I’ve been strong for so long but now the weight has me crushed;
My happiness is gone thanks to the Devils touch.
It feels like something has taken over me like I’m possessed;
I saw eye to eye with my demons and now my minds oppressed.
I’m obsessed with the things that possess me the most;
I can’t escape the pain when I can’t stop thinking of the ghosts.
A whole host of things seem to be spilling out
Like I’m leaking my true feelings but I’m still unable to shout.
Days like this make me wish I could drift away,
But the game I play with my future makes me want to stay.
The future is unpredictable and that’s what is exciting
Like you can’t recite what’ll happen and life is worth fighting.
I live for the happy days with quiet days in between;
We need a balance for both so we know what true happiness truly means.
Personal Poem | The Memories part 2 | Written by: @jarfidd
After his declaration of me being his almost brings me to tears he closes his eyes, when they open he steps closer to me. Sasha grabs my hands in his pulling my body towards him, close enough I can feel the heat coming from his body.
“Isla I’m sorry, sorry for losing my temper, sorry for not being honest with you and I’m sorry that it messed things up between us so bad, but I’m not sorry for what I said. I love you and I always will, even if this is the last time I get to touch you, if it’s the last time I’ll hold your hands in mine I know that I will love you always, forever. There’s no moving on from you, there’s no one out there for me that isn’t you. So you might not be mine now or ever again but I will always be yours.”
I feel the tears leaking from my eyes, my chin trembles, the pressure in my chest presses down painfully, there is so much I want to say but I just can’t, the lump in my throat wont let me.
All of his words move through my body each one hurting more then the next, I hate to think this could be it, the last words spoken, the final touches. Without thinking I step closer to him, close enough to smell, close enough to cling.
What would yukimura/saizo and masamune/kojuro do when they realize that MC-chan has fallen in love with the other lord instead of them? Thanks dear ^_^
Yukimura would have a hard time wrapping his head around your relationship. He’s a very competitive man by nature, and the feelings he’d have for you would be strong, fierce and true, so the fact that you’ve fallen his love with is best friend would be a bitter pill to swallow. He’d probably avoid you for a while, putting all of himself into his training to try and block out the pain that gets to him whenever you’re being all cute with Saizo. Yukimura’s sadness would stay with him for a long time, but he’d still show you a brave smile and root for your happiness at the end of the day.
Heshould have seen this coming, really. After all, Yukimura is such a gentleman, treating you as if you’re made of glass; his adoration for you is so obvious, what with the way he stutters and acts like a lovesick puppy whenever you’re around, while Saizo is still the same, cheeky dick he always was. The ninja wouldn’t be surprised, but he’d be unhappy regardless. He wouldn’t bother trying to hide it either, sarcastic comments running past his lips from time to time as he sulks. He’d be merciless with his teasing - trying to make you hate him because he’d believe that would make it easier to forget you - but his eyes would shine with sadness, and every mean word that he’d send your way would feel like a stab to the heart.
I think Masamune would be the most hurt one of the bunch, mostly because he already has such difficulty understanding his feelings for you, that the sudden bitterness and pain that wash over him whenever he looks at you and Kojuro would leave him speechless. It would take him a long time to recover from being rejected by his first and only love, and he probably would not care for any other partner as much has he has cared for you, instead marrying solely for the sake of continuing his bloodline.
The thing is, if Kojuro knew that something would make Masamune happy, I believe he’d take a step back and give it up for him. It would pain him immensely - shred his heart to ribbons, but if you and his lord ended up founding comfort in each other, then Kojuro would welcome your relationship with a gentle smile. He’d push his feelings to the side and let you go without a fight, only wishing the best for the both of you. You probably wouldn’t be able to tell how upset he’d be either, and you would never even know he has loved you as well.
With the Oscars this evening, I wanted to see at least one of the nominated films today–and I’m oh so glad that I picked Hidden Figures. Within the first ten minutes, my chest was full of feelings for the women in this remarkable, true story. I freely admit that their strength, resiliance, brilliance, dignity & indomitable will had my eyes slowly leaking for a good part of the film. Yes, I quite literally cried through the whole thing, I was so proud of & moved by these Women, these astounding true to life African American Women. Surely this has to be one of the greatest stories in the tapestry of American history, and one of the greatest examples of the best of the American spirit. And these Actresses deserve every accolade I can imagine, especially Taraji P. Henson.
This is a story that EVERY American should know, and I’ll be damned disappointed but sadly, not surprised, if La La Land beats if for Best Picture; it’ll be Birdman all over again, another Hollywood fantasy about itself, which beat better films that were actually about something real, (ie: The Imitation Game); about the real triumph of the human spirit over true & historic adversity, and prejudice. And, in fact, about 2/3 of the way in, I turned to Daughter and told her it was the best movie I’ve seen since TIG (of course I had to exempt my beloved Doctor Strange–but for reasons that are deeply embedded in my heart & for which there is no arguement against!).
