Lost

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You ever feel lost?

I felt lost this whole semester.

Felt like my head was on backward.

Missing classes because of my anxiety.

An anxiety that I let get out of hand.

I failed exams and quizzes because of my anxiety.

My mind just blanks.

My heart beats so fast every day that I wonder how it still hasn’t exploded.

When I speak in class it’s if like word vomit comes out and I don’t make sense.

Or maybe it was just me over analyzing.

Wouldn’t be surprised.

I am an over analyzer.

This semester I felt lost.

Feel like I am going to fail.

Feel like my head wasn’t on right.

For a perfectionist, that is the end of the world.

But I don’t want to feel lost anymore.

It’s time I change my routine.

It is time I change my mindset.

If I didn’t do well this semester, God knows I’ll do well the next.

If my head is on backward, I will face it forward again.

If my heart beats fast, I will teach it to beat normal.

I am done feeling lost.

Lost simply is just not an option anymore.

Itsy Bitsy Flower

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nature red flowers yellow

Photo by Suneo1999 on Pexels.com

When I was a little girl, my world consisted of purple and flowers. Purple was my favorite color, still is. Flowers were engraved in my brain as little human beings. My mother loves flowers. Our apartment has several plants in it. Daisy’s, roses, and strange plants I’ve never seen appear in my apartment every day.

I saw them as people because my mother would sing to them and talk to them. She said plants need love, light, and water to grow. I ended up singing to them as well when my mother wasn’t looking. I viewed them as little versions of me. I knew that I needed lots of love to grow as well. It was evident to me that my mother engraved this philosophy that in life you thrive from love. As you get older, you forget how powerful this abstract word is. I know sometimes I definitely forget the power of love.

I forget that I need love to keep growing into the flower I am. I can say some pretty rude things to myself. I look in the mirror and talk to myself but not the way my mother did with the plants. I honestly tear myself down. I over think. I water myself with music and words that only bury me deeper in dislike and hate.

Till this day my mother waters and sings to her flowers. The other day she said to one of the plants, “You are so pretty. I am proud of you. Look how beautiful those petals look.” Minutes before that I happened to have been beating myself up with words because of my own disappointments and bitterness.

She made me think, when did I stop being that girl who sang to the flowers. The same girl who sang beautiful words to herself. It’s a shame that as I got older, I forgot a flower like me needs love. Self-love to be exact.

My mother reminds me every day that the words we put into living things have the power to help it deteriorate or grow.

“Treat yourself like a flower.”

I might be a hurt itsy bitsy flower, but with some self-love, my petals will always regrow…

 

 

 

 

 

 

To the Past who Believed in me

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silhouette photo of trees

Photo by Jonathan Aman on Pexels.com

Trees, clouds, and open terrain.

My life was complete with you holding my hand.

When I cried, there you were to open my eyes and show me the world wasn’t as bad.

Sunshine, love and summer breeze.

There you played with my hair under a big old tree.

Summer, love and palm trees.

My head spun as we skated down the street.

My younger years were with you by my side.

All I hope now is that where ever you are, whoever you are with, you would never lose your worth.

Hugs, love, teenage dreams.

May you believe in yourself always, the way you believed in me…

Running Soul

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When I sleep my spirit dances outside of my body.

The wind grabs my spirit and drags it out of the flesh where it’s been caged in.

My soul walks through the apartment and everything is dark.

The only thing on is the t.v in my living room.

No one is home, just my soul and my body that is laying on the bed.

My soul hears the spirits who never made it back in their flesh.

Scared to end up like them, my soul runs and jumps back in my body.

I wake up and wonder if I was dead last night.

If I entered a realm different from my own.

Lucid dreaming.

A state of running from the lost souls.

Life of a student

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The life of a student.

It is when attendance matters so you walk to class in snow or rain.

It is where you learn to balance friends with work.

Where you balance money and education.

Where balancing responsibilities with desires go in hand.

The life of a student.

Determination will get you through it.

One day when you get that diploma, it will all be worth it.

Oh, how I love the life of a student.