Mosso

Goodbye

We planted the sunflower seeds in the grave of lost souls, where our bodies were buried in the lands we were once salves and compelled to self harm never knowing the birthmark of self love, we were once so terrified for pure rain to mark our dirt with rainbow puddles.

Instead we let our selves dry down and die like Autumn leaves in the summer breeze where it rained tearfully.

The ravens found a home in our graves laughing like mocking birds at how we were so afraid to escape, If I’d allow the rays to paint my all over my gray tombstone, if I’d allowed myself to merge from beneath the ground or the love to escape my empty room would I have learnt to say goodbye to the bad old days and let the sunflowers bloom.

SEARCHING

I searched near the pines, beyond the deep blue skies, knitted in the ever green leaves, where the sun graced the trees and turned them golden bruised.

I once called to the skies kissed by omen faith right where I thought he left his hands for me to take, I reached further, tip toes, stretched higher, I saw me float, closer to a home I’ve never known, felt nor touched.

I swam near the sun I swear on my future gray hairs I thought I’d burn, turn into ashes, somehow the stars would welcome me whole and probably say ‘welcome home’, yet there I woke still in yesterday’s clothes, praying for the better unknown.

Learning to be enough

Give me time to breed new thoughts, reconstruct my fallen walls, reconnect with my God and build a better self

I’m done searching, compering, lusting, it took falling apart more times to realise my broken pieces were never intact in the first place so here I am building brick by brick, trying to be strong, to grow, glow and be free. Give me the courage to understand that I am more than just human, I may be imperfectly flawed, however I’m worthy.

Give me the strength to accept my ugly scares that once left me crippled, disfigured, self loathing and lost, I had to water parts of my self, I watered my seeds with my salty tears just to harvest my thirsty soul, to feed happiness to my heart, allow me to share my garden with you.. Isn’t it beautiful now that I am finally learning to be enough.

-Mosso

This poem is like a prayer for me and its for anyone who’s ever felt lost and did not know how to bounce back, I was trying to encourage and motivate myself when I wrote this I was practically praying to heal and I’m learning to be a better person outside and inside my body.

We tend to abuse ourselves at times and end up being our on enemies, our own victims and really everything around us is beautiful enough to encourage us all we have to do is look no matter what you going through don’t forget to look at the beautiful things you have and the beautiful things ahead waiting to be discovered.

Where was I?

I turned the most basic fabric of my own soul inside out, I became undone, I shattered, my skin melted onto the dirt beneath my feet, blended and became one with the beautiful yet merciless earth, I was the termite that denied flowers to bloom, the darkness that denied the sun room.

I plugged my own roots one by one, by one. Every night I crumbled, tearing my own woven threads, spat on the plants I planted with a dying heart with seeds covered in pained truths.

I inhaled the dulcet tunes, still succumbed to nothing, clothed in fatherless lessons and my mothers timeless love, where was I? Where was my own self love when I gave away the keys to my castle to reckless persons.

-Mosso

Beautiful Dream

Wounds they scream their pain upon my skin, My blood saws itself, scars reveal, the hurt carves deep within drying the very paint of my salty tears on my cheeks, I am the surface of the ocean, I am the wrath that waves, I am revengeful, sometimes I am a saint.

Deep within I am a beauty, I am the sea, I am the sacred curse overflowing with greed, I grieve, struggling to breath. Help me breed, grow my roots turn them into apple trees, not for Adam nor Eve, just for me. I’d love you fiercely till infinity, water your seeds, harvest the weed, plug the dying leaves, success may bloom.

The world is dying, but so are we, society turned your soul unfree before adolescence chained your mind into command, a prisoner to puberty’s remiss. Bathe all your fears away, insecurities away in my water, my innocence and praise.

I am the prayer, I am the dream, I am the spark floating with ease, sometimes calm, always free. Tides purge, my voice echoes violently demanding release, emotions dancing in ocean rooms, expressing sorrowful blues, deeper in the wild waters higher senses… I am a Beautiful Dream.

-Mosso