Love Yourself

Feeling unloved is one thing,
feeling unlovable is another.
The latter is the very first
step to self-destruction.

When you begin to feel unlovable,
you stop loving yourself.

You can survive if other
people don’t love you,
but you can’t, if you don’t love yourself.

Advertisements

Don’t Live in Denial

When someone shows you
who they really are,
you must believe them.
Don’t live in denial.
Make no excuses for them.
Go over what you learnt
from your experience with them,
forgive yourself for everything
you think you did wrong,
and move on.

Exist in the present,
bury the dead feelings that have
made your heart their home,
and leave it all behind.
Live.


UNREQUITED LOVE:

There are two kinds of abuse in love. The first kind is the one you suffer from before the other person shows you who they really are and what they really want. The abuser would be them if it’s the first kind, because they can’t really decide if they want you or not, at your own expense. They’re not sure if they love you, so they want you to wait till they make up their mind.

The other kind is self-inflicted. Someone bluntly says they don’t love you or they don’t want to have anything to do with you and you say “oh, I mustn’t pay any attention to that. He’s a Pisces. He’s just being his moody self; there’s nothing wrong here,” or someone refuses to return your calls and messages and you say “you know how these INFP Capricorns and Scorpios are, plus his grandma’s sister’s daughter’s baby daddy’s second cousin’s niece died, so he’s probably just in a bad mood or busy with work”. No, what are you doing?

The other person/party wouldn’t be at fault in cases like the second one. It’s up to you to jolt out of this terrible, energy-sucking fantasy that you have placed yourself in.

Ask yourself, “what good is this unbalanced, abusive union or lack thereof to me?” If your answer is “none”, you can make a change right there and then. You can cry if you need to. You have to make yourself happy again, without them. 

You wouldn’t need to worry about, or be unsure if someone loves you if they do, because it will be clear; it will be as clear as a bright, sunny day.

The key to the prison in your heart is in a safe place in your mind. In cases of unrequited love, one must accept the challenge of thinking more and feeling less. Feeling and daydreaming, till it begins to affect your health, will affect you very badly. It will make you useless to yourself. It’s hard, but one must die first to possess eternal life. Stop living in denial. Let go! 🌻 “Alaafia.” 💛🍯

Can We Be ‘Grokay’?

Can one be great but not okay?
Can one be okay but not great?
Can you be everything but okay?
Can you be okay, but without anything?
How can we be okay if we’re not great?
But, how can you be great if you’re not okay?

 


Money or Art?
Money or Life?
What do we do? We need both. 
We don’t get paid for living, we need money to survive,
but we don’t live when the money comes first.
Our art dies and so do we.

Defective Heart

I was born with a broken heart,
and no one can care for me
or love me enough.
If they don’t care for me
or love me for a day,
I’ll go back to being paranoid and hurt,
and I’ll be much worse than I was
before they came into my life.

No light is bright enough for my darkness;
nobody’s trust can make me totally fearless.
No love is compatible enough with my heart;
no brush is good enough for my art.
No air is fresh enough for my lungs;
no drums are good enough for my songs.

I must learn.
I must learn how to love myself.
No one’ll ever love me more
than myself.
No one’ll ever love my self more
than me.

Unre-QUIT-ed II

Staying with someone who doesn’t love you because you love them.
Being okay with it because you think you have them, at least, but you don’t.

You have him or her but they’re not yours. You can touch them and pet them and feed them and kiss them but they’re not yours. All those things won’t make them yours. You know that quite well but you wish you didn’t. 

For some reason, for love reasons, holding on seems a lot easier than letting go. You know you’re treading on a futile, wrong path, but you’re not stopping. You’re lost. You have to stop and turn back. You can’t find the right path if you don’t stop.

It’s hard. It’s hard to quit this unrequited love…

Love Lives, Love Dies

Every love is a risky gamble.
A person might need you for a thing,
for something, for anything,
but it’s for a set amount of time.
They’ll be the butterfly;
you’ll be the flower.
They might bring beauty to your life;
it’s what butterflies do.

When they’re done with you,
they’ll give any excuse to leave.
They’ll be very manipulative;
they’ll turn it on you.
They’ll play with your intelligence
and blame it on you-
their desire to flap their wings,
their need to explore.

“Your petals don’t smell as nice
as they used to;
I’m leaving you.”
“Your breasts aren’t perky enough and
you are not as tight as I want, down there.”
“You have thorns and they’re poking me;
oh, if only you were a red rose!”
“You were rude to me”,
so I’m saying ‘goodbye’ now.”
“You are letting the breeze
blow you from side to side,
and I can’t deal with that.”
“If only you were a few inches longer.”

Why do you think a person who has
treated you so badly still deserves you?
You have to snap out of it!
Make new friends!
You owe it yourself to heal;
you owe it to yourself to feel-
to feel free.
You owe it to yourself to breathe-
to live.
Grieve.
Forgive.
From the imaginary relationship
that you’re still holding on to?
Leave.

You are the One

Her hair is laid,
her nails, made,
she wants to go out
to find love today.
She’s pacing, she’s running,
but she’s sitting in front of her mirror.
She’s going to look for ‘the one’,
anywhere and anyhow necessary,
but she won’t find him.

She has been running from herself;
she has been looking for herself.
She’s the one;
she’s the only one,
and the love she so desperately
seeks must come from her heart.
No man’s love will satisfy her for long;
it will only last for a while,
but she won’t admit that.

She wants someone else to breathe for her;
she doesn’t know how to breathe on her own.
She wants someone else to live with her;
she doesn’t know how to live on her own.
She is alive in appearance,
and that body could bring a
dead man back to life,
but she is dying.
Her heart is very weak,
and her soul has been crying.
If you don’t love yourself,
why would you expect someone else to?

 

Discharged and Unrequited

You let me listen to your heartbeat,
but I didn’t hear my name.
You don’t like to listen to mine
because you know it’s not the same.
I have fallen for you,
but how can you rescue me

if you keep pretending I’m not here?
I daydream about us two, 
but how can these things come
to pass if you don’t draw me near?

Why do you call me ” my dear”?
Why do you even dare?
You make me believe our destination is near,
on this smooth path that leads nowhere.
Why do you look into my eyes?
And ask for more of my rice?
Why do you bend the knee if you
have no desire to make me your queen?

Why do you make me come
if you don’t want me to stay?
Why did you build me this home
in order to send me away?
My nipples get hard when I think of you;
you should have left me dead
if I’m not the one you want to wed.
I don’t know what to do;
how do I just let you go
if “us” grew long ago?

Why do you make me come
if you don’t want me to stay?
Why did you build me this home
in order to send me away?
I daydreamed a lot about us two;
you should have left me dead
if I’m not the one you want to wed.
I don’t know what to do;
how do I just let you go
if “us” grew long ago?

Pain for Pleasure

Let the pain come,
pleasure it properly,
cry if you need to,
but let it go.
Let the pain go.

 

We experience pain for our own pleasure;
we experience the past for
the sake of our future.
We get too scared of death,
but we shouldn’t.
We do need to die;
we need to die to live eternally.
No one gets the second without the first;
accept change and transformation.

 

The Beds and the “Bih”s

Have you ever seen a flower cry because they aren’t being eaten up and feasted on by parasites? Well, I have.

My best fairy tale was the Ugly Duckling
because I felt her every pain.

I was the flower with thorns
that no man wanted to touch,
and while the other flowers had butterflies
and bees and birds circling
them and perching on them,
none of them came that close to me.
Their pollination took place
at the wrong time, of course;
they multiplied before they were fruitful.

And what about the butterflies
and the bees and the birds?
Well, they all went away after a while.