The Ism @veryrare1 - Tumblr Blog

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healinwithsabr

A beautiful life does not just happen, it is built daily by prayer, humility, sacrifice and hard work.

btterflyarchive

trixclibrarian

discipline allows a kind of surrender that allows the combination to create space in attended experience — I think that’s flow space.

desculpamae

parrea

Visit www.parreanyc.com to shop and view more content! We are also available @_parrea on IG.

parrea

Visit www.parreanyc.com to shop and view more content! We are also available @_parrea on IG.

parrea

Visit www.parreanyc.com for more info. We are very excited to release our Scarlet Talon in time for Fall and the Holidays. Shop Pay is provided as well. Pay $100 at checkout and sign up for further updates!

bumba-clot

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veryrare1

Choices Before Decisions.

We only answer when we’re called upon,

Only dream when its necessary,

Only loved when lonely,

Only hate when reality is not as what we thought,

For as we love, we love with unconditional arms that hug our past,

For as our hearts are broken we in our subconscious compare our first love,

To those that may follow,

And the followers will be broken in return for our unsettled pasts…

Danger lurks on our shoulders, the idea of expectations becomes the snake,

Whom gave Eve the fruit we call forbidden,

As many with full stomachs find in our chests are missing,

Twisted vision make the third eye shed tears,

Is it almost impossible to change because of your predestined idea of love?

As your first will be written in stone, my actions have little direction at sea,

I plea in need for you to see…that we….can’t be.

veryrare1

Melting Mirages.

I ran from you, ran until I swallowed my tongue like stale-vodka while digesting my words. Ran until my lungs bled battery acid and pumped tobacco ash to the moon. Ran until I treated my mind like scratch offs and scabs. Popped the balloon I called my heart and snorted my serotonin tears. Ran under the middle spaces of sanity. I ran from you. Until I made my footsteps drum music in the jungle and transformed my pain into sex. I ran punching the wind and drunk the puss sticky sweat inside my soul. I ran, ran, ran from you. But in the end, I realized it was my own shadow.

veryrare1

No Moor.

Freedom of truth, The freedom of expression The reverend lives in reverence, We’re ready for rebellion We’re heavy in oppression, Where is God when you need him? The trees keep bleeding, The roots keep peeling The more I stand in the face of the riots, No more I can’t stand to be complacent and quiet This war is a plan to erase us with violence No more, no more, no more.

veryrare1

I Lust You To Death.

The table turns,

Downside under the pillow

She screamed inside my organs,

Rubbed my soul like a genie bottle,

The consciousness we developed persecuted all other distractions,

And in that very moment we were one

In that very moment we sorted out our puzzles,

Colored eyes and thick lips snatched me away

My hands won the battle rather than my heart

And then she walked in,

The look on her eyes raped my soul

And the evolutionary heritable cycle began once more.

veryrare1

Fighting Intuition

We had a renaissance of words in the womb of our tongues. The prince had principals printed on the pinnacle of his heart, barely seen or heard. Some people wait for the past while wishing on the future. Some step backwards until it seems forward. The broken heart reunites in sanity and loneliness. The goal is happiness which becomes the bone to the dog. Our words were born on the crevice of our lips. Choices burned into temptation puts a noose to my logic. I began to feel wanted; my ego once murdered felt the urge to feel. And now I see that the mind can be an adversary to what we think. Barely anything we touch is real. To ignore life is a skill, to ignore thoughts, would make one kill.

veryrare1

Metanoia

I am the murderer, defender. The sender, the mender. Sputtering dementia. The killer, the filler. The winner, pretender. The end of all enders. The hiccups of liquor. My liver. Agendas of quitters. The December, Novembers. Remember? Considered a sinner. Offenders and benders. The injured and fixture. The bitterest whistler. Drug kicker of scissors and mirrors. A swimmer and digger. My dreams burn slippers. The pillar of chillers. I glimmer in ember. Splitter of bridges. Clitoris licker along snickers and zippers. The picture, the listener. Depends on the kisser. Depiction of triggers,pistols. Living in Denver. Intricate fiddler. A member of getters. Beginner and spinner. Victor. A healer of wicked. I differ. These pens are my dinner. Bon appétit.

veryrare1

What Society Now Lives By:

Kill the weak. Fuck the poor. Hate ourselves. Marry the bible. Suck the drugs. Burn the children. Love the dollar. Kiss the whores. Destroy knowledge.