Archive for Self-Love

The Wrong Reflection

Posted in Healing My Own N-traits, How to Heal, My Childhood, Poems, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , on March 15, 2013 by Aya

If people aren’t like you

What are they like?

If  I’m not like you

What am I like?

people can  see me

Can’t they?

I should ask them

“What am I like?”

I need to hear flatteries

Saying nothing about me is just as bad as

Shame triggering poisonous attacks

makes me try harder

to be lovable

Like other people

My reflection’s off

I was trapped in the mirror

The fire of my awareness

Melted the hard walls

allowing me to see

Different directions

Into a maze

The journey is a labyrinth

my psycho experience

my somatic experience

No longer frozen in a reflection

I feel ablazed with sensations.

© 2012 IAP Art Group ™ All Rights Reserved

I want to be lost

Posted in Poems, Rants, Uncategorized with tags , , , , on January 7, 2013 by Aya
I want to be lost
I’ve used that as a shield
never before have I looked up to you
and not have to feel sherds of self protection
I don’t want to be hardened
I don’t want that part of my life to be real
I’ve tried to knock myself out
The parts of me that could never fight you
Because I couldn’t understand what was happening
I don’t understand what to do with the sensation
that has to fight
I’m afraid I’m gonna die
So i’ve been trying not to  live

© 2012 IAP Art Group ™ All Rights Reserved

The Fairest of them All . . . Finally

Posted in My Childhood, shorts with tags , , , , , , , on September 29, 2012 by Aya

“Hey, when she calls, right, tell her ass that I locked myself in my room, and I’m sitt’in in the corner rock’in  and I’m say’in,” makes retarded gesture and in the ghostly voice says, “whhhy . . . whhy . . . whhhhy.”

The two sisters burst into laughter.

“What the hell!,” Olivia can barely contain her  laughter. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buuut . . . ,” she didn’t understand why she was doing it.

“. . . That’s what she wants to hear right?,” Constance knows that if they do it all types of things will be set into motion, there will be phone calls made and people that she really doesn’t want worried will feel bad. So instead she compromises, “Fine just tell her I’m in a mental hospital.”

“Okaaaay.”

That gives Constance such a warm feeling of peace inside. Finally, she’ll be telling her mother what she has always wanted to hear, that she is lifeless, that she has given up, she can be the best, the winner now, she can be the fairest of them all. The fight and the struggle for Constance’s peace and happiness will be over, she can go on living her life in without worrying if  her mother  is going to be lurking around the corner trying to sabotage the existence of her happiness.

© 2012 IAP Art Group ™ All Rights Reserved

Self-Hate Embrace

Posted in Healing My Own N-traits, My Childhood, Poems, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on September 28, 2012 by Aya

Why should I trust you again

I had to love you

Silent wars on you

Couldn’t Breathe without you

Hard to sleep, nightmares about you

How did it feel

Getting your ass handed to you

The Door slammed in your face

At 18 pregnant with me

The memory is in the fibers of matrix

I could probably feel it for you, for us

Everything you said and did I was connected to you

All your snacks attached to me

Coconut Cakes, pickles

Sadness and shame

God she wasn’t on my side

Couldn’t you see it

She wouldn’t let me grow

She wouldn’t let me go

I had to drink the stuff that she is made up of

Poisonous vile acidity hatred

Cut for miles in a molten river down my spine

Some other people swim in my Nile

And we dance together

It’s a side of them

That only I see

I am the Hated ONE

It’s ok to hate me

I don’t understand why come

As fabulous as I am

God made me beautiful, as you can see

I am the the epitome of creativty

My hips are perfectly round

My skin like melt

My heart so soft

My eyes the depth

I like to move

I love to shake

I sing better than the birds

Your heart will melt

I am a mixture of the joy and the pain

I accept them both

I accept my self hatred as part of my growth.

© 2012 IAP Art Group ™ All Rights Reserved

Wasteland Love

Posted in Healing My Own N-traits, Poems, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on September 12, 2012 by Aya
Come join me in my wasteland
I promise I have a cure
I lure you into my fakeland
No Faceland
empty promiseland
subract and minus and
Void
plus you
There are things you will find
I do it to myself
Questionings, Doubt, can’t feel and don’t move
Scouring and Burning
The sensations devouring
I didn’t mean to
Now that I know
My path is mine to plow
Wasteland, It’s mine to devour
All the horror
All the wandering
The Doubts and Questionings
I have other eras inside this lifetime
I used to spend time with Leon
It was like air back then
Air doesn’t stand still
How do I keep up with the wind
I peak back at us
That ease
Walking down the dirt road
I stand still in my storm
I see three abandoned dogs
Counting the cost in the prairie
Should one, they leave and come with me
Or stay, stay together has a family
What was I thinking?
They will find their own way
They have a family on the farm
They will find their way
Leaving them behind I change but at a slow pace.
 
© 2012 IAP Art Group ™ All Rights Reserved

Am I Dead?

Posted in Healing My Own N-traits, My Childhood, Poems, Rants, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 12, 2012 by Aya
My dreams never came true
Am I dead?
My biggest shame.
My biggest melt down in life.
I have never come back from
Something in me has given up
For all time
I suppressed this
The thought
'I minus well be a stripper'
because I felt that becoming an object of a man's sexual desire
Would be the only way for me to have any form of affection or be desired
Wanted, Liked, looked at as an object of love and affection
Instead of an object of hatred and disgust
Yes I was an object of hatred and disgust
My mother couldn't help but roll her eyes at me every chance she got
I thought that it was all my fault
I thought that I couldn't do anything right or worthy of a happy reaction
My mother couldn't help but to put down my life and way of being
And I mean couldn't help
I mean I understand that she did the best that she could
I bow my head in compassion
But I am in knots
I can barely live
I can barely move
And I can't seem to make myself function to make my dreams come true
Am I dead?
I didn't want to be specified or tied down by you
Defined by your personal restrictions
How come I can't figure it out as I go along
Oh well, we've already been through this
I really am done with that part
Subservient
Cut me like a tree
I'm nubbed 
Shaking
In Pain
REtarded and 
Inflamed
Frozen and 
Trapped
Demented, tormented
By Bigger and Older People 
Immature
I wanted so much for them to be
Mature 
To give me advice
To be the one I called on
To encourage me when I fail
To catch me when I fall
They all want me to just accept them for who they are
What does that mean?
I will only know when.

© 2012 IAP Art Group ™ All Rights Reserved