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The Great Fall

Once it was a beacon of light,

This shining hill dressed as a white knight.

Now it only brings hate,

Laying prone on the ground, and heavy as a freight.

I find myself mystified,

maybe naive, and wide-eyed as a victorian bride.

How far did we backslide?

When did I lose my greatest ally?

The contradictions are clear,

yet we still clamor and believe all because of fear.

I stand here,

Waiting, helpless, praying that you’ll appear.

Isn’t that right dear?

Won’t you loan me a few of your tears?

You see I’ve ran out,

When humanity chose the coward’s way and took the bailout.

There are no rebels here.

They lament, yet still adhere.

It’s troubling to see this clear!

Maybe it’s too soon,

Maybe it’s too late,

But soon you’ll see the weight,

compliances that morphed into mandates.

-N

The Inner Thoughts

I don’t think anyone really knows me.

I put on so many different faces, Sometimes I can’t even tell that it’s me.

I wish someone would give me a momentary peace.

I have so many thoughts,

Some troubling you see.

Are we just pretending?

Fitting in a world that seems never-ending?

Should I rip off the mask and let everyone see.

The true me?

Do I even know her?

Or was she crafted from months of taking on another persona?

-N

A Styleless Style

I was confused as to what it means to write poetry.

Schools used to tell me what the definition meant,

I tried to follow their guidelines, but it wasn’t for me.

I just had to be.

I was hesitant to write about what I really see,

things concerned with strife.

I thought I had a handle on what it means to write poetry.

To always be introspective, and allow the audience to see the deepness in you.

The raw, the honest, may come off as too brutal,

Too much.

Until Friday.

Until yesterday.

Until today.

I went to my local library and immersed myself in the works of Solmaz Sharif,

Jenny Xie, and Carmen Gimenez Smith. I smiled when my hands ghosted across Maya Angelou, and sighed when I saw the well-loved and worn books of Lord Byron.

Each style was unique.

It was uniform in the fact that it had no uniform.

I loved being squeezed between the old bookshelves.

They were free of scorn.

-N

Make Love, Not War

You know, I’ve been hesitant to speak on anything related to the vaccine. Most of my friends know that I am not taking the vaccine. I have done extensive research (on both sides) and have come to the conclusion that it is not for me.


I am a thirty-one-year-old black woman who is capable of making my own decisions. My choice is not in any way influenced by my parents or family because I know family members (on my mom and dad’s side) who have gotten the shot and they are fine, still living their everyday lives.


The only reason I am even writing this is because I am absolutely appalled at the lack of tolerance and childlike pettiness I have seen from vaccinated individuals. I can’t speak for others but I am healthy. And I’m blessed because my father, mother as sister are as well.


I have always taken care of my body (pre-covid pandemic era) because being from San Francisco Bay Area (most millennial kids who had hippie parents will understand lol) you learn early on about healthy homeopathic ways to treat the body. Ever since I was a little girl my mother has always taken the natural way to treat my sister and I so what I am doing is nothing new to anyone who really knows me.


God has also blessed me with a career as a full-time educator and writer online that does not require me to be in-person and vaccinated so I understand those who took the vaccine for their own careers.


But back to the vax vs. the unvax.


In school, all I heard growing up was how it was important to respect others and their decisions.
In California especially I used to see Coexist and practice peace and tolerance all through the state.

If you choose to not get the vaccine you will not get any hate from me. But if you do get the vaccine you will not receive any hate from me. You did what was best for you and your life.
I don’t wish ill on any sides.

I am not writing this post to try and convince you to not get the shot. As a capable, educated adult (which most of my friends are on all my social media accounts 😊) you made the decision that was best for you based on the information that you compiled.

This is a safe space here. And I want both sides to know that you have a friend in me.
I love you all,

-Nikki

And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. -Philippians 4:6-7 KJV

Gemini

I’m caught within time.

I’m caught between two lives.

The face I portray to the world, and you.

The face I give when it’s just me.

When I look in the mirror.

I’m afraid.

That you won’t like what I have to say.

That you won’t like what I feel.

That you may find me too sensitive or to passionate.

That I may not be enough.

Of course I could mold for you.

See the instant dislike and become whoever you desire.

But I fear I may lose my heart in the process.

I fear.

I fear.

I fear.

-N

Love, Undefined

Hello everyone!

I’m sorry that I’ve been M.I.A. My grad work has picked up, and I’ve also been writing the sequel to my romance book. But, I have some good news. I have released a new book! Today! This one is just a small book of poems, and I’m more nervous about this one than any other work. Maybe because it’s not fiction. I mean, it’s thoughts, and feelings, and it’s more of who I am than a romance novel. I’m wondering if any of you feel this way? That you can write anything, except when it’s about you?

No? Just me?

Anyway, if you want to read something interesting, (LOL) and support an indie author, then click the link below. If you find yourself overwhelmed with the poems, then be kind and leave a review. I love you all, and I hope to be back up here tonight with some more stuff.

-N

Love, Undefined: https://amzn.to/2LsLvq8

True Love


I was down today.

I didn’t have much to say.

In all actuality I had thoughts,

But I fear my truth will keep me caught.

So I pretend, and in a way become brought.

I stayed tied in knots.

I was at the point of depression.

Caught in the confession of my accession to my oppression,

When I received relief that came as a sweet, cool decompression,

I was in this wonderful feeling of refreshen.

My comfort comes in words.

In the feelings they bring.

Of that life-changing comfort that causes one to sing.

Such a perfect thing.

A kindred spirit is hard to find,

That is why I’m here to remind,

And make sure that you’ll be kind,

To my love affair,

That I’ll swear without fanfare,

With words.

There’s No Oxygen In The Room

No one understands me.
I’m pretending.

I’m not sure who I am.

I’m not sure you’ll like who you really see.

I’m not sure I can freely be me.

My heart hurts.

My chest burns.

I have no relief.

I can’t seem to see straight.

The weight of the world is on my shoulders.

I have no relief.

I can’t tell the truth.

It won’t set me free.

My body is tired.

I know no other option.

I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I don’t know what I hope to accomplish with this.

Maybe my pain can give someone else comfort.

A moment of bliss.

My truth is I cannot tell it.

I hate myself.

I hate my thoughts.

My wants, and desires, and hope,

It’s been stripped from me.

Yet I have to be strong.

Always strong.

I cry at night and in the dark.

So that in the day I’m light and full of false snark.

 

-NR

Une Muse Invisible

You left me for a while.

But you came back.

Moving like a runningback.

I have no slack.

I can’t believe what you’ve made me feel.

What I’ve written,

What you’ve made me do.

I still haven’t truly processed what you’ve made me do.

My heart was broken.

I want you in too many ways.

I can’t say no though.

It’s not good for me.

This is a drug.

But I have to take another hit.

Just once more.

Then I promise I’ll go.

Promets juste que tu-

-NR