angstyambivalence

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Smoke trickles through my trembling lips. There's something burning inside.

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snippet of Ghost on my jenky ass old rickety guit

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May as well 

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Tell me you love yourself when the makeup is runny and you run your hands over your blemishes and your scars, not when your mask is on straight and you’ve fallen in love with a new costume. Tell me you love yourself when you first wake up and you look in the mirror, tell me you love the bags under your eyes and all that they carry, tell me you love every kink in your hair and every crooked tooth, tell me you love your snort and your thighs, tell me you love every ounce of flesh, every inch of severed skin, every curve, not just your feet and all the places they've carried you, not just your eyes and your ears for all the beauty you’ve seen and heard. Tell me you love yourself when you remember he doesn’t, when you wonder why he left. Tell me you’re good enough when you see him with her. Tell me you’re not lonely when you’re alone, when you stop trying to push him out from under your skin by letting any willing fool in. Tell me you’re not ok when you’re not, it’s ok to be not ok for now my dear. Tell me you believe in God when you’re staring blankly at the ceiling recalling the countless heart wrenching tragedies you saw in the news that evening, when your head is spinning on another sleepless night, when another love takes her own breath, death by her own hand, in the moments the questions won’t stop swirling in your mind, when you’re in the foreign land of emptiness, when you’re drifting through a hopeless, weary abyss. Tell me you love God after you read the history book, when you truly try to step out of your tiny existence and imagine the weight of the world, when you begin to accept your ignorance, when they tell you Eve came from Adam’s rib, Eve ate the forbidden fruit and pandora opened the box; when they tell you it’s your fault because you’re female. When we get so twisted in the words intended to prevent the rape of children and now you’re not suppose to love the way you love or who you love. Don’t just tell me you love God when you look at babies feet or when you watch the sun rise and fall. When you smell the earth after rain, when the words I love you drift from his lips like a prayer.  Don’t just say you love God because you hear your babushkas voice in your head telling you what will happen if you don’t, don’t say it at the dining room table if you can’t say it down on your knees at your bedside at the end of the night. Don’t say it out of fear, say it in tears of joy. Say you believe out of love. Better yet stop saying, start showing. Show me how you love God every single day. Show me when you dance, when you pray, when you bring coffee to the man in the street, eternal damnation bounce from his lips on repeat. Reflect the love and radiance as the earth embraces your dancing feet. The Divine lives within you, she dances with you, you who admires the sky, no matter the weather, you who sings of love and peace, you who dances in the rain, you who can remember love, even through all the pain, you who sees through fame, who refuses to play these absurd and unfair games. Show me how you love her. Show me how you love you and me, even he. Set this love free. Just be the best you can be. 

LRL