Guilt-Free 

When I spend too long waiting, 

I lose inspiration. 

Too many thoughts flow all at once. 

.

.

Poetry is like sex to me

.

.

First thing in the morning,

before I have time to fire up my brain,

I like to fire up my heart. 

.

I use my heart to control my body. 

.

I can feel my fingers tingling 

with sweet sensation

of foreplay…

.

Waiting,

to be used. 

.

The less I think about what to do

.

the easier, better and more natural it is. 

.

I find comfort in being alone in my head,

first thing in the morning especially;

It allows me time to do what I love-

Guilt Free

.

.

Thanks for reading! If you like what you read- like, comment and follow my blog for more poetry like this 💕 Jessa

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Foreign Thoughts

I just experienced the strangest thought…

.

not strange, I suppose not.

but it was a foreign thought.

.

.

.

I thought to myself as I wrote down some prose

~maybe I should edit or censor myself

.

.

But No. 

.

.

then who would I be?

.

.

Except an ungenuine poet 

unraveling at the seams. 

.

.

❤ Glitterfly Jessa

Free Flow Thoughts- Grow caterpillar, grow

I don’t know where to begin,

feeling lost- uncomfortable in my own skin.

Sitting back and analyzing,

unable to find where I de-railed.

.

.

If I can’t find where I de-railed

how can I expect to re-rail?

.

…but do we have to start where we left off?

is it not possible,

to create and de-rail

at any time-

unbennounced to the world?

.

There is a hiatus,

a learning curve,

a gap

.

between what I was

and what I am yet to be.

.

.

I am like a fetus in the womb-

the start of something unknown

for many years after their arrival.

.

No longer an egg,

a sperm,

or an idea

but becoming…

becoming of their own self, 

before knowledge of self.

.

.

I am like a larvae in a cocoon…

past the pain of being a caterpillar-

growing past the pains of being alive

and releasing the fears rooted in survival

and giving it up to the universe.

.

I know I will emerge as I should.

.

.

In these moments of lapse,

in this hiatus of time,

something magical is brewing…

.

on the edge of

what everyone knew me to be,

what they think I will be,

and what I will become.

.

.

There is a shift in the tides.

.

Waiting,

unleashing,

resurrecting

all past,

present,

and future

aliases

of the same

me

 

Find me on medium at: https://medium.com/@JessicaLDeJesus

A Dozen Roses

Dedication to self is a noble quest 

It is not easy and there will be many deaths;

Deaths of egos and ideas of separate self,

Deaths to the shells of all that protected

the flower not quite as delicate as thought to be

but powerful, sure and unique-

with a power that is surely unique to each. 

Even in a dozen roses you will not find one the same,

each with their own stories and own perfect beauty. 

You are no different than a rose…

using thorns to protect your delicate self

and slowly blooming when the time is right. 

Do not look at your neighbor to compare the journey,

follow your idea of true self and bloom as you may