Deanna Outten @deannaoutten - Tumblr Blog

It’s about loving yourself no matter which storms you undergo

It’s not about controlling the storm as you should already know

That if you love something you must let it go

The Butterfly Effect

“The flap of a butterfly’s wing in Brazil can create a tornado in Texas”; one small change can turn into something so hectic

Showing up late to the train towards your fate can change the rout in how you start to think about ways

To get to to your destination as it blocks your blessing

It goes without saying that feelings of self-doubt prolongs the lessons

Of reaching the stars and heavens

Of where the spirit sings a song

and where your mind truly belongs

Soft as Cotton

One morning while I was getting ready for school. My mother asked me to come inside of her room to comb my hair into a slick and smooth high top bun like I’d always wear. I was giving her a hard time because I was unaware of the meaning of time and the hardships of being a parent of three. It was apparent that I was hard of hearing and had a hard head to match like the costume jewelry earrings that she would spray perfume on the backs with to clear away the stench as she assumed my other classmate’s spewed rains of spit into the rings and pit of my ear, while whispering their secrets they didn’t want me to share.

However, on this particular morning as I stood next to the tan chaise that sat across from our clothed sofa chair. I chose to be a delinquent as I refused to relinquish and submit to her tactics of fear. Instead, of walking into her room to do my hair, I crossed the palm of my hand over my chest as I ignored her demands to take a stand and digress to sing, “I pledge allegiance to the flag”–– my mother used the comb to whoop my ass, as a hard head makes up for a bottom as soft as cotton. I was used to receiving whoppings quite often but this one was done just before school, as I walked on the bus with my forehead swollen and bruised. I developed a huge lump that left me dormant and confused. As I sat on the bus crying with one hand covering my wound.

When the bus finally made its last stop in front of my school. I hopped off to walk on the black cement playground with different shapes drawn-on. To find my place in the line that me and my classmates devise to wait for our teachers to take us inside. However, my eyes were still full of tears as I wept and cried, which led to an old friend of mine to walk me to see the nurse inside. So I could let out my cries and outburst about the patriotic ass whopping that I deserved. But little did I know her only purpose was to protect and serve her earnings. Until after I finished the day of learning about cursive and the well rehearsed courses endorsed by the same government forces that forced their way into the doorsteps of my home– to question my mother’s abilities of parenting alone.

When my mother received a call from my school on the phone, she was shocked and appalled by what I pulled to overthrow her disciplinary tool, as it hit her in the womb way down below the belt. She felt as though my tears were crocodile cries for help, as I volunteered to share the story behind the swelling. Ever since Difice came to question her about the welt they let me stay like the grudge she held. Till this day, my mother felt betrayed in a way that never subconsciously faded away. It left a scar and stained a mark on our parallel parked universes, as I was given away, handcuffed, and incarcerated without a key. My soul was taken by the enemy to whisper in the ear of my therapy and social work listener so they could hear my most kept secrets and mysteries just to leave and disappear like a red-seeded dandelion petal leaf floating in the air.

#writer #writing #write

In the game of love you have to come bearing with open arms

Not with guns

Be honest about who you truly are

Not with your guards up

Get rid of the poker face and show your cards

Make a compromise to leave the room in one peace

Without any bruises or scars

#write #writer #writing

Love is at war! Its what everybody's fighting for Each solider lost at shore Playing the battlefield like the four horsemen Swore on the bible to protect the unforeseen forces That drink the blood and flesh of the Devil's serpent

#writing #writer #write

The mind is a small place to live when its crowded with thoughts

There's not a lot of love to give when they all have fought

Over the last plate of ribs your mind had to spare

Because of the lack care to your self-awareness

Now your famished spirit sits and starve

While each and every last of those greedy thoughts sit around and share

The last plate of spare ribs that your mind had to spare

#writer #writing

I feel so ashamed

For all the decisions my mind has made

During times of indecisions about when I’ll receive my next piece of change

I really changed into someone else I couldn’t even recognize

-A stranger that needed help

From my own dangerous mind

I was pressed on time to survive

Trying to keep my spirits alive

But there was no “I” as “I” died

In the process of living life

I often question and wonder why

I decided to live this lie

As I sit down and cry thinking about the times

I could’ve untied

The knots from all of my karmic ties

Nickels & Dimes

Some people become a product of their environment just to survive

Not cause they wanna fit in, that’s why it’s good to be wise

Because the hood keeps you trapped in the lies, that’ll make you sacrifice your life

In exchange for nickels and dimes over a pair of dice

Have you thinking you’re living your best life way up in paradise

I’ll just have to let it be

And take the lesson that was in it for me

To finally be free from all the memories that were meant to teach me

How to release control

Of all the things my old soul can no longer hold

As the spirit guides have made it known

That I have outgrown

This moment in time

I have to have more faith and believe

But a part of me thinks I’m being too naïve

-In seeing the potential of what this could possibly be

You seem like a heaven sent dream that was brought down into reality

But it’s hard for me to keep this mind at ease

As it’s constantly in worry about being deceived

#write #writting #writer

REBIRTH VINTANGE X LOVE IS EVOL PROMO VIDEO

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Freedom is a death of the mind

It’s a release of control when your soul swims through the illusions of time

Because your heart feels whole

Despite what the mind considers what is right or what is wrong

Your spirit remains strong

No matter which direction the wind blows

The GMO female, the female that has lost touch with her femininity because she has masculated herself and abandoned her soul

She feels her insecurities and vulnerabilities has to be kept deep inside

To hide away the pain

In order to sustain

A regular life

In this mundane society

She cries her eyes when men aren’t around

And puts on a smile when they are in her presence

Because they are her competitors not her companions

She can only reveal herself in the face of other women because she believes this world would be a better place if all men were castrated or wiped away like the tears she cries to the female gods that she prays to at night

She has neglected the power of vulnerability

She has neglected the power of receptivity

She has neglected the power of standing strong in her emotions

As she would much rather stand alone & isolated on a “utopic” island amongst women of all different walks of life arguing about who will be their next president

She is a by product of the system she often finds herself battling

However she has no self-identity without having to go to war

She is manufactured, well packaged, and advertisable because if she would ever be anything less

She would be condemned by the men that she allows to live within the island of her own mind

A Trip Down Memory Lane

The guilt weighs heavy on top of my broad shoulders

Like a heavy coat in the dead of Winter

Bringing my spirits down

Memory lane

A road that has been traveled millions and millions of times before

As my broken car can’t seem to move past

The mountain of snow stuck between my tire wheels

My eyes grow tired as I watch the other cars drive pass by me

While I continue to press my feet against the gas

To finally reach home

Though I sit alone

In the middle of this snowing road

While each and every car continues to drive pass

My persistent feet remains pressed against the gas

To finally reach back home at last, at last

Water is harmless, until you’re drowning in it.

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Deanna Outten