Category: Transitional Pieces

These pieces are written as a reflection of self. On my path discovering who I am and who I want to be in life. It captures the struggle and strife. I am Vigilant Leighrick, Poetic Renegade.

Broken Open

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Still in a room,
A broken mirror reflects flawless smiles of all those that once stared before it.
Gleaming eyes looking for themselves in fragments of light.
I can’t yet see through.

Walking…
My tears and the street lights create stained glass.
Looking at memories abandoned in pictures, and the pain that is sheltered, buried, and concealed in temples.

Implicitly.

Shattered and now broken open.

I pick up the pieces with the roughest edges first.
I cut myself — countless times.

It hurts not to scream!
As a child you are taught that silence is comforting,
Explicitly a fools gold, a dastardly violence.

The blood has been contaminated with secrecy.
Life’s own mystery;
What good is the knowledge of hystori if the truth never gets told?

Exposed.
Undressing wounds
I see myself in rare form….beautiful….
Vulnerable.

This bigger picture envisioned is actually a puzzle;
we are each others pieces.
There are no borders, filters, nor frames….
Regardless not everyone fits, still you are..

Limitless…

-Leighrick

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Break Fast & Read Slow

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Break Fast & Read Slow.
This morning I sit contemplating, scrummaging through synonyms and personifications. I take a stab at exercising mediation and writing being in sync.
Once upon a time I believed that communication in relationships [i.e Family, Intimate, Friends ,etc] was farfetched. Telling one person, let alone the world how I feel? Never!That is…until I picked up a pen, maybe it was a pencil, or maybe I was sitting at the computer abusing it with my bead eyes and frolicking fingers.
Since then I have been pursing creative writing. First – I wrote with intentions of beefing up my confidence, but more importantly I found an outlet. The feeling is natural, as I began to simmer down writing became a healthier alternative for expressing myself, and the way I feel.
I have dissected every syllable and ingested every doubt. Collecting memories like recipes, and holding them close like secrets.
No longer do I believe that I am restricted to pain, sadness, tearful joy, trauma, warm love, oppression, heartbreak, etc to produce a gem. The pressure has ceased, and all these ingredients are just that.
As appetizing as it reads – surely it does not define the divine Goddess I am.
So currently I am marinating in this process of enlightenment. Soaking up the pungent frustration and tart effortlessness. I am the author of [my] cookbook; is your mind malnourished? How about some dessert for thought, the sweetest tasting intellect served on a platinum incrusted paper plate.
Thus allowing you to savor every simile, break down every syllable, and extract every nutrient from my light, and let the imagery melt in your hand and mouth, this is what love tastes like.

Bon Appétit !,
– Vigilant Leighrick, Poetic Renegade.

Who Needs Sleep?

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Instead of sleeping I think.
Conversing with my Conscience.
rekindling memories and setting ablaze doubts.
I am the smile and the frown, together
Shaping beauty.
Jaded compliments, opening old wounds
Tho deceptive as the skin may be,
The density of my bones, upholds a heavy spirit.
A paradox.
It beams light, and eases darkness.
Breaching the infrastructure of this tale, it’s growing
Rooted so far down the sky becomes the ground, and
My solar plexus houses the blueprints of galaxies.
Invisible to looking eyes.
Tap into the 3rd frequency, and see
Wisdom is heard in the whispers.
Instead of sleeping I think.
Imagining my own colors,
Sanding a frame of sizable impression for masterpieces.
Empathy is kept safe in the right atrium’s, saving what’s left for the ventricles.
I found love on a two way street,
Sitting at the crossroads.
Lotus Pose.
Unlocking the gift to
Be.
Willing…
Knowingly….
Instead of sleeping, I think.

-Leighrick

Please Don’t Catch Me

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Placing my heart in his hands,  he embrace it.

Trying to describe falling in love with him, is like describing colors to the blind.

My heart has finally realized what my head has known all this time..

He Loves Me.

He looks into me, my eyes feeding his ego..

I mean

I catch myself being so deep,

that I can see the reflection of my smile taking the shape of his soul.

He Loves Me.

This is how I express my love to you —

Descriptions of him taken by every pleasurable adjective

I can try  to further elaborate my feelings…

But I begin to make up words..

He heals me.

I fell so hard into this hole we’ve dug, that we know we can never stop falling.

It’s not  just one thing, or somethings, its everything.

He is my everything, a gifted by his presence everyday?

He kisses me, I inhale his seconds of breath.

I sink into his mouth

He ingests my every reflex,

Dreams have become a tease,  cravings and wishes of you here,

have been replaced with the warmth and realness of your skin.

Love is an endless battle, he fights for me.

I’ve fallen for all that which my warrior defends.

His love for me,

but

I cant sleep, if I do I dream about you…and when I dream, I cant sleep…

Its too hard to be without you..

I whisper in your ear the depths ecstasy, I long for you to see.

I wish I could lay my head on your chest, allowing you to be all I need…

Suddenly,

He holds me.

In the still of the night.

I am restless.

He places me on top of him, and I fall asleep

to the rhythm of his heartbeats.

Even a thousand miles away,

He loves me.

Unconditionally.

Even with a heart of gold is my talk still cheap?

Music isn’t soothing to me.

This page is comforting my spirit, but my body is still lonely,

I miss you…

My pen strokes illustrate your energy.

I begin to float towards him.

Hijacking the wings of hopes and prayers to get to you, any way I can.

If I make my wish, will you still grant it?

The shooting star heading exactly in the direction I want…

But I’m taking my time with him…

Everything about him makes me want to exceed all boundaries.

Surpassing our present reality;

Moving mountains, Throwing rain…

His body as my promise land,

His heart as my home.

I LOVE HIM.

-Leighrick

Dear Diary

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Trying to emulate an open book.I lay here a diary, waiting to be broken open.
Longing to have my stories leap into someones hands and be embraced –
Instead of hidden.
Recovering old memories, chasing bubbles with siblings and cousins.
My grandparents grass was so green,
All the other sides surrounding were concrete.
Love couldn’t get much better than this.
Sneaking sips of Caprisuns,
“Just reuse the straw”
“I saw another box under the table”
“Great!”
“They shouldn’t miss this one.”

Turn the page and feel my emotions get bullied by words, said by people
I wish I never heard.
Now you’ve met them, and
We share something in common.
Sensitive like the t.v. antenna in the living room.

Trying to emulate an open book.
My house is like a library.
Several books, but even more stories.
I lay here a diary, waiting to be broken open.
Longing for someone to tease death, because they know if they read it,
I’l kill em !
Only to have my words revive their spirit.
I never told them I could write.
I never told them they taught me how.

You’ve skipped pages towards the end,Anxious to see how I turned out.

You left the pages with stains from my heart – faced down.
Discovering my smile in every caricature I draw,
trying to mask my normal frown.
I remember laughing until I cried,
And crying until no one new the difference.
Until it all came alive, and
you realize most of my life have been served through sentences.

The Notebook –You’ve read plenty of love stories and letters.
Every time you see a picture of a broken heart,
You can smell the tears on the page.
Then you come across a hotel I drew to house all of my mistakes,
with extra closet space, just in case my skeletons try to escape.

You can’t feel your body.
Reading these words seem to articulate my fate.
Trying to emulate an open book.
I lie here like a diary, with stories repeated and untold.
Bold truth and white lies.

I can’t be individual by myself.
There’s so many characters in this book;
which story will you choose from?
The author doesn’t change, only the interpretations.

-Leighrick

Curiosity Misery’s Company (09-11-09)

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My misery’s curiosity still lies behind these walls.

The yelling and the screaming continues to echo throughout the hallways.

That’s all I’m able to hear.

I don’t think I need glasses anymore, because now I can see straight through people.

Time must be moving quickly, because I feel my hair graying,

My heart aches from the stitches, that aren’t even really mending it back together, there only for show.

My souls still searching for the answers, and the souls of the rest of the lost ones.

They took a piece of me, He snatched the peace from around my neck.

I can only guess my audience is aware of the dramatic irony.

Damn, its been 10 months, and I still cant understand.

The dust has been settled, it has been swept under the rug, but even still this hasn’t become clean to me.

The feelings still linger this just isn’t the place for me to be,

a house is not a home, but I’m just trynna figure out where I’m supposed to be.

Double standards, insecurities, lies, and religion – eventually will become the death of me.

Why did she stop Goliaths hand, what would J–, never mind.

What would you have done in my situation?

He PUSHED and I prayed and still nothing happened.

 Kisses on my forehead could never erase this memory.

I’m just glad to know that I got some people here for me.

I thought it was snowing in hell, when I saw who caused my cell phone to ring.

And now I’m sitting here staring at the ceiling.

 I am Lonely.

 I’m confined to this room, I don’t want to step outside because I feel them watching me.

Cant close my eyes because my brain projects the incident repeatedly upon my eye lids.

I can’t sleep…

My stomachs in pain — I can’t eat...

I won’t drink.

I cant think — without hurting & dropping tears left and right.

After this, I don’t think I have any fears, I only live everyday knowing ..

 Fact: People aren’t obligated to you love you.

  -The End.

 –Leighrick

Welcome Depression Addicts

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Welcome…

I do not have dreams. I have a large potraits of reality, everynight, and the next morning it all comes true. I am staring into a black screen, with nothing but frustration running through my mind. It’s begun to tire out my mind, and testing my feelings. Struggling to find the diamond in the rough, except diamonds are oh so cold, and I’m warm blooded. How would the ring fit around my heart? The beats steady pumping, my emotions are getting pimped, my thoughts are getting trampled, and the tears run down my lip.

Open Lab — let them operate on the chaos, putting together the pieces of Lady Chaot!c, and some touches of nuclear spit. The life I lead is unsafe. It’s true misery needs company. Only my company has gone bankrupt to the depths of life’s rotting anatomy. If I die before I wake, I pray the lord my soul take, so it may be that I am a legend in Gods eyes.

With stress as the monkey on my back, unconditional love is feeding it banana’s. A volcano of sorrow has erupted. Is this such a way for a young black female to live her life? The fight for getting a decent education, but its shadow of confusion and uncontrollable exoticism is the only light. I’ll follow that with my heart instead of my mind.

That is why they call me Lady Chaotic, lyrically spiritual, but my opinions are explicit.

–Leighrick also.known.as {Chaot!c}