Follow World Poet Briella!
Follow Briella on Insta! Here is a sampling of her poetry...
I am a
mosaic of memory embodying this intricate entity.
A
girlfriend, a daughter, a friend and a frenemy, just trying to juggle these
gifts that were sent to me.
Art and
authenticity, chaos and simplicity,
A rebel by
nature,
A runner,
A chaser, an
inked-up eraser,
A lover,
A hater.
Messy and
clean, a mystical machine, the truth and some fantasy, posh and obscene, nice
but sometimes a little too mean.
A walking
contradiction wrapped at the seams of both fact and fiction, calming and
friction, lazy yet still proactive about my mission.
I am both
wild and holy.
Salt and
honey, taking things fast yet craving things slowly.
An
anomaly.
Sweet and
shocking, very vanilla with fun little toppings. Conservative yet so so
liberal.
Loyal to a
fault yet so so civil.
Large and
little, mostly spiritual but sometimes just a little too superficial.
A fusion
of earth and space, a muse for rebellion and grace.
A seeker
of truth, obsessed with my wisdom yet basking in my youth, breaking the ceiling
and proving my proof, chasing my healing yet seeming aloof.
I am both
lost and found, heavy but light, a silenced sound, chill and uptight.
I love and
I love and I love then I fight, surviving in the dark but thriving in the
light.
I know my
baby
is waiting
for me,
below this
chaos and conspiracy.
He waits
for me, patiently,
his heart
stays closed,
no vacancy
because he
belongs to me.
My last
one left me
bent and
battered
but he
opened me up
to what
really matters,
a true
love, above the flatter,
a genuine soul,
who
handles my scatter
and all my
unnecessary
mental chatter.
He'll hold
me till
I fall
asleep
and
disregard the dark I seek
and laugh
when I tell him
that I am
weak
because
all he'll see
is his
queen of mystique.
He'll kiss
my scars
one by
one,
internally
and externally,
until he's
all done,
like it’s
an amusement park.
Exploring
me, entirely,
so fiery
and with every touch
I'll feel
his spark.
A soul satisfaction,
he'll
makes his mark.
He's a
gentle man,
with
perhaps
a rough
exterior,
a
confident man,
he never
feels inferior.
He'll say,
"How can I make this any clearer? You are everything and nothing that you
see in the mirror."
He'll love
me for me
and the
words that I write
and
happily he'll put up a fight
and keep
me on my toes
just
right.
He's
affectionate
and
attentive
to my
needs he'll wash away
my fear of
his leave
cause
never could he ever
fathom
leaving
his queen,
the
prettiest little thing
he has
ever seen.
And every
time we go out,
me and my
king,
we make
memories.
And it
feels like
I've known
him
for centuries.
Perhaps,
he's tall
dark
and
handsome,
a
kidnapping,
no ransom,
charming
but always
faithful.
He takes
life by the handful.
He's light
like a candle
keeping us
on track,
gently
running his fingers
up and
down my back
as we lay
and we
play
and we
snack,
he says
baby?
Tell me,
do you
love me back?
Blowing
free in the breeze, amongst millions of scattered nothing's, I was something.
Deeply
intricate, with rebellious petals and an artistic soul. Fighting against
conventionality, I blew to wherever corner my wind took me.
Seeds of
passion scattered into stumbled ideas forming pretty little groups of
extremities.
I basked
in the sunlight, smiled in the rain, and knew who I was from the very
beginning, a wildflower.
And
whenever I found myself trapped in a garden of nothing...
I would
remind myself that I?
I was
something.
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