Skip to main content

Out of Bounds

  My boundaries that can seem to make others mad are a reflection of what I see as my self worth. It can be  hard to hurt the ones you love with brutal honesty but eye opening to know the lack there of is a crutch of codependency.

 I keep falling in and out of love with myself. I cling to those for comfort but find myself outside of my comfort zone as I slave to my loved ones every need. The hard decision of should I just let them have it or speak up and destroy everything.

 I find that some of the people that I have bonded with fall out of bound with my boundaries. It's a devastating matter at hands. I try my best not to fight the crudest part my personality. When I do I realize it's a battle of being who I am and what others want me to be.

 It feels like they want me to swallow my imperfections and at all times have my heart on my sleeve. A friend told me to be careful when people play you to close. Over loaded texts, keeping tab on your time. Seems like someone is trying to suffocate my  independence from me.

 I find myself in a funk brooding and contemplating how can I say that  I want to be alone without causing injury.  Certain ideas and principles I see as common sense don't seem too common these days. Like the idea of having space, or showing gratitude when someone lends their hand or goes out of their way. 

At the age of 24 I know that I want to be surrounded by my soul group. People who have similar perspective on how to live a purposeful life. A life that isn't revolved around finances or worldly possessions but hearts that crave understanding and thrive off of passion. I hope I find them before I reach my grave.

Comments

The Help

My BLACK IS

My black is beautiful. My black is powerful. My black is intellectual and spiritual.  My black is white, brown, green, yellow, and purple. My black Is universal; a movement to the moon.  My black is a song: a rhythmic blues. My black is strong and unapologetic. My black is love and hate tied bitterly sweet. My black is pleasurably pain. My black is momentum, my black is silently pleasant and loudly intolerable. My black is deep like blue and curvy like spoons. My black is still water and moving tides. My black is closely and remotely Beautiful.

Home

He felt like home. Like grandpa’s hugs and granny’s kisses. Like a  school bus ride home, and  evening sunsets. Like afternoon Lunch with your Best-friends. He felt like home. Arms with an instant ease of peace, chocolate lips And a grin so sweet. He felt like ice cream on a summers day. He felt like a sunshine ray , and a Shooting stars runaway. He felt like home He felt like  Twilight, New Moon, and Breaking Dawn. He was was as high as the sky  and as bright as Nebula. He felt like why have I never felt this way before? He felt like a shower after a long day at work, like back-rubs And bath bomb soap . He felt like India’s Aries “Brown skin…  I can’t tell where mines is and where yours begins”. He felt like hopes redeeming  and pains end. He felt like home. Of course felt is past tense. But it’s still memorizing to dream of who we used to be. The trauma that can Happen when direct and in-direct meet. Like I’m saying things I don’t mean Because you act a certai

No Ethnicity

By: Jasmine Hudspeth