I am now looking forward to the Oscars tonight much more than I’d expected, just to see the luminosity that this ensemble cannot help but project, justified pride for this beautiful story & their share in bringing it to light. They’re all already winners–I’d just love to see them bring that golden statue home.
I am woman.
Painted lips and painted eyes
but underneath my black Abay
is where I hide my fists.
Hidden hips and hidden thighs
but somehow I always apologize.
Somehow sorry is always on my lips.
I am done
making myself small
cause some days I wake up and I feel bursting at the seams,
I feel like fingertips and gums are leaking blood and dreams
I am lava, I’m a flame,
and then you put me out.
I am gold and I am glitter.
I am copper, I am silver.
I am hot metal, bloom of red.
I am not some chick you can force to bed.
I am not nothing until I’m wed.
I am woman.
Words loll around my skull and tongue,
breath somehow enters, leaves my lungs -
a galaxy of bruises on my wrists.
And constellations don’t look half the same
when they’re on skin instead of sky.
Put down your weapons, put down your masculine,
put up white flags, pick up your feminine.
This isn’t mental illness.
This is about putting value on innocence.
This is about blaming victims and how they dress.
This is about equivalence.
Listen to me. This is not an apology.
This is ocean deep, this is thirty
This is rage at being “just a She”.
This is rearranging my anatomy.
This is my confession
that I’m bigger than my body.
I am pure woman-ness.
I am chaotic, I’m a mess.
I am breath-y happiness.
I am not your princess.
I am done plucking petals and asking them of my fate.
Hoping one or the other has him decide between love and hate.
He loves me, he loves me, I hope to God he loves me.
Why the hell does he love me not?
I’d rather leave that daisy to rot.
I am woman.
But when hair grows where the hair grows,
when I’m more hot blood and less red rose,
don’t chide me for my human-ness
and ask me why I’m pissed.
I am woman.
Feather like kisses drift down my chin. I groan as teeth sink into the side of my neck. Phil knows how much that drives me crazy. He sits back and looks down at me. I feel him grind his crotch against mine and I buck up slightly at the friction.
I sigh, throwing my bag onto the floor before climbing the stairs to my bedroom. Walking into my room, I smile when I see my bed, waiting for me to jump in and cuddle the covers to death.
I lay down, sighing in content as I drift off slowly.
That, of course, only lasts for a few seconds before my phone in my back pocket decides to wake me up. I groan, pulling the annoyance out of my back pocket to answer it with an attitude.
It could have been the president for all I care. “Hello to you too Miracle, had a bad day?” He asks, I sigh and rub my tired eyes.
“Worst fucking day ever, and Mother Nature is a fucking bitch.” I hiss before feeling a tear leak from my eye.
I groan in anger, Sam quietly chuckles which only makes me madder. “I’m coming over, warm the bed up for me.” He says before we say our goodbyes and hang up.
I wait for around twenty to thirty minutes and squeal when he walks into my bedroom, thank God I gave him a key - I would have left him outside if he never, fuck moving.
“Change into your pyjamas and let’s cuddle, I brought Taco Bell and your Starbucks.” He grins, placing it all down on the bedside table, along with a hand size teddy bear.
“I can’t move.” I whine, he rolls his eyes at me and grabs my pyjamas from my drawers.
“You’re lucky I love you baby girl.” He chuckles before undressing me carefully, trying not to make me move too much.
After successfully changing me like a baby, he puts If I Stay on - my favourite movie - and climbs into bed beside me. “Damn, you did warm it up didn’t you?” He laughs, kissing my temple as I lay my head on his chest.
“Just for you.” I smile, stroking his chest softly.
After a while, I hear my stomach growl in hunger. I laugh with Sam and sit up to eat my taco, Sam steals a bite or two but I don’t mind. I whine as I feel the feeling coming, I pull a funny face and wait for it before sneezing and squealing at the same time.
I squeeze my legs together and dread that feeling of sneezing whilst on your period, it truly is the worst. “Why do periods have to be such a bitch, I wish I could take it all away.” Sam sighs, pushing me back just slightly to pull my t-shirt up and kiss my stomach.
“That’s just life,” I shrug, stroking his hair before sipping my Starbucks and laying back down on his chest. “Thank you.”
“Anything for my baby girl.” He chuckles, stroking my stomach.
“This is why I fucking love you.” I groan, clinging to his side.
“And I fucking love you too baby girl.” He chuckles, kissing my head.