Collections of Tinsel and Pearl

This image belongs to the New York Post

I came to Portland with the mind of a curious yet broken child, and I will leave this city with my sovereignty, my peace, and my Truth.

I’ve outgrown those rose-colored shades, for I can’t heal what I can’t see.

I’ve abandoned the illusion of perfection and virtue, for bright lights create shadow, and my soul chooses the Middle Path.

I’m transmuting the lust for money, power, and recognition, the culture of internalized white supremacy.

I’m confronting my fears and reparenting my orphaned inner-children, for this work makes me whole.

I’m accepting responsibility for the pain I’ve caused others, and of course, myself. Here I reclaim innocence and peace.

I’m choosing to sit with my own grief, to channel my rage in beneficial ways, and to give myself grace when I don’t have the strength.

I’m learning to rest, to listen, to receive. Most of all, to be patient.

I’m reclaiming my Divinity. No human on Earth can take this from me.

I’m learning to treat Creation as Creator, a Temple made in Their image.

I’m taking my power back from all man-made institutions, like religion, politics, and the assumptions of my own peers.

I’m learning what it means to love and be loved, imperfect as we are.

The growing pains promise new beginnings, like a wish on a butterfly wing.

The destruction and creation happens simultaneously, thus I embrace both grief and joy, and continue to dance along the sacred red road.

I am gathering these lessons, and letting untruth fall away.

I am grateful for all that has transpired.

I am listening….

Just Another Midnight Soul Retrieval

I left my soul down on the bottom rung of the social ladder, burned in wood, a troll’s toll.

The desert mirage no longer glitters like gold.

The palace is but a haunted mansion of putrescent corpses and tormented souls.

How long have I journeyed down this dark path?

All this upward motion led to downward spirals for backward people running from their own shadows.

The premise of our religion is the reason for proposed extinction. Is there not a human alive who doesn’t believe we don’t all deserve to die?

And every rung thereafter reaffirmed self-loathing for the delusion of perfection, for false security, for the American nightmare.

Even as I rejected promises of fame and fortune, for the price of my soul, I chose to climb.

“Little child, striving for the top bunk, you were never an angel, and that’s okay.”

To hell with the ladder. This false ascension has exhausted me.

Dismantle the mechanisms that would motivate me toward that zombie wasteland.

Allow the pain body to step into the light and, dammit, find the strength to look it in the eye.

And breathe….

Keep breathing….

“Little child, don’t you know that love cannot be earned?

You’ve lost your religion, but you still bear the scars on your hands from when they nailed you to the cross.

If they don’t love you now, they will never truly love you, and that’s okay.

It’s okay even when it’s not.”

I found my soul where I left it, on my bedroom floor, where there was

once a wooden ladder.

In the 2nd grade, the night I considered

the question, “what do you want to be when you grow up?”

I don’t “want to be,” I am.

I am.

This is good

enough for me.

–Kaika ❤