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Fledgling or not -here I come

Today my thoughts confound me.

Bombard

Hijacked emotions detonated into a familar war zone.

The survivors feel mixed up for another mistaken identity

passport confiscated by newfound enemies.

A glimpse

the letter

E
motion

this queue finally advances

25 letters fated to the gates of uncertainty.

A survivor is stuck in the middle -it’s me -a headless body with a hidden agenda

Skin flushed assimilates bloody shadow a crimson hue mane of the unflinchers –
pale, skeletal, naked, destitute, some even of their robbed of own teeth

a pile-up -bodies all shook
adorned by a hand, ankle, A cold shoulder, one fair nipple, a flaccid penis

Perhaps your inner idealist
can resurrect these lives distorted by final moments -a conscious full of shame.

No dignity

No burial for those of faith

Souls denied a peaceful resting place.

The faithless blasted out mid breathe energy kinesthetic Life mid beat -legged it

A desperate plight -scientific proof hearts can beat or flee.

My body under constant surveillance

The scourge of self-scrutiny

Double doubt implants enhance all traces of unwanted memories

Should I hide my body

my identity?

The very essence of my being?

Caught unawares

emotions -use tic tactics

Thoughts use unrestrained strategies.

Haunched knees

propped up by bare feet

conditioned to protect my diasporic body

Roughly re-examine all once held beliefs.

Displaced her head!

how contrary I would have said

pure insanity I willingly would share.

If I don’t have any thought

or an opinion I’ve sought out myself.

I’ll become a diminutive

No person will ever see me

No person will hear my roar.

This voice will become non-existent -all my declarations are torn from the books of history
uninformed therefore never spoken nor unwritten

My right is to live and be!

My right is to feed peacefully

not between flippant mercenaries abiding by wall division protocol that I can’t see.

body displacement

head

disconnected to set a prenup engagement

How is it I feel the pressure of the tummy bloat after the soldiers who gloat

Finally relieved

of their lack of familiarity?

No sense die-hard before a sensation penetrates the first bloom of intimacy

They forget how hard they push

enter the orifice

Where I learned how to formulate words.

All I have is words and sound.

They take liberties- jabs & jeers are the echo chamber to my inner core.

Rotting

Bed rest

Bedsores,

These are the spoils of war.

Degraded

Defaced

Disgraced

My Emotions are absolute in their conviction

My sentence – A Disempowered daily mantra

I am to be their common whore.

a concubine filled up on spew, chunks of bile flotsam

traces keep me chronically ill.

Medical treatment denied because I’ve forgotten how to express my will

The West states I’m worth it !

the East send out a search party

Direction?

Possibly

on wise mind hill

There is no privacy.

My body is presented against my will

These clothes cover up the tight jeans that have become my only woe

Self-growth without a choice in how I present my self

I can’t

I have.

Scratch these newly formed scabs for I have lost my flair

writing words to recover

self-oppression lost out in the talent show of acquired skills

Recovery is heartbreaking.

Hoochie flavoured scent
sniff out trouble keeps me imprisoned

I look up -the window is clear still

Or perhaps my beliefs are outdated.

Murder with intent

disarm these emotions

strangers with a familiar stance

Physical appearance is my only strength?

How Naive a woman can be

One strip away from freedom

I claim a culture of sound

unification

Dance a tango inner peace with an outward serenity.

matching outfits

Silk lined hemmed skirts

embroidered letters spell out a movement of hope.

I’m one dancer

I’m one dissident

My possessions:
Passion

a fledgeling feather

& ink well
will deliver

A pregnant pause followed by a ward filled with the birth of more words

sentences will start to show

the labour of courage pushed out in its full placenta -reborn – free feathered fledgelings take flight

-A yoke is sky born

These are my words -maybe she wrote/ be happy or die trying.

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Why do I do this to myself?

Then again, Why not ? A small update on the NaNoWriMO front.

I have got my achievement badge of 10 000 words. Oh yeah! It’s pretty organic and rough but there is a story down. It is tangible and there is shit going on in it that may appeal to some one other than my characters sometime in my future life. I don’t know how some  writers  who plan every detail of their character’s tastes, shoe size -temperament etc. ever get around to writing and finishing a novel. I’m not trying to big myself up but I guess I need to be that person who pats herself on the back sometimes.  Aint No-body who  is gonna do it for you.This writing thing shows commitment. Doing challenges like this adds character and reveals another layer of  our highly complexed selves, that is more interpretable to ourselves and the world and people who live around us . At least, this is what I think it does for me. So 20 days to go  and 40 000  coherent linked up  words to write and make into a story.

Maybe my writing is worthy of some praise- then again- maybe not. At-least I’m putting myself out there. Getting out of my safety zone. Speaking/typing  of which, I have only gone and said I will stand up in front of a bunch of people next week and briefly talk to them about Anti-stigma and mental health. I hate talking in crowds. I’m more of a one on one sort of gal. There is only one way to conquer the fear of losing my train of thought when I get up and start my mini speech; and that is to confront it head on. Oh and make notes. tee hee!

Yeah, cos this will really catch on and be a hit right?

Yeah, cos this will really catch on and be a hit right?

Wing it until you make it.’

Not a unhealthy quote to live by.

That reminds me! I need to create a mantra for myself -to big myself up for my mini speech and be a credible person to work with in a work shop. Okay. thinking of a mantra…

” I AM A GREAT PUBLIC SPEAKER AND I AM AN ASSET TO THIS WORKSHOP”  – my mantra until next wed.

I’m rolling with it. I’m finding my place and it’s exciting and terrifying. I was a brilliant travel consultant and had loads of confidence a few years ago. I was good in every job I took on. I became ill again and I got up again. Never stop getting up.  I’m not about to let my side down now or ever. The one problem I do have is, there is so much I want to do but I am only human and can only work  within the 24 hour day structure. The main thing in is my mental health and physical health is good. The amount of pressure and stress I am putting on myself is not insurmountable. I’m having a blast!

P.S. no cocktails until Christmas (  apologies for actually bringing this word up as we are still in November- may I get no orange and half a lump of coal in my sack . It is time to detox the natural way. I am partial to a green tea and slice of lemon in hot water most days and the writer in me demands coffee. I am healthy therefore I must have one vice….