A field, Jar tightly sealed, Stature small, teal, Familiar feelings. Tired, field mouse, Mired with doubt, Steals from the house, Who take from ploughmen, Stealing from the mouse. A car, Jetpacks to Niam, Feeling large, carmine, Looking down, similar lives, but it's my time.
As she floated through the air She looked down on all she loved as if she didnt have a care Death betrayal and pain All emotions that drove her insane Her legacy she wants to instill in all to be better than most Now she is her own worse ghost You see she always did the opposite of all she said To her but not most her most valued accomplishment is that she is dead She was jugde by all as she tried to stand her grounds and be true to the morals she set As there stare grew bolder and there words direct and hateful she felt death was her only bet So she closed her eyes took the blade and stabbed herself in the chest Praying that god knew her heart best As the blood oozes from her white shirt all she feel is relief And now that shes gone she leaves thoses she loved with her beliefs Everyday she graced this earth with her present she was haunted by her memories that was drowing her in a sea of tear Her biggest regret is not that she lived but that she lived her life in fear As her body was lifed to the ceiling the darkness that once ironically consumesd her was replace with a light And as she moved closer to the light it became so bright There was a voice that she had heard many times beore Telling her this wasn't the end and choose the other door She heard the message loud and clear and vowed to do right And even on her darkest day she remain true to the light Because on that faithful day she died she really literary died however was born again Not to live a life of hell but to do her best and at the end of her road know that when darkness and despair set in she will always win
“Don’t let me down”, now that’s a foolish way of thinking Response of confirmation, actions not in agreement Not very much Redeeming Like Pandora’s box you’re seeming Like bullets to the chest, I’m barely breathing Confused and in distress, was I deceived? and Was I deceiving? Were you mistaken by my distance and a lack of trust was formed Or was my token of your trust misplaced in your corrupted life form? Are you a demon? But you weren’t demeaning. You boost me up, Above the ceiling was my love Like, not love, allow me to clarify Was different, real connection But anything more than that I inform you, I deny And now I cry Mine, your were not but all of you was with me Or maybe me with you, that’s where I get confused Mistaken thinking Time, as more comes, you will fade At least that what my research say But I swear to god, my image of you gets imprinted on me more and more as I survive the day Leave me alone I don’t want you here to stay Memories in my bone Fractured when I lay Fractured when I wake Fractured me in my waist Oh what a waste A waste of my fight when all I care to take is flight All I care is me and you changed that habit Is that what lies are like? Is the purpose damage? If so you succeed because I’m more than done I’ve lost my sun Although it’s reflection on the moon is a pretty replica You set me up Trojan horse You lift me up And when things got good you sat me down Let me frown Although I hide, that feelings sound That feelings loud Those thoughts clear These eyes hold tears Those drops aren’t mild Neither were my fears So clear Ill steer for now Others won’t be allowed My voice won’t speak aloud Not truth nor words of deep Only traps for the weak, ones I couldn’t put out They were from your slope Your dope became my cloud I guess it’s, both, hello and goodbye for now. If only I knew before, how much you’d let me down.
Oh, to forget, Castle, all, buttered pears. But what of man? Was he even there? Even one percent, I wish I could share. All art forms a certain length, All on loan, and suddenly end, A dozen eggs, A dozen days, No son, No in love again, Arms too short to hug oneself. I feel as if I double dealt, You tell me what face I have, Where I belong, That you've already won; Wet seasons among, many drugs, I regret: I've already punched. Call me a spade, But I do what I want, And I won.
I feel like an empty vessel cast away The only thing that hits my hull is the slap of a choppy wave I have no crew on board they all found the challenge to much The cargo I have is overflowing from deep within my hull The milk has soured & the whey of the milk is all I am able to smell I once was loved in such a way, the strength of it filled me up I know it is hard to see not that I am old & withered up The way she pulled me towards her, like there was always a rope connecting us The feeling this gave to me is far too much to describe I know that is is hard to see now that my ropes have frayed away The sails are saggy, no wind will fill them up My rudder seems to be broken, around in circles is the only way it goes I fill with dizziness, that is all too much & reminds me of the day the love went away I know I will never dare love again, this old hull can not handle it all again So I will keep going in circles seeing the same thing There is no joy, no crew to fix me up. The old milk, in the old vessel has been left on its own The stench will never leave.
