Actions We Consume Unknowingly
WRITTEN BY XIAO MEI // IMAGES BY ANDREW DOWNING
I felt very led as an artist to write my expressions in poetic form about some of the subconscious decisions women make within their lives daily. I am guilty for them as well, but am thankful I recognized how unhealthy my decision makings were. Many of these habits we may not notice on the forefront until it’s all said and done, which is our downfall. But today, take the time to be in the NOW. When spoken to, don’t just listen to hear, but listen to understand.
Here are my naked thoughts…
Incapable of Seeing Ourselves
She breathes easy even when the air is lethal. She drinks poison though all things mortal, lays aside hope and sets faith into those asleep. She’s destined for greatness with a heart filled full of sympathy. Sympathetic to all but the mirror. The mirror of truth that screams cutting words with love. The mirror that follows the corridors from left and right, but is never moving forward. The mirror which stands in placement of a missing soul held only for a moment to comfort those who weep. The mirror that yells beautiful, but is dead silent from the dirty specks it is unclear. Silenced. The mirror that shatters and then assembles its broken reflection with lies. She’s sympathetic to all but the mirror.
Acting Envious of Other Women, While Losing Our Identity
She walks in glory, her essence is pure. Her smile enlightens the room and arouses the genitals of him and him...they all want a sample of her divine serenity. Her heart is filled with laughter as she travels the world. Africa to India, China to Beijing, the land to the West Coast, the Hills to the Valley. Cop a ticket, cop a ticket, I copped a ticket. I envy without reason.
She’s doused in Gucci, smelling like a new pair of Louboutin’s. Hair so organic, I am her mirror. Valley voice, though softly spoken. My love lingo now sways. My yesterday doesn’t know its baby momma is tomorrow. Presently a rolling stone I no longer can decipher my identity. I envy without reason.
My apparel transformed like Loft to Supreme like Macy’s to Yeezy. That vibe she carries I weary. First of the month knocks on my door like a White Man neglects the dark skinned…”I do not have any.” Though I mirror the mirror less, fresh to death, fresh to death, I am fresh to death.
I envied without reason.