The Singular Syllable of Love

rain.jpg

 

All the stuffs was worth it

The discussions

The confusion

Made it painful at times

Maybe I had

hurts

and

pains

but the uncertainty was worth

us

 

Although the pragmatic part of me wants to rationalize the notion that

love doesn’t conquer all, it sure as fuck didn’t conquer this

raindrops

Matters of the heart

are anything but pragmatic

 

 

 

Microscope verses telescope

Am I the ant or the tree

Am I the brutish concrete

or am I

the bird in the sky?

This love-is it mine?

no it’s gods

no it’s gods

it’s ours

it’s gods

ours

is

god

god is us

it’s you

me

and

she

found me

we

us

I want to be the bird, the tree, even if it brings you further from me

 

To love you truly is to love myself
To love myself is to live in my truth

 

 

hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 

flowers

 

Let me slow down here

to let you catch up to me

I won’t wait for you

That entails some sort of vanity

I come with angelic purity

My trueNess in nature is simply that god damnit I love you

I will continue to keep my promises because

I honor our love

with

fulfilled promises
(because shit, I don’t know, it feels right)

b

And so

when the earth shakes
and the buildings crumble
and I die
and my body turns to ash
and my eyeballs see no more
and my tongue no longer speaks

my heart will provide

as a seed

and my blood

will pose as water

and one singular beat will

spring from beneath

the rubble

and it will say

love. 

Love is one syllable
it is the oneness
it is the continuum
and it makes no demands

 

I received the gift of loving
you.

sky.jpg

Sometimes I lose the magic.

My humanly body makes demands

I think

I thought

myself

into a rut

of he loves me he loves me nots 

and I forget

what my love

feels like

I replace her with my ego

I thought

I could will my self

into what I want

There I go again…

Rioting against love

 

 

You see this poem is

an ode to you

but not

for you

it is for me 

it is for love

for the empowerment I feel

being in love

with you

for the truth

for a love that feeds itself

for my reCoNNection to Spirit

sun

 

the glittering whispers from angels

remind me of the promise I made

This is my graceful bow out

my fair well to you King

my recognition of departure

my gratitude for the us

 

my buh bye

good bye

buh bye

buh bye

buh bye
buh bye now
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Author:

I am a 26 year old Japanese American queer cis female who is from the bay area and currently lives in Portland, Oregon with her pitbull named Yuki. She is my pride and joy. I have been sober since 2014 and started to work in the sex industry in December 2016. We moved to Portland about 4 years ago in 2013 and have been learning how to thrive in this grey, wet, yet charming environment of Portland. Three things attracted me to this magic nook on the west coast. Tree tunnels (as I like to call them) that tower over roads swallowing you into a tube of nature, people’s tendency to look you in the eye and ask how you’re doing (with expectation of a genuine answer), and tea houses/coffee shops are a past time here. They say this is the city where 20 year olds come to retire or the city of refugee weirdos who just didn’t quite fit in. My diagnosis of Portland is the city that embraces those who love to isolate and be awkward so if hiding out in your room to geek out on your blog or simply drink tea in your room all day is your thing I suggest you check out what the fuss is about in Portlandia. Although Portland is whimsical in it’s own right it has a major amends to make to it’s citizens of color. It’s been here that I’ve learned the most about activism and politics unfortunately as a result of the city’s non acknowledgement of all of their citizens. The citizens here although progressive in it’s own way participates in it’s own subtle yet powerful microaggressions daily. The city is vanilla to put it lightly. When I am not day dreaming of sunnier days you can find me in a tea shop rambling in my journal about the romantic fantasy of hopping a train or living out of a van, admiring baby doll heads and crooked picture frames, watering my indoor plants desperately trying to learn how to have a green thumb, geeking out on astrology charts, obsessing over Michael Jackson and screaming all his songs, flooding my earphones with Princess Nokia to CocoRosie to Mac Dre to name my top favorites, going to strip clubs, crying, praying, attending pole dancing class and learning a variety of ways to make my beautiful backside bounce, holding hands, blowing bubbles, dismantling the patriarchy, writing a story, a poem or working on a zine. My blog has no rhyme or reason but you may find some of those influences as themes in within my posts. What I do hope to do with my blog is expose myself vulnerably if nothing else as an act of leaving behind a documented record of my human-ness but the truest hope, dream in fact, is to help someone out there to feel less alone. I hope that through my ability to candidly share my rawest sense of self I can help build an online community of witches, activists, freedom fighters, freaks, mermaids, pretty boys, studly girls, theys, and thems.

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