Recognizing Privilege

I think of how lucky I am just to being me

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I didn’t ask to be born but

I won the genetic lottery

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I don’t have to do much

just a little mascara, maybe some blush and now

it looks like I’m made of pixie dust

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I truly am blessed to be born in the skin I am in

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Language Barriers

Why is this how you interact with me?

Do you see me?

Do you even know me?

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The kind words that go unspoken

leave my heart longing

for recognition.

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It pains me to not hear

what I know you feel.

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When you give me things

it’s not the same

as when you spend

time with me.

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I see you talking your own language-

keeping the house clean,

cooking dinner for me,

and keeping the cats alive.

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I see these things but

they are not deeply felt in my heart.

It’s because my own predisposition to love.

.

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The way you speak to me,

of love and comfort,

of companionship and loyalty,

of trust and faith…

with actions of love,

does not resonate as well

as when spoken in my own language.

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But slowly I am learning yours

so I can feel love

and speak to you how you understand.

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❤ Glitterfly Jessa

Thanks for reading!

Depression’s Trophy Wife

Depression doesn’t always look like depression.

~you know, those standardized images of people sad and crying unable to leave bed all day…

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but the anxious thoughts of worthlessness,

the irritable grumbles that come too quick,

the desire to binge and the desire to purge,

the inability to concentrate on interesting things,

the loss of appetite,

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the decline of emotions

typically shown as

a loss of interest in friends,

family,

food,

anything that once brought happy.

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Those are still the face of depression,

just hiding a little better.

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Thanks for reading!

If you liked this please feel free to share and come follow me: here on the sidebar (or below if you’re mobile) and on medium: https://medium.com/@JessicaLDeJesus and facebook.com/hempmyheart

❤ Jessa

love remains in a different way. (Time Capsule)

The nostalgia pains…

but I don’t wish it was the same~

 

I don’t miss me with you

or the things we used to do;

I don’t miss you or who we used to be,

 

I miss the way you used to spend time with me~

 

and I miss that familiar spot in my heart

that was first shown to you alone.

 

I feel that warm familiarity

shrinking as my new love,

my sometimes only love…

opens even more of my heart.

 

I’ve made the right choice with my heart

but it’s hard to process

when our relationship never finished it’s start.

 

I wish every relationship was

a start to finish whole lifetime.

 

Life would be much more wholesome.

 

~a song, a location, a stir in the winds

can all bring your heart back to me.

 

The moments we shared are

a perfect and precious eternity

locked in a capsule of time.

What we had was perfect…

 

would it have continued so if we never stopped?

As fate has it, probably not.

 

Alas, I’m on my new journey.

A new capsule of time

that shall allow me to explore in greater depth.

 

❤ Jessa

 

*this poem is about feeling the pang of nostalgia for what we once had and loved. when we feel nostalgia though, we do not have to act on it or even be actively missing someone. we can simply miss and long for those precious moments shared. those moments that forever remain untainted and perfect because they are an unchanging part of the past. forever locked in perfect memory.

oh to be able to re-watch my life…

Guilt-Free 

When I spend too long waiting, 

I lose inspiration. 

Too many thoughts flow all at once. 

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Poetry is like sex to me

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First thing in the morning,

before I have time to fire up my brain,

I like to fire up my heart. 

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I use my heart to control my body. 

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I can feel my fingers tingling 

with sweet sensation

of foreplay…

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Waiting,

to be used. 

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The less I think about what to do

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the easier, better and more natural it is. 

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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

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

Foreign Thoughts

I just experienced the strangest thought…

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not strange, I suppose not.

but it was a foreign thought.

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I thought to myself as I wrote down some prose

~maybe I should edit or censor myself

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But No. 

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then who would I be?

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Except an ungenuine poet 

unraveling at the seams. 

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❤ Glitterfly Jessa

Basic building blocks

With no words left to speak,
Stressed out, crying…. Ive reached my peak.
If only overthinking compensated for lack of action
But that, is a flip-flop fraction.
Trying to maintain a sense of independence
Without it, lack of peace is tremendous.
Yet trying to take it on alone
Has left me feeling like i want to run from home
It was originally a safe place of solitude
Now its just a place to make a livelihood.
Its harder for me to see I’m where I’m meant to be
When everything is falling apart at seams.

Energy follows thoughts
If you don’t start with the right ones
You’ll never get past basic building blocks