Elle - Neon Soul: A Collection of Poetry and Prose

Lately, I have been longing for something to fill me and light my world on fire again. Its been a struggle. Sometimes the creative process leaves me feeling dull and muted, almost like I have lost my spark. Maybe a piece of my magic, too. When my healing happened, the fire that was burning within me simmered down. I had put in all the work, created and protected a space that was sacred, and established an emotionally safe sanctuary that I built brick by brick.

The self-work was a part of my manifestation. What I lost in the process of discovery was the ability to tap into the parts of me that were screaming out for a voice. That voice has been muffled by growth and experience. By unwinding and unbreaking. Its like my senses decided to power off because the darkest parts of me had been healed by the vibrant hues of electrifying truth, shocking resilience, and blinding belonging. Perhaps they figured I didnt need my vibrancy anymore because, well, I had found it.

But I do need it because life without neon is dull. Truthfully, sometimes I worry that I cant grab on to my colors because I am not broken anymore. Theres a lingering fear that being whole threatens my creative voice. The hurt happened. And, yes, it will always be a reminder of what I have been through. Some scars will linger, perhaps even a few memories and remnants of self-doubt will live dormant on a cot in the back of my mind, but I decided that trauma will not be my resting place.

Pain and suffering will not make a home out of me. They will not have windows or doors to my soul. And they are no longer allowed to nestle in my space for comfort and refuge. I am not a vessel for parasitic emotions or past times.

Evolution is nearly impossible if leeches of the past are draining the potential and courage to walk in the direction of relief. Sadness and sorrow will not be where I swim or settle.

Because if I have learned anything in this life, its that my healing is whats most valuable. Growth and resilience and the ability to take control of my life from the front seat are what I have worked so hard for. Although writing this book created an abundance of anxiety for me, I needed it to reignite my spark. There have been lessons in every setback. Coming up with content was a struggle, and I believe its because a lot has changed for me, in a good way. I am no longer finding my path like I was in my early twenties.

I am on it and walking intentionally in love, light, and my lifework. Living isnt as rattled by disappointment, chaos, and emotional longing anymore. Its slowed down. Ive found peace. And most of all I am happy. I feared that my contentment wasnt what people wanted to read about.

In my mind, I assumed more eyes would be looking for the pain to relate to. Not the joy. Or perhaps theyd be searching for the fear and not the possibility of goodness coming to fruition. Because who wants to read about happiness when they are still in the thick of aching and turmoil? Nevertheless, I hope whoever is reading this wants a different view and perspective. A different angle on life after the bad and all right morph into fulfilling self-celebration, because preparing for joy is just as important as healing from hurt. hot and bold and colorful i unfold into a dance that can birth sunlight and dim darkness. escape for every woman who has been crushed by love that couldnt love her: sometimes youll be too magical to contain in a human heart. impossible how are you not enough? that is never so. that can never be. freedom give your truth wings. let it go. let it fly. loss the question is as hard as swallowing rocks and as brutal as stormy waters crashing to shore. the question is not always why, but how do we let go without falling apartwithout crumbling from loosening our grip on what was and what could have been. reminiscent of love poems that look like blush lace on brown skin that feel like silk. love poems that shift and shape broken hearts back together that feel like hope and look like growth. love poems that feel like autumn hugs and summer warmth. that sound like prayers and hymns from ancestors and grassroots. love poems that make you believe in love again. whole some people want us at our worst, shattered and
clumsy in pieces dizzied and stumbling headfirst over heels. and then some want us whole. in one entity, not in
shambles or ruins but as we are in our entirety. unravel giving my heart a rest has been nice. less dizzying. more delightful. as i take off my clothes my skin remembers to breathe for once. the hairs raise from my arms and seemingly exhale with the wind that is rushing through my cracked window. slowly i am unraveling. flight to feel, to flee. they exist in the same body, in the same heart. the thrill must be to conquer my world and then abandon it because what is the fun of playing when the war is over. love lines like marble or reflections of the sun dancing on moonlit water. stretched skin. resilient skin. you tell stories of growth and spurts and unsummoned beauty, because god and matter made us malleable. soft like lips to skin and blood to bone.

bad timing my tongue is jumbled inside of my mouth. caught in the back of my throat. what to say? how to uncurl? when you love someone who doesnt knowwho doesnt love you. i cant wash it down. so the love i have buried inside me for you just lingers there with no direction or plea just patience. the ritual of healing bathe. soak. scrub with sugar and salt. wash your hair. cleanse your body. taste your tears. what used to be is gone now. what used to be is no longer yours to keep. watch it twirl down the drain. watch it dance away with soot and skin. the pain. the pain. the pain. free it. admit it. honor it. gather yourself drenched in truth. and let it go. mess how dare you break into pieces for those who refuse to help undo the damage. who wouldnt even think to put you back together, time and time again. submit all of my instincts want to collapse and fall into you, headfirst and with no fear. uncomfortable when you are not yourself who are you trying to be? what disguise do you fold into to fit molds and boxes that do not belong to you? you cannot be happy when in heaps of yourself, can you? push away i distort my words to say things that look like everything but love. passage theres no need to circumnavigate the journey at hand or ahead. the growth, the change, the path. the winds, the twists, the turns. you will always find a way home. finale where can i put us after we end? how can i fit you into my life after weve outgrown the love we built? my drawers are full of everything we couldnt get to. there is no more room to put what we left undone and unfinished. upbringing i never quite belonged or knew where i came from. come from. belong to. love didnt show up too often in my mamas house. boundaries why do you let them make homes in you when all they do is destroy what youve worked so hard to build? why do they reign? who is your ruler, darling? its like you have forgotten youre not empty and that you are allowed to build unbreakable things. you have permission to mold moats and descend drawbridges, form fences and gates made of steel. you are allowed to keep a destruction-free zone that glimmers and holds peace of mind, heart, and soul. you reign, darling. you are your own home. self-forgiveness will you ever forgive yourself for what you didnt do? who you didnt love or let love you? will you ever be soft enough on yourself to be free?