Her: will I write? (THIS TREE)

I want to wish again for this tree, I told the full moon
May she find new nutrients in the soil where she’s planted
Despite the wretchedness-filled environment she’s grown.

I gaze upon the sky where swelling clouds are gathered around
I pray for its rain to fall in great abundance so this tree will know
Care and forbearance.

This tree reminds me of you
Nude in spirit; barren in skin
As though Love has forgotten the ways to bloom to give life
To a new tree; to a new you.

Your heart is like this tree
Only existing by the wayside
Unattended by others
Just growing but doesn’t really know her life’s purpose
Whether to bloom or to give fruits
To purify air or to just stand as a decorative on display.

Nobody sees your superficial beauty
Be that of loneliness or your quiet struggle
Never knowing when the beckoning of life will come to pass
Or if by meeting the harbinger of death can ever be lesser than cruel.

I ask the full moon if your trunk can make smoldering embers reach until daybreak when burned
Or will it die down at the instant blow of the summer wind. (?)

I wish for your heart’s tree to grow leaves; to fall in love again
The kind of wish that’s deeply spoken only in the midnight hour
Secret wishes of the heart to fall again, to know again; to taste Love again.

I wish for you to know blush once more
The kind of blush that stirs your stomach with sweet consistency
I want those butterflies to teach you laughter again, joy in your midst
I wish for your heart’s tree to wish for our long awaited reconciliation
Allowing us to grow fully, bloom gracefully; intricately.

May this renewal call us back into a loving embrace to kiss every false starts away
I wish for your eyes to see passion the right way; the slow burning kind
So no pitfalls can ever tremor your depths.

I wish to hear the voice of my Dearest Love
That sends a thousand jolly notes jumping into my eardrums
Whispering through, “Please drink of me.”
I wish for you to fall in love again
To have someone hold you in her arms; a safe place for your dying soul.

So take what you need and gather the sage
Let its smoke send this wish, a prayer and my comfort to your heart’s barren tree.


(Today’s writing prompts/inspirations)

Her: will I write? My Dark Art

Part of me is not afraid to look at the dark side of the moon
You may think otherwise
Believing all the lies that your boxed brain can only ever produce
It’s not your fault, I know
But sometimes, your sense of lack, hostility and your “wisdom less” knowledge become detrimental in the creation of all sorts of conflict and chaos between people and relationships.

I have sat on the dark side
I watched myself die an ego death
I went to a dark night of the soul
It was never easy but I got through them all because
I’m not scared to do some “quiet introspection”
To go within myself as deep as the Marianas Trench.
I don’t do witchy stuff, don’t get me wrong
But when you see me so drain and weak
It’s when my healing energies are being sucked out of me by people who only wanted to soak in this Divine blessing
They are energy vampires who spread toxicity everywhere
Who thrives by getting close to people with a rare type of Light.

So next time, when I say dark Art, don’t confuse yourself and make needless assumptions.
I’m not a magician with magic tricks here.
No. I never sold my soul to the devil.
This is for your education, so listen intently.

Dark Art for me are all the write ups that I wrote having sorrowful, painful tones and moods. It’s when I talk about heartbreaks, loneliness, discord, abuse or the wretchedness in humanity.

These are what I produce when I’m left by myself; alone at home. This is what I have to deal with on a regular basis.
All of these energies, not my own
But from people, strangers in particular, they come at me like waves, frequencies, energetic downloads, colorful lights so random, so sudden, so fast.
I feel other people’s pain, regrets, betrayals, their struggles, their mental stress, their lies and their cries intrusively.
I call this a highly developed intuition.

What I gather intuitively becomes the content of my writings. I call it dark Art because it’s such a heavy load of negative energies that I needed to channel through writing or else, it would stay with me all day making me feel sick and tired, in depressive state sometimes for days and utmost, for years. I suffer the consequences in the end.

You may say, I have cool psychic abilities. Having some superpowers, that it’s all hunky dory to me along with those other fluffy stuff …oh well, I’ve told myself the same. But there’s nothing cute about it at all. It weighs me down so much. I can’t even protect myself against it.
Though I give out healing energies to the world but only God knows, how mess up this can get when I’m on this journey.

So please don’t be like the others who speak but only in ignorance. Them with their moronic point of view can really hurt as hell.
Overtime, I develop my skills because I have to over extend myself in order to protect myself from these physical, emotional, mental, spiritual and social vermin.

Oh please you don’t have to be empathetic or pretend that you understand.
Like I’ve said, I’m highly intuitive. I just know.

What I’d like from you:

Please educate yourself at least in order to reduce all the hate that I and the others get from your filthy plates.

Much love and ease,

Her: will I write? (Pick Me)

Pick Me. I’m a beautiful flower too.
Pick me. I can give you a nice view too.
Pick me. I’m low maintenance too.
Pick me. I’m great for shop displays and for gifting too.
Pick me. I’ll be of great use to you too.
Pick me. My oil can be your perfume too.
Pick me. My petals can be dried up too.
Pick me. I’m good as new too.
Pick me. I’m fresh like the morning dew too.
Pick me. I can make you smile too.
Pick me. I am colorful too.
Pick me. I can never hurt you too.
Pick me. I can be wild too.
Pick me. I’m a rare kind too.
Pick me. I can stay with you too.
Pick me. I have sweet nectar too.
Pick me. I am bright and symbolic too.
Pick me. I can die for you too.
Pick me. I’ll be with you in death too.
Please pick me. I’ll be that flower in your funeral too.
I can be with you forever if you can pick me too.

Pick me too.

Her: will I write? (I Believe)

I believe in things, in people.
I believe in myself, in God who’s The Greatest.
I believe in being good, in other people’s goodness
I believe even if it’s easy for others to be cynical, skeptical and, hyper-rational
In everything.

To some it’s a risk, it makes me stupid
But I’m about to tell them, well,
I’ve got crazy dreams and stupid chances
And I risk them all not because I’m stupid but because of my
Strong belief that life is my oyster.
Treasures are found not because they are revealed.
They are found because someone believes and searches for them
The same way, they become real because someone believes that what they’ve found are treasures and that, they are treasures of high value
For nothing is set in motion when no one believes
When one believes, one works hard to earn it
When one has earned it, everyone celebrates
When everyone celebrates, some get jealous they separate
Yes. It is what it is. Such is life.

Love I believe is one of the most prized treasures
A lot may find but very few get to keep it
And it’s not a curse but is one of life’s mysteries
When love arrives, we doubt and dismiss
When love arrives, we don’t believe
When love arrives, we think it’s something else
When love arrives, we confuse ourselves
We forget that love has come, it’s here, and we welcome it.
Instead, love has come, we let it go and we take something or someone else.

And I know you and I have our own shoes to fit into
We have our shells to crack out
We have boxes we get ourselves into
We have lives we hide away
Or stories that we never let others read fully
In this life, we think more of existing rather than living
Yet it’s all we can do and nothing else, is what you’d say.

So it takes a lot of courage to be different
To think differently and be differential
I believe I’m not afraid of losing
Not too frightened of the endings
It’s because I’m not scared of having new beginnings
And all these don’t matter, you need not tell me
I just know because this is my belief.
We can agree to disagree here but I’m putting it out nonetheless
I take risks in what I believe in
I believe I have eyes set on the prize
And my actions are geared towards greater heights
I win, I lose
I succeed, I fail
I live or die
It’s God’s will not mine
But I experience more, I learn some lessons
So I dust my butt off ready to start over
Maybe I’m a fool, or a little bit wiser

That’s why I’m here, is what I’m saying.

Her: will I write? (Talk To Me)

Talk to me like an old friend
I can be that friend
I can take on a different role to suit your needs
We can be casual or formal
I’ll give you that emotional choice if you want.

But talk to me
Let me know

Don’t wait around too much
If you desire to, I’m here.
I’m open. I’m waiting.
Talk to me
I’m not strict in terms of the subject
But it’s important for me that you communicate
For after all, I’m just a woman without psychic powers
And being a magician only happened to me in my dreams
Last night.
Although I’m highly intuitive
But between what I already know and don’t know
I’d still prefer an honest revelation from you
And you might ask, why?
Oh Dear.
Have you forgotten how the foundations of the world was made?
When God said, “Let there be light.”
Indeed light came about.
When He said, “Let’s make man in our image and likeness.”
Indeed, man came to be in His image and likeness.
And we can skip the entire process however, this I tell you-

There’s power in utterance.
There’s power in your words.
Words can speak life.

So you can stop worrying about the details.

You can lock away your fears
You can store your doubts in a time capsule
You can keep all the negatives if you want it hidden

I can wait until you are ready to introduce them
One by one
In slow music, small steps or in a spectacular presentation

You can call the shots.
I don’t mind the ways.

But I do mind an honest and clear communication
As I don’t want to misunderstand, misinterpret or misrepresent
And I know that you are shy and perhaps you feel that I’m out of your league

But like I’ve said, I’m only great once you put me up on a pedestal
I become ordinary as soon as your magic wears off
Immediately, I’ll be sitting next you.
Just let me know.

Talk to me
Without the rituals
Or any lofty public ceremonials.

Talk to me
From zero to hero
No excuses, just moments of you with me.

Of course, this goes both ways
Doesn’t matter who comes forward first or last
There’s no one to compare
We are in no competition
I’m not aware of the literal mind games
Be assured that I play no tricks
I hold no threats
I’m prone to errors and mistakes
I’m imperfect in absolute ways
But I have days when I’m perfect
It’s when you think that I am.

Me and you
You and me
Real time
I know lovers and friends do this
Even foes respect this

I need to know what’s on your mind
It might feel good to be your Kryptonite
But I don’t wish to be my Hero’s demise.

Come to me.
Ask me
Even if the timing isn’t right
We can compromise
There’s no one way
It’s not my way or the highway
Talk to me
You’ll see
We’ll be fine.

We can hold that emotional space.
Just say the word
And I’ll be on my way to that sacred place.

Her: will I write? (Woman)

Woman, where do you go when you’re shaken by doubt?
Do you turn to cigarettes and tobacco for an aromatic air?
Do they calm you? Release you from the shackles that grip you?

Woman, who do you welcome at home when you’re cold and lonely?
Is it a sweet homeless dog or an unknown reckless stranger?
Does he give you the warm comfort of emotional stability? Does he tell you to forget your past and just burn the night with him? Does he devour you and make you lose yourself underneath the silk sheet? Does he tell you he loves you? Does he give you the rainbow? Does he throw you his life vest so you can live? Or does he jump off to a spare boat first even before the captain calls to abandon the ship?

Woman, where do you place your ears? Do you place them in your heart to listen to your soul’s rhythm? Or do you place them in your friends mouths for their self-indulgent whispers disguised as words of wisdom? Do they tell you they are your solid rock? So rock solid that they don’t break on shaky grounds or sink into a real quicksand? Really?

Woman, who do you give credit for your charm and self-confidence? Is it the bottles of cold beer, Black Hennessy and the frenzy night clubbing? Do they make you stand proud; make you feel well-supported? Do your friends warn you of your wasted demeanor or do they clap their hands when you’re dirty dancing? Do they raise you up when you crawl to the kitchen toilet to puke or do they leave you with other men to care for you? Do they cover your nudity against the eyes of evil men? Or, do they make you hide in an icy cold freezer?

Woman, why do you look so down so troubled? Has anyone torn your grit and made you bow down in fear? Will you grab a fancy wine and drown yourself in the bathtub like a pathetic calendar beauty?

Woman, who got your tongue-twisted that you stopped speaking for the truth, justice and power? Will you hide your tail like a guilty sinner or will you hunt these witches for dinner?

Woman, whose home do you knock to look for a good rest and a new beginning? Is it God’s mighty and glorious wings? Or is it The Devil’s floating and glaring sand castle?

Woman, are you really not enough? So fragile and weak? Low and meek? Is your life a cheap giveaway that everyone can just grab or put on display? Are you so insignificant to be preyed on by deceitful snakes and starved greyhounds?

Now woman, tell me!

Who do you say you are?

Her: will I write? (Delicate Flower)

You are such a delicate flower
With a color so fair like silk
Heat waves make you delicate; you wilt and fall with ease.
My delicate flower I want to feel your depth
I want your icy breath
Mighty and splendor at night to my candor.

My delicate flower; my muse
Can we love like babies who are yet to learn how to crawl?
Pure yet amorous like a raving lunatic
My delicate flower; a radiating beauty you are
You have an allure so pristine; so tranquil

Let me take you to the coast where no other flowers bloom but your beauty alone
Let me dance with you in the cold waters of the sea
Twirl around your long and strong arms
Hold my beauty in your palms
And lovingly gaze at it with your charming smile like a delicate flower that one worships in both day and nighttime

My delicate flower, let me share a sweet kiss with you—
Until the morning fog clears away
Let me measure your depth and breadth as we wait for the rising sun
Tell me how soon or how late
Until your fair skin becomes sun-kissed.

Her: will I write? (Please Wait For Me)

Please wait for me.

I’ve been away, I know
But wait for me, please
Not this sunset
Or tomorrow’s sunrise
I can hardly tell you when
But wait for me, please.

Please wait for me
Even if calls or texts are as remote
as the next blood moon
Please wait for me
Selfishly, I ask of you.

Please wait for me
Even if someone else is feeding the birds, the cats and the dogs
Please wait for me even if I’m no longer around to water the plants
Hold your heart close for me
Please wait for me.

Don’t come looking for me yet please
Not anywhere, not everywhere
Don’t find me in that same old coffee shop
Don’t go asking people around for my name
Don’t dream of me even
My Sweetest Love, not yet please.

Save everything for me
All the longings, bitterness, anguish, rage, sadness, feelings of abandon, your moments of fear, self-doubt and all your irrepressible tears. You can cry foul all you want too.
I’ll take them all, I don’t mind
But I have got to be with you first
So please wait for me.

Now may not be my premiere
It might not be soon enough
I know.
I know I’m not there
I won’t be here either
I can barely tell you my whereabouts
But please wait for me.

Be intrigued instead of what you can do now
While I’m away, distantly—
Consider yourself as the happiest woman there is
Be joyful, see more sunrises, love more sunsets
Pray for a warm evening too.

Make time for yourself
My Sweetest Love, you don’t need to wilt in wait
You can bloom like the flowers in Spring
You can be the beacon of light to other drifters too
You can love the moon like I do to you for you are my silver moon.
You can gaze at the stars and pick one for your own
You can cuss the wind and write my name on a leaf
You can see the world, ride the waves and yes, you can climb mountain tops as well
Be full of vigor, be excited, be at ease, be free, be healthy, be on a journey to know yourself.
Do whatever, be whoever you want.


Please don’t wait for me like a dying champion.
Please don’t sit around waiting for Time, for me, or for the next holiday season
For you are my silver moon with so much mystic and allure.
Your beauty can affect the ocean tides
Yes. You are that impactful. So powerful.

Sure. You’ll have your moon phases too
All ugliness, all flaws, all inadequacies you keep, if they are all coming from your own, I know, you’ll have nothing but abundance in the end.

One day
Let’s meet again
Let’s talk again so you can tell me all of your adventures.

I’ll hold your hand
I’ll keep you close
I’ll cry with you too
I’ll laugh with you
I can even tell you what will be your next adventure
I’ll surprise you
I’ll be with you when you march forward.

For now
Wait for me please
Somehow please wait for me
I know that Time is as fleeting as our youth but please
Wait for me no matter the hour or the day
Neither the season nor the occasion can foretell
But please wait for me
Somehow I need you to wait for me
It’s not my time yet
It’s not our time yet

There are seasons for planting
And seasons for harvesting
There are days of loving
But there are also nights of leaving

But stay on course
Keep your fountain eyes open
Keep your heart high
Don’t falter, don’t waiver
I’ll come back
I’ll be sure to come to you
I’ll be rushing towards you

But only not at this time.

To you my Sweetest Love, please wait for me.

Her: will I write? (Who I Want To Be)

I want to be larger than Life
Yet smaller than the Lord
To be greater than the storm
Yet subtler than any fits of anger
To be as radiant as the sun
But not as glorious as the Heaven above
To soar as high as the eagle
To dive as deep as the whale
I want to be as open as a book
But not as profound as a man’s towering ideals
To be as beautiful as the universe
And as graceful as a dainty flower
I want to be stronger than the lion
But not as cunning as a fox
To be as diligent as an ant
As well as busy as a bee
I want to be as proud as the wildest tree
Yet more organic than your Instagram beauty
I want to be as charming as a nymph
To be as generous as a mermaid
But not as a deranged trickster
I want to be as shrewd as a high Priestess
But not as vulgar as your staunch stalker
To be as close to you as forever
So near to you like a lover
I want to be as mysterious as the phases of the moon
Yet as calm and as gentle as a butterfly’s transformation
To be as sweet as a nectar
As pure as a morning dew
I want to be as meek as a sheep
Yet as loud as its shepherd
To be as friendly as a dog
And as light as a feather
To be softer than a pillow
But sturdier than a cupboard
I want to be as violent as the monsoon in love
Yet as overflowing as a waterfall
To be full of love like a child
So merciful like an angel of God.
I want to be as jovial as a cat
But not as predictable as the coming season.
To be alluring as the sea
But as dangerous as a cliff
To be as dreamy as the clouds
Yet as grounded as the roots
I want to be as clear as a day
To not be as hazy as an afternoon fog
It is my pleasure to be who I want to be
But only in the eyes of the Lord who can see right through me.

Her: will I write? ( The Kind Of Broken That I know)

I’m broken on the inside—

It’s the undercurrent of fear that consumes every light that comes from me
It’s the undercurrent of anxiety that runs deeply through my body
It’s that sudden jolt of overwhelming darkness that nullifies my world of reality
It’s that surge of energetic downloads that hit me like violent waves they come to drown me
It’s that peaceful house that collapses burying me under the rubble of multiple illusions
I feel broken inside.
That I curl up in my bed for hours just waiting for my body to calm down
My restricted movement can only reach a pillow, and more pillows.
Pillows that I keep close to my body for warmth and security.

It’s the undercurrent of voices from people who tell me what’s essentially right for me
Them telling me they’ve been to the place where I have gone to myself
That they knew what to do exactly if only I wasn’t too stubborn to handle.

Many people know a lot. It seems I am the only one who’s kept in the dark so utterly useless
Worthless that I…
Have lost my appetite.

It’s the undercurrent of doubt and unlimited assumptions that keep multiplying in my head
Silently feeding my thoughts with those forgotten memories of my past life
It has killed my zest for life.

What you may have witnessed were layers of thick veils of illusions; replicating my day to day realities, projected even more so you’d think that the person in charge was still alive, healthy and happy.

The devil sits on my shoulders, my inner demons have made my body their own battlefield
Each time they strike, is a grand volume of inflicted pain that I must endure
They said what I needed was love
Oh Love.
My body has been infected, corrosive enough that I have no more space to house such love
How on earth can love be enough to fill an empty vessel, to fill a void that’s all encompassing?
How would you understand a shadow that you can only see when light’s being cast and where there’s none, it becomes unknown to man?

That’s why I am broken inside.

Such brokenness comes then disappears…
It’s not a tangible thing that you can grab and hold
Not visible for you to mark it with your healing words
It’s illusive, evasive, preemptive.

It comes instantly, it stays in seasons, then disappears painfully
Where it hurts, It would hurt
Where there’s none it hurts even more
What’s broken can’t be touched, what can’t be touched is left to waste until it gets destroyed

Healing is a wishful anticipation of something that will never ever dissipate.