Often at times, I find myself at war with my own mind, Unable to accept that that I'm unable to accept that I am but a speck of dust, Wandering aimlessly, Crashing into everything that I'd eventually grow to love, Then wandering off in search of someone who would eventually break my heart into a million tiny pieces until I'd convince myself to just give up, But our species, For better or for worse have an unwavering ability to persevere, So I tuck myself beneath this dirt seeking only solace from that which left me questioning everything, Until one day I push past the debris and rubble, a stock with a shadow, And with each and every passing day, I feel the life and love growing and shaping me into a stronger version of the person I abandoned in the grave I call these sheets just the day prior, For no pain will silence me, No discomfort will ever extinguish that which sets my heart on fire.
Understand and teach, Understated leaning; Two doves meet, screw, Too political to flee So peruse their feelings. Undo seams, view my being; What ensues is anarchy, Stop to stare at the window, What do you see? A world, without me; Call the children, in at once! It's not what in his heart, It's the way he talks! A speaking hall of mirrors, All it's brilliance lost. Chicken mostly water, Only poultry in part. Justice and peace, Butter and cheese, Elephant man feels, just like bad dreams.
Rise oh sun oh immortal flame to wake the soul to play again. To run and dance and jump for joy and warm the hearts of girl and boy. Beam down your rays of healing light confirming natures pure delight and bringing forth more glee than blight no winter yet in this souls sight. May brilliant joy and exaltation be your gift and coronation leading toward the beach of plenty makes one feel like being twenty. Wish upon dream upon starry starry night. Let your spirit take its flight to one you’ll hold extremely tight. Embrace your dream with passion free exposing all intentional glee for daylight breaks and dawn reveals lovers heart… eternally.
Of stem and leaf, Love fed at ease, Of ends and meet, Of fair and sweet, When we speak of things We speak so freely, Of flesh and teeth. Shanty after shanty, See the men at sea, See the heights they reach, Lows so permanent and deep. Well, that's sweet, Yes, that means, Go ahead and feel, Just know, there is no you and me.
sitting on the red couch eating rice and beans straight from the pot the rice is undercooked and toothy it sticks to my spine it burns my throat picking around green peppers while the south winter sun runs through the window and reflects off the floor and is blinding bright it burns my eyes it doesn’t feel warm at all despite the two pairs of socks and layered shirts and oh i’m so tired. might just. wrap up in a blanket and go to sleep.
Bindle stiff of simple things, Fake brickwork buildings, Frugal beginning. Mind filled with bitterness, Still feeling ideas stone: Life constatant, slowly. Hands in gauze and clovers, One makes a river of oceans, A farm of forests, dogs of horses. Yet smashes up against the stone, Dark and lonely, eyes gloss over.
To scratch to paper to feel, A rat pampered can keel, Catch as cant, caped and kneels. To manage a brokerage well, Manger broken, belly swells, Change hopeful, soon quelled. The train is gold but gone, Pain is old game to fawns, Again retold, they carry on.
He writes on reeds, Rides on steeds, Likely feeling. He sees the sea, Steels a seal, Greets, then eats. He wastes away, Hastily his days, Vast mountains sway.
To claw and claw, Writing of natural law, Barracks and arches, Scientific approaches; To be driven ashore, Hearing of chorus, Fairs and archfiends. Only death can stop me, Friends and colleagues; Stems, large leaves, Cigarettes, coffee, Footsteps and then leaps; See my craft on screen, See their past as I see. Consequence on my freedom, I feel men are not sheep.
When you touch the water, Do you feel it's wