Someone Told Me Not To Post This.

July 11, 2015.. The day my transition and transformation began. The sleepless nights didn’t kill me. The abandonment didn’t kill me. The abuse didn’t kill me. The rapes didn’t kill me. My attempted murderer didn’t kill me. Depression, anxiety, and (ptsd) didn’t kill me. Fear mongers didn’t kill me. Lack of love and self love did not kill me. 

I decided to stop suppressing myself. I decided to stop making myself unhappy to make others comfortable because they sure wouldn’t do the same. I became my own support, my own cheerleader, my own love interest (Yes, it’s possible without perversion). And once I made those changes, I felt and saw the support and love flood into my life from every corner, The Sky as well as every grain of soil. Finally, I openly followed my intuition which has NEVER BEEN WRONG. I will always stay with my gut instinct and intuition before anyone’s word. I’m sharing this because I know there are more people out here who have been through this (and more). 

And you still haven’t let go. Fear holds us back. It’s a type of slavery you can’t easily see, nor are most prepared to acknowledge. The worst part about this is that there are children who are taught that they do not matter, that they aren’t loved, they aren’t worthy, and they should be silent. Then as they grow older they are left in pieces to clean up the destruction that was bestowed upon them. Every excuse is made in this world to make them slaves, to break their spirit. I went from local churches growing up, to NOMA, and Waymaker ministries to help change things. But I had to start with myself. The summer of 2015 was the evening that I fell high, reborn.

If you didn’t know, you are needed. You are worthy, you are loved. Please love yourself. #AllIsABlessing #LoveYourself

From,

Phoenix (Keota)

black water photo

sunrise photo

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True Metal, Real Gold.


​Moon phases

Strong vibes resonating

Between the bricks and trees

Melodies married as one

The Den connected friends

Spirits on a whim

5 6 7 8 and then

A pact was born

Smiles laughter and passion

Beyond labels and judgement

Humans


Owl of the South

Where Is…

Claws to the scalp

I need your hold

Life’s elixir

I give it back

I want your bones

Where is my Wolf? 

The love we mate

It’s been far too long

Famished

Shouldn’t I devour you?

Parched

Pour your brew

Your skin is in my head

Tears down my face

I swear I’d claw you

Around trees I wait

Impatiently

Frustratingly

And everything aches 

Come

Let us feed

Once more

The love we mate

Poem by Seraphine

photography by E. J. Bellocq

Open Facades (I)

Everything is so beautiful now. I had a taste of myself. I embraced potential. I owned up to strength. Everything is so beautiful now. My trials were heaven sent. Death stood at my door- warned me thrice. Slicing away verboten habits. Self harm with a few cups of disrespect- down it burned black to ash. I will not reject myself. I will not reject myself. I will not reject myself. The she in me ripped my ribs apart. It had to happen. I kept fighting. I lost. I lost it all for me.
Call Me Phoenix

Dancing

The Daily Post – Dancing

May I please have a beat? Just a few of your honesty. And may I please rest my feet on our rocky start laid in front of me. Did you get my message? I left it there in a back bend of emotions. A literal back bend I gave you. One you held without devotion. Back then I wondered how could we make it to the stage. How could I dance with you while unlaced? Where will we go to find our justice? And what if I take a bow to your untruths. What if I dance with some one else? And what if we dance as I dance with you?

I enjoy the cologne of an alpha’s unrest. I enjoy the pounding of hearts out of dress. Here I am, toes on a cold floor as I come down on bended knees. I am happy that I danced with you. I am happy that I was imperfectly me. 

Owl

I’m an INFJ and…

I’m finding it hard to express my happiness at the moment. In fact, my main reason for starting this blog is to teach myself how to better express myself. Only recently have I been able to somewhat express grief, anger, and depression. I’m not all doom and gloom, you know. But I feel as though I haven’t found the correct words to express my happiness. Well… for one, I shouldn’t look for the politically correct words or otherwise to express my happiness. I should just let the pen flow. Why can’t I just let the pen flow


Let the pen flow to the weirdest dreams

It will reveal those wild beings

Just let it write to the rhythm of the sea

And watch as your hopes become a reality

Keep your pen free to express extremes

Brave minds will gravitate to your everything

Release the cap and let it breathe

The pressure leaks in clear streams

Let go of ink to line it’s pleasure

Bury your chest to expose each measure

Give it your spirit and Your heart with each letter

Let your pen flow to your chaos and serene

From Me to You

Keota P

(P.s. I think Edgar Allan Poe was in my head or something. Whew!)