should be a lucky one.

I am very lucky to be able to love again and again. I am truly blessed.

COLLAPSE INTO ME

Once and for all, I ask you not to fall in love with me. I want you to collapse into me, to jump without checking the temperature of the water first. It is OK if you are scared, that is the only way to be brave. And I need you to be brave with me, I need you to have the courage to treat me like a woman.

I know you've been hurt before, also that you hurt too. But I don't care if you do it to other. Do shut up! Every time it rains, it stopped raining! I want us to be the only couple that is able to make love across the crowded room. I want to lean over you, just out of the shower, my hair falling over your face, smelling familiar, leaking light, warming your smile. Close your eyes so I can kiss them.

I want to give you everything. I carry in me everything I will ever possibly need and I need you to take that and cherish it, let it become your cloths that will soak into your skin, and your skin soak into the bones of you, and the marrow and the dust that shall become of it, I am always on my way back. I need you to find everything that you have been searching for living inside of me.

I want you not to be scared to join me, to come home to me where I'll thank you and change your idea of heaven. Change it to be our bed, the sheets and me. I want to talk to you in that bed and fall asleep whilst. I need us to have good sex and loads of it. I like being alone in that bed of ours, but I think I'd like it better if I was alone with you. Forever would be fine with me, with you.

And every time you go away, I don't miss you, I miss us. I don't love you, I love us. I need you to realize that  before me you were merely surviving and that we should start living together today! Will you understand if I don't mourn the loss of what I was before you? 


I need you to go with me to the gallery and kiss me in front of a real big painting. I need you not to fall in love, I need you to take me and I ask you to give yourself to me. 

IF SHE HAD WINGS, SHE WOULD FLY AWAY

'My darling, girl,' I tell it to myself. 'Let your mind be, no need to explain its creative process to none, anyway they wouldn't understand, but girl, fear your heart for it is a foreigner. Be weather and whether, be patient young lady that you are impossible to be with, for a beautiful boy to save you from your old ways. He might be lost at sea, you cannot save him but do love him. You cannot run out of feelings, you cannot waste all the love of this indifferent universe that embraces and passes through you, that is you. You cannot love one better than the other, you  know that, sweet little bee, for your heart only ever expands to let it fill it whole of your being to the tip of your toes. Dance, jump, skip, sing. Be gay. '

'It's Ok,' I lie. 'But darling girl,' she speaks to me again, my inner goodess, 'You must learn to appreciate just the enough that surrounds you, but never what is you and what can you be, and you can be anything at all. Anything at all! How very exciting!'

'Don't you dare shy from the people, they are just atoms.'

'I'm trying,' I say it, almost in a whisper.

'I'll try,' I promise her.