Butterfly...

As I opened my eyes this morning, 

I stretched.

I didn't stop stretching.

I expanded myself.

I felt my outer shell breaking.

Is this Freedom?

I thought it was.

A spud of excitement grew within

But I kept on stretching, beyond control

Beyond my reach

Beyond the spaces that I actually know.

For a brief second, fear crept in.

I was scared, scared of the unknown

But it stopped.

The fear, the growth, the breaks.

Everything stopped.

I looked down

I was different.

I was beautiful.

I had features unique to myself 

But common to all. 

I wasn't sure what to do with it.

Then I took a step.

But it wasn't a step. 

I was flying

See I had wings

The most beautiful set I had ever seen

I had no ears for those who didn't believe so.

I took off and began to fly

I flew and flew into the darkest night

See all this while I was in a cocoon 

Sheltered from this world.

Hidden in darkness

In what I thought was my comfort zone

Little did I know there was a plan

I thought I could hide from it

Sleep it away

But it was a process...

A development

And now I fly today.

Today I am a butterfly.

I had no plan on writing that poem. I literally put my fingers to the keyboard and began to type and that all came out. I was gonna go on about how it's summer and how as a graduate and that I'm open to new things and how this blog will reflect that and how I've had bad experiences, and how I've been dwelling in them, hiding from the world, but now I'm ready to use them to grow. That was the point of the post, thats IS the point. And being a butterfly metaphorically represents it all. 

...with a dream

A woman with a dream is viewed as many things.
She's looked up to by those 'below'.
She's placed on a pedestal of role modal expectations
Her every move is watched.

A woman with a dream, is considered as lethal
She'll cut anything or one in her way
She'll strive through it all to achieve the end goal
Her actions are being noted

A woman with a dream is considered feminist
Sometimes not by her choice.
For she stands against what the norm
Her ways depict this at least

A woman with a dream can be seen as selfish
After her own fulfilment's in life
When her family at home don't get as much love as her work
Her decisions are intended for her alone

A woman with a dream is considered conflicted
for society expects other things from her
And while she wants those things as well
Her choices are being judged.

A woman with a dream is over ambitious
She's greedy, selfish and self-absorbed.
Her sole focus is herself, she cares for no one else
Her lifestyle is frowned upon.

A woman with a dream is a struggle to be
For there's too many pros vs cons.
And in a a finding the right balance the dream is lost
Thus is the woman too.

Angel

This is an old piece. From 2010 I think. Just re-discovered it and thought to share. Enjoy. x

Angel*

She crept in the room to check on her child!

And the he lay, so meek and mild.

But the room felt cold, abnormally weird

The atmosphere was dark; so into the cot she peered.

Her baby was blue, still as a stone,

She was right when she felt that something was wrong.

She picked up her baby, a victim of theft,

Her baby had been visited by the Angel of Death! 

Dying Love (part 2)

The first dying love series I did was back in November 2013: Dying Love, I wrote it as part one because I knew there were many definitions to a dying love. Wrote this one about a year and a bit after. But for some reason couldn't publish it. Anyways, read through both and let me know.

Dear someone,

 I'm trying to dettach myself from you, so I refuse to address you by name. I believe this will make thng easier when you part. I'll cut the small talk, because I know you enjoy it, and I'll get to the main point. because you don't deserve it. I hate you. I think you are rude, I think you are obnoxious, I think you are alot of bad things to be honest, but the worst thing you've done is be my friend. How could you do that? People may think I'm selfish for being mad at you, but I think your the selfish one. How could you let us grow so close. How could you listen to all my problems and understand me so well. How could you know the right things to say? How could you know secrets about me that even my siblings didn't know? How could you get mad at me, but make up with me before the end of the day? Why didn't you ever just stay mad and just walk away? You didn't have to return, I'd've lived if you didn't but we went through all those and just grew strong. How could you be the only one to tell me when I was wrong. How coud you be so judgemental yet so understanding.
Why did you steal from me and make me laugh about it? Why did you let us have all those good times? I don't understand, what were you trying to achieve? What point were you trying to make? Now I'm here, looking like a fool, because my best friend has chosen to die. You're not allowed to do this. You can't leave me in this earth. You kept me all to yourself and then just dumped me when you were done? What do I do with your secrets? Or you polka dot top? Do I throw out you iPod , how do I stop?
I love you in a way that no one understands, the kind of way that's weird if we both hold hands, but cool when we hug and kiss on the cheeks but now it just one way as only one of us exists.

I hate you right now, because this is what you've done.
I hate you because now I feel lost.
I hate you to the point that my heart in in pain.
I hate you so much , all I can do is LOVE!



I love you.

Toni.

The man in my head.

The man in my head makes it impossible for me to beloved,
Because by his standards, no man is ever enough.
From his looks to his intelligence, to his passions to his names
All other men are commoners to this beauty in my brain.
I know what job he has, how many kids he wants.
I know his life plans and where we will reside.