Asantewa

Writer, Poet, Designer, Lover, Geek, Self-healer

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“Knowing how to wait. To conceal. To absorb. To surrender. To acknowledge the best. To change the worst into the not so bad. How to lose and recover in the same instant that frivolous thing, a taste for life.”

— Colette, quoted in “Colette: A Taste for Life,” published c. 1975

[wnq-writers]

People will permanently be temporary.

rizreflects (via wnq-writers)

[wordsnquotes]

And I dream too much and I don’t write enough and I’m trying to find God everywhere.

Anis Mojgai, “For Those Who Can Ride in an Airplane For the First Time” (via wordsnquotes)

[seencerelyme]

Stream and listen to Love Me. Out on itunes & Spotify next week https://soundcloud.com/poetra-asantewa/love-me-prod-by-qube

[seencerelyme]

For my birthday, all I want is for you to watch and share this video 🙂 ‪#LoveMe‬ ‪Watch full video - https://youtu.be/HzsRpFuDhrs‬ ‪produced by genius @Dre_Qube ‬ ‪An ode to #mentalhealthawarenessmonth ‬ That we will love with a staggering consistent love 🖤

[seencerelyme]

30/30 Thirty!!! 💃🏾💃🏾💃🏾💃🏾 Finally (lol) Do you have any favs? Comment on your fav! Feedback/ comments welcome 🎈

[seencerelyme]

29/30

[seencerelyme]

28/30

[inkskinned]

a frigid place grew in me like a wound. nobody else could see it or hear it, this piece of me that angered and hurt and sucked down happiness in a thin straw, purple and oozing and awful. it is hard to say you’re hurting when the entire length of it is you, just you, just your body as the noose. go on, show me what’s eating you. oh, is that it? that that? just every inch of you?

[seencerelyme]

27/30

[seencerelyme]

26/30

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25/30

[seencerelyme]

24/30 #sixmoretogo #almostthere

[themotivationjournals]

Don’t forget: that you’re human. It’s okay to have a melt down. Just don’t unpack and live there. Cry it out and then refocus on where you are headed.

Anonymous   (via wnq-writers)

[wnq-writers]

I get quiet. i don’t talk. i prefer silence. Loud music and a quiet desk lamp are my poetic scenery when depression hits. There is something familiar about writing a poem vs typing a poem. So I sit and ponder like a turning signal left blinking and blinking until thinking is all that I am but i know that i can be so much more and i’m trying but I am often wrong. There are different versions of me versus who I am - I’m still an empty canvas, an uncharted territory. I exist so soft, soft and slow. I lack colors, so I blue my blues when I think about me, us. There goes the flowers, every version withers and wilts from skin to bone. Another version of me has stars painted on her dark complexion. Maybe one’s writing the same poem. Maybe we’re having the same thoughts. Which star are they under? Do we share the same fingertips? maybe they hold the moon tightly. Maybe one day i can become a masterpiece full of depth and wisdom so breathtaking it hurts to look at. But until that day, I’ll simply and quietly exist. Waiting for that moment. Wishing for that moment.

Vivian (via wnq-writers)

[seencerelyme]

8/30 Friends break hearts too.

[seencerelyme]

April is national poetry month and I'm attempting to write 30 poems in 30 days. Never mind that I'm starting on the 3rd of April 😶. If I manage to finish this I'll take myself on a chocolate date. Here's the first one https://asantewableedswords.wordpress.com/2017/04/03/130