Rec | FARIHA ROISIN – I'M TWO HALVES OF THE MOON, I'M STILL EVO...

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Rec'd on 🍇 what’s your favorite poem/poet?

fariha roisin – i'm two halves of the moon, i'm still evolving

it's ok to be messy, i tell myself, impatient. like im a master welder of change, as if self-examination can manifest in quick transitions of the soul. imperfections aren't impossible to mend, but they take time. i'm still evolving! so, i look to the moon, my bible, and i seek explanation. why does my skin crackle and crawl with self-hate, oh, moon? why am i such a such a such an imperfect creature? it smiles, glowing like a compass, an orb-my light when there was none, it bares its teeth, cheeky. "we are all broken, but trying," it reminds me. "your pain, your insolence, your weakness are not exceptional." self-hate is not a vehicle worth dabbling in. why sell your soul to the Devil when you can take another path, a path less brutal and more becoming to your complexities? it asks, it asks like i am not riddled with a self-hate like a vortex, that i am not being sucked into the tides, being devoured by the sands and the vastness of the ocean, my spiritual arteries combusting, shaking in the earth to "Tere Bin Nahin Lagda Dil Mera Dholna." we are so much more than the ghosts in our ears whispering damage. i want to heal, i want to forgive myself when i ask the moon, it says, "you're already there. just open your eyes." now, let go.

@sluglandia

Feb 11, 2025

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@bigstrongguy

such a genius person and voice. thank you so much!!

Feb 11, 2025

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DONT TRUST THE MOON

“Don’t trust the moon, She’s always changing.” that’s what i was told as a child. i’ve grown older with false pretenses of an evil moon. I don’t believe it anymore I love the moon. I fell in love with the moon. I wanted to be the moon. Far away, able to vanish. I couldn’t be the moon so I found someone to be it for me. Over time i’ve realized i’m not the sun or the moon. I’m some far out dwarf planet yet to be discovered I tried to be the sun. When I was the sun no one cared I shined bright I shined and gave my light to anyone who asked I made everyone around me happy at my own expense Eventually a solar eclipse happened. My light was blacked out covered by his he didn’t mean to though? i went to my room the other day and i found a shoebox the shoebox I put all the shit you gave me in The locket you gave me when I turned 16 The photo of us on our first date at that shitty gas station. i just drove by that gas station, they want $4 a gallon. the high heels you bought me on my 17th birthday the sparkly ones where you said they didn’t sparkle as bright as my smile how stupid was I to believe you on my 18th birthday you gave me the best gift of all. money. you owed me a lot more than you gave me. you only wanted me for money and sex. i caught on quickly. I stayed though. You dimmed my light. caused a solar eclipse. the whole time I was thankful it was just me only one eclipse. you were with other women. i thought only 2 planets could overlap. clearly i failed science. you told me the sun was your favorite so i morphed and changed to be the sun for you and when i became the sun you put out my light i’ve realized that i probably should’ve listening to my childhood warning. the moons strange. different shapes and sizes you change how you look you buzz your hair you shave your mustache it doesn’t matter you’re still the moon that’s bullshit warning was false don’t trust the moon he never changes.

@lnelymuse

3d ago

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moon

When I was little and we would drive back from a religious event for a god I didn't believe in, the car tense in ways that you only understand if you know too much about your parents and they know nothing about each other or you, my little sister asleep in the back next to me, I'd watch the moon. It was comforting finding her shining up there. So far away from my small life, so cold, so bright. And then when I was a bit older, fully embroiled in my Percy Jackson obsession, I'd picture Artemis up there as the moon, bounding along by, always watching over me. I'd think of Thalia and the other Huntresses and pledge to myself never to sacrifice myself for a man after seeing what they could do to the women I knew. I'd walk home from swim practice or be back in my parents car, talking to Artemis in my head, not believing she was actually there, but needing someone who was listening. In college, going home late from a friend's apartment, or just a late evening in the lab, I'd walk with one earbud in pepper spray in hand, alert. But I'd always pause to look at the moon, feeling grateful, protected against all reason in the moonlight. My constantly changing consistent friend. And now I don't see her as much, rarely outside at night undistracted. I pause every time I do though. A silent reminder of how small I really am in the face of everything. Not alarming but soothing somehow. I'm doing my best, I don't have to be perfect. She will always be there to watch me go on.

@moonbeams

Feb 16, 2025

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the ocean

there is something figuratively beautiful about the things we know and don’t know, the sublime and mundane and when you visit the beach, do you ever think about if the animals who live in the embrace of the depths remember the beauty of the ocean? where the salt envelops every single one of us, accepting us as kin letting her wind tousle our raw, visceral edges and pepper them with her sea-foamed kisses which tell me that it’s okay to pretend and okay to tell the ocean all of myself the ocean reaches out to me, hands cloaked in the sharp coolness of water and something else- something i don’t understand as I poke around in a tide pool, like a vendor at a bustling market, observing the wares that the ocean has to offer and i turn around and ask her, do the barnacles see themselves? do anemones understand their own beauty, fragile and ephemeral? i don’t think they do. but the ocean doesn’t have any words for me, instead shutting my mouth with a shhhh as her sandy dress rustles down the shore, laced with white foam and gossamer trails of ripples and wordlessly, tells me to look and i do. until the sun hurriedly retreats from the wispy radiance of the moon, enrobed in puffy clouds and it's just the three of us. the moon tugs at the ocean’s hand, dancing to their own secret rhythm, letting me see them in their love. personally, i think it’s beautiful \\ and i wish i had something like it and the ocean laughs. nothing jeering or ridiculing, simply an acknowledgement that i understand. everything around me falls, like petals cast off from a chrysanthemum. and then, we were wordless like the ocean had never spoken in the first place. i want to descend into the depths of the ocean one day, to be hugged once more and never again. not because i am tired of being alive, but frankly within me exists too much zeal to live. uncontrollable surges of wow i am alive in flesh, blood through my veins, and thoughts in my head become more addictive than any form of fentanyl, cocaine, heroin and better than any gateway into a better life or a better existence, transcending normality and the moment it’s just me in my head, without the viscous energy of being alive suddenly drains me like a leaking bucket, decrepit and dry. i want to burn like a torch, setting my world alight into embers, into flames, into an inferno. Sunrise:: being alight || with a halo of only thoughts and dreams || and the divinity of something new