High Praises

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Oh Goddess of rejections,
insecurities, sleepless
nights, and the sink
that always seems to leak.

Oh Goddess of loneliness,
depression, evenings spent
looking for hope in the
foggy light of isolation.

Oh Goddess of endless
chores, mundane errands,
always lurking around,
watching me toil and spin.

Goddess of painful memories
collected in a heart jar.
Unfulfilled dreams and desires.
The oil slick of wasted time.

I love you for forcing me to feel;
As I stand here holding onto
the railing of my sanity.

I thank you for the hands
wrapped around my neck.

For each tussle with the sun,
that always hides behind
a cloud of chaos.

At least I’m still here, kicking,
and dodging, the shadow crop of
my mind. I know how to make fire,
while others still struggle with flint.

For you it was never about high praises.
You live for the forlorn.
You know the insincerity of the thorn bush.

I praise you for the shattered,
the weeds, the bee stings, the
thunder clouds, every skinned knee,
wilted flowers, the dove that
refuses to eat from my hand.

Oh Goddess of imperfection,
You know that despair is the beauty
life and poetry are made of.

Thank you for teaching me this.
My tears and words sing back
a hallelujah for the pain.

-Tosha Michelle

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Somewhere 

In the atmosphere, I have fallen.
I will not wake or be woken.
In my bed clouded by air.
I lie alone but not lonely.
Uncertain of certainty.
In this brief windswept hour,
the heavens spare a glance,
or maybe just a lark
I always wish on Jupiter
thinking it’s a star.
I write, knowing I can’t
rescind it.
The words heart colored
Legible only to me.
It is good until it is not.
Tell me there’s a comet somewhere

-Tosha Michelle

What If?


What happens in the chamber
of a narrow mind?
Does the air grow thin?
Does the dim light flicker?
What would happen if
a door opened?
If they dared to look beyond it? If they viewed the world as it is, cracked but not broken?
If they acknowledged not only voices that speak with the loudest inflections, but those small voices that bend?
Imagine if they saw liberty as
not just a ruse but something
that belongs to everyone?
The axis of the Earth not
just them, but you and me too.

-Tosha Michelle

And on an unrelated music note.  

Nothing to Lose

If there’s one thing I love almost as much as poetry it’s dresses. Today  I give you my fashion sense and a song.  New poem coming soon. 💕 Happy Sunday y xx


And one of my favorite songs

“Come on, and we’ll sing, like we were free
Push the pedal down, watch the world around fly by us
Come on, and we’ll try, one last time
I’m off of the floor one more time to find you’

What Do You Hear?

Hello lovely ones. Happy Sunday. This blog post is a mix of of beauty, fashion and poetry. Please excuse the no makeup, hair in a messy bun look in the video 

Sometimes when low dark clouds hang above a
mind that is usually crystal
When lucid thoughts
become cluttered with
distorted perceptions.
When negative voices
linger in the darken chamber
speaking in disorder tones.
It’s hard not to become
brittle and break.

But if we can silences those
naysayers for just a moment
Maybe we can hear the sweet
cadence of a call note
reminding us of life’s affirmations and blessed beatitudes.
Maybe we can release ourselves
from desperation and self doubt. As hope’s
breathless alert finally resounds.

-Tosha Michelle