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"Fuck broken homes and forgotten goals!"




Titled: "Flow Master" by GabyNobody.


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This week was one of those weeks where I feel like Spirit flowed through me so organically, I can't believe it's already Monday again. I found myself in a Virtual Open Mic, hosted by @Awkwardly.Khaotic, and to me... Open Mic Nights are always church to my soul. I found myself writing new poetry, and completing a painting that sang my name when I first woke up. Also found myself, hiking and pushing 1000% in my kickboxing classes. Oh yes, I found myself FINALLY signing up for these badass kickboxing classes (KickHouse) and I'll be in my 7th class once this article actually publishes.

Maybe it's a mixture of me screaming whenever I felt the need to, and praying to Everything above and within me, but the sky is slowly clearing up.

The abuse that I have shared about in previous articles, no longer locks me down in anxiety. At least, it did not this week and I am so fucking grateful.

Reach out, speak your truth and below you will find 2 poems that I have recently written as I dig myself out of the consequences and rippled effects of an asshole.



Poem #1: "No black eyes"

No black eyes, nor broken bones.

But broken homes- forgotten goals.

Scattered dreams, low self-esteem.

Baby breathe in deep, and loudly scream,

“Fuck broken homes and forgotten goals!”


You are whole. Claim your throne.

Speak your truth, You always choose.

Right now may be a lil blurry, yet baby you are WORTHY.

You deserve love and respect, to vibe and connect,

You reserve the right to consent.

Fuck broken homes and forgotten goals.

Fuck up all these sticks and stones.

Together we rise, together we fly

All Earls must fucking die.



Poem #2: "Diction."

Shower me with hope, and then drown me in the same water.

Choke, then grow some gills, the vision is much broader.

Said mission as Nature’s daughters

Intuition of destined mothers.

Tic-Tac-Toeing from this position

Making conscious decisions

To push with these ambitions.

Set in stone, by definition

Me, Myself, and I is my only competition.

Driven by Love and all its power

To BE it is my religion.

Dark thoughts sometimes get twisted,

So I speak em with tone and diction.

Kill em with kindness, baby that’s a given.

Yah, you will never see me kneel nor witness my submission.


 



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