Monday, November 29, 2010

November Rebirth.

My wings are growing back from being clipped.

My heart is rich and full of summer.

There are roses all over this place.

I'm finding that even in this cold space

And heartless world, there are still

Beings that make me believe in the seasons.

Makes me believe that change is not far from reason.

I was bleeding for so long but the wounds

Are not as apparent as they used to be.

I told you I would grow and this garden is blooming.

They doomed me.

And they cursed me with crosses wrapped

Around their neck's.

Pretending to be religious.

I was the prey.

And I lifted hands to sing them hymns

Only to be filled with sin.

They forgot how to pray.

This is where the resurrection inside of me took place.

I chanted prayers into myself begging a God to take me away.

And I know they feel the plague now.

They stole the sun from me, and they can't see the light of day now.

I hope my name whispers in the winter winds.

These days are lighter and I can feel

Sunshine in my skin.

I can taste summer's scent again.

And here it goes.

I'm running back to the the mouth of the ocean.

Heading towards the start.

I'm advancing to go.

Always shielding my heart, but open to fill it with

Autumns and springs.

There are things my psalms were holding onto.

Memories and venomous secrets

I always hid them well.

And only time will tell, if they were worth it.

I can't recite you any bible verses,

I don't attend any church,

And on Sunday's, I try not to curse.

But shit, sometimes my heart hurts.

And I can't tell you if God is a man or woman,

But I can tell you he or she exists in me.

And I was reborn because of the fear that they don't.

I reverted back to my methodist baptism.

Closed my eyes and felt purified.

This isn't religious, this is spirtitual.

You won't find any written rituals on these walls.

Tear them down and you'll see tears

Of unheard prayers and sinful years.

They called me a martyr.

Because I refused to beg for forgiveness; I was slaughtered.

I was running away from the fragrant memories of

Bloodied wrists and toxic kisses.

The hisses of yesterday's repent hung heavy

Around my fingertips;

Pushing it's winds in my clenched fists.

I'm fighting for myself even if that mean I have to reminisce.

It's creating a war.

Between my past and my sanity.

Insatiably melancholy; I was never the gospel type.

But these days my laughter is filling with church bells

And I'm remembering how to sing.

This is more than medallions enlaced with jesus' face

And this is more than rosaries as fashion emblems.

And this is more than tattooed ohm symbols.

This is the beginning.

And a journey of finding a self love that was locked

Away for a love scathed.

These bruises will fade I know, and

The rebirth of my soul will be biblical.

I move in yellow movements, no longer living indigo.

Those criminals are evil.

Sneaking fruit from forbidden tree's, still thinking they're holy,

So many adam's and eve's; these thieves may be the death of me.

Moving through streams of expectations and

Blind hallucinations,

Drinking wine and bread; forgetting what the pastor said.

Creating sin's in unwedded beds.

Isn't this what satan fed?

Feeling like i'm getting lost in a bible verse I once read.

All of these holy ghosts are following me and living in my head.

Tried to stay pure; sinned some more instead.

But i'm getting older now.

And it's amazing how far i've come from

Youthful insecurities, and chasing lovesick remedies,

I should have know then someone higher was defending me.

This is about believing in something, everyday.

And there is a power in me that I've missed.

I'm alive because Buddha, Allah, and Jesus exist.

I know i'm breathing for a reason,

How dare you call me atheist.


Love, Tianamonique.