Tag Archives: Realization

Back to the Basics

Back to the Basics

Because it seems I lost my way

Trying to make sense of cents

But poets never get cents from

Those who need to pay attention

They’d rather give up all sense of dignity

By emulating these rap artist that can’t

Even make sense of there own lives as they babble

And yet here you are listen looking like a senseless asshole

But all you can say is listen to that beat

 

Back to the basics

In the middle of my own

Journey to self enlightenment I came

To a point of confusing this dark place filled

With illusions of real friends and money

I had lost myself in a pile of bullshit

Thinking if I dig deeper I can dig my way out

But instead I end up behind bars

 

Next to another girl with a bloody nose

Where am I?

Who are the fuck are you?

When did you get here?

And when did I get here?

 

I ask myself this as I look in a mirror

So dirty I can only see a reflection of

the outline of my face.   

Symbolically this is exactly how I felt

 

Finally I seen that this is not me

This is not Candace.

Just a poser

So I beat her down.

 

Wounded and weak I

Finish her off

My mental Coup de grace

Freeing me of this abyss of ignorance.

 

Back to the basics

Walking cautiously

The city I call home.

 

On my way to making myself a better woman

But this ride, this walk, this journey is because

I am going back to me

 

I missed you did you miss me?

The simplicity of me

The one who saw beauty in the

dirtiest of Sidewalks

I said what I want not caring about what others thought

 

Back to basics

Back to me

Candace.

I’m the sarcastic

Conscious young woman with

Wisdom to give and wisdom to gain

I am on my journey back to me

 

Leighrick

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Wings Under Tailored Suits

I broke free from my chain last night. I was afraid I was going to be sad or upset, but I was more enthralled. I guess it was a sign to let go, wholeheartedly. There was little to no pain, and quiet honestly – there’s belief I snatched it off my neck unknowingly conscious.

It’s funny, I thought this one piece of jewelry defined me. I used to feel so naked and absent without it. Now, I feel released.

Interesting how that happens. Maybe because through these last two years, that was the only thing I had left. A constant reminder of how I remembered myself then. The happiness. —

I guess…I guess I finally felt the weight it had on my heart and held over my head. No longer chained, I am in search of a new piece. No longer one that tries to define me, but inspire me.

Ha!

Maybe that’s just it. I’ve been inspired. I’ve been drinking more water; in result, I have developed an astounding sense of clarity. There is something about water, the moons strength to keep pushing the waves and breeze of the beach. The Life living inside of these bodies of water, and the life it replenishes inside myself.

My mind no longer rattles thoughts but caresses them. My heart no longer beats me, but thumps to melodies of new endeavors. I no longer feel the need to chase after the truth, because I’ve realized the truth I was chasing after were lies.

Which ultimately brought me to the light. When I look in the mirror; no longer in my eyes do I see you – I see my smile wide and bright.

Tonight this caged bird is free. I ripped off the sleeves burden with my heart. I unveil my wings and fly! I’ll even sing!

Until some one grabs hold of me by a limb,

I Am FREE.

 

-Leighrick

Real Life, Still Life

Do you ever feel like your art is a person?

Every time I write a piece, I’m painting a self portrait. In the present tense or even as the third person. On the outside looking in — the pain your emerged in.

Hearing a song you never wrote like the artist is someone you grew up with. The happiness you told all your secrets to, but the sadness is holding you hostage.

I always wonder why people try to bargain with death. Its wins eventually, until there’s no one left. Selling dreams of living in clouds, Eternal luxury with no evidence; living for a better tomorrow. That promise isn’t kept.

I live like today is my last, often that’s why it seems I only care about my self.

 

Who am I kidding?!

 

I care for everyone else. My heart is a clinic, get in if you fit in, no matter the health. Sympathies nursing sorrows. Empathy injecting psychedelic morrows. Where do I go when I need love? I pull out a cool J and fill my chest like I’m getting lung transplants tomorrow.

When I’m chasing my breath, the loneliness is easier to swallow. Why does everyone want to be understood? Judgment is the mass a murderer. How could you even point your finger at my chest when you’ve never felt my soles?

Non-believers. For whom I hope on Christmas all get coal. I pack pens like heat, cause this world gets cold. Equipped qith a paper machete. Just because you scream “F– The World!” Doesn’t make you bold.

Dark minds, I meditate inhaling white lights to shine upon the spirits journey through my mind. Trying to apprehend my thoughts from the graps of confusion. There’s a hole in my mind, I guess that’s where all the memories go.

A missing piece. Trying to find a peace of mind, so if I don’t remember you, don’t be offended. That’s just called letting go…

I’m feeling more attached by a cord an some earphones. I’ve know you all my life and look how far we’ve grown, Apart.

This may be the start to a natural disaster. I put the yield sign up, and you chose to keep going. I put up some emotional roadblocks across, but you ignored the caution stories and crossed the lines. Now we’ve come to a complete stop. Feel our foundation shaking beneath us. Is this my fault because I didn’t stunt my growth? I didn’t stop the towing? I came to a fork in the road, it said “You Left ” & “Life Right”.

What else was I suppose to do besides keep going?

This piece can keep going. I’ve only finished the eyes. Those are the windows to peek through if you really want to know me.

But — I’ll finish this Self portrait later. I just wanted to paint the picture, so you could get the point of view as to why I’m struggling growing. And I bet by the time I finish this masterpiece, you still won’t be able to recognize the Real Me.

Leighrick