My Atoms Have Always Know And Loved Your Atoms. Maybe That Is Why We Understand Each Other Like Nobody

"Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep"

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.

~Mary Elizabeth Frye

One day we will be able to breathe again.

And the forest hugged me, the moss sheltering, the leaves and vines curling and the wild flowers showering me with perfume.

"Welcome back," the forest whispered in my ear," I've missed you."

~Me

I wish to learn the history in your bones.

"A House with No Mirrors"

I live in a house. A house with no mirrors.

What am I hiding from, you may wonder. What is it that I don't want to see?

Is it the way my mother's smile quivers when she's been hurt? Or the violent anger my father's fist holds?

Is it them I'm avoiding? Or… is it me?

Do I hate the curve of my nose, the same nose I share with my father? Or is it the hint of my mother's cheekbones, that I can't stand?

Do I despise the oppressor or pity the victim? Do I…. fear them? Fear becoming them? Or do I fear myself?

Which category do I belong to? Which one am i? A perfect blend of the oppressor and the oppressed. Where do I fit in?

In the broken cracks, where the world forgot, or perhaps, chose to forget, about me because it's so much easier to ignore than accept that there's a gaping flaw in the system. Where at some point, I too forgot the feeling of a warm embrace and loving eyes. And with the broken shards of time, I forgot my own name. Just like I hope to forget my own face.

I look in the mirror. Who am I looking at this time? A monster? Or his slave? Whose face do I see more?

Whichever one it is, I know for a fact that it's not my face that I see but theirs.

Always theirs.

I was cursed from birth. I was cursed to carry the DNA of two contradicting forces. They've blended inside me, melded as one just to create a disgusting mess of weaknesses, insecurities and existential issues. I wouldn't know where I began and they ended, what part of me even belongs to myself.

I had the misfortune to live among thieves. They stole my childhood, my sanity and now my face.

Heads turn away refusing to accept that mistakes were made. I guess I inherited that as well.

I hide away.

In moments of despairing sadness, I see my mother's lifeless smile instead of mine and in moments of rage… well. I don't like to look at that.

I wish I could see my mother's curiously intelligent mind. Or my father's sharp, observing gaze. But…

I live in a house with no mirrors because I'm afraid of what I might see this time.

I fade away.

~Me

We will breathe for the dead. They cannot suffocate all of us. Honor their legacy. Rest in Power kings and queens. ✊🏻✊🏼✊🏽✊🏾✊🏿

Wisdom is not bought, wisdom is earned.

Everyone who reblogs this will get the title of a book to read based on their bio/posts.

Everyone. I mean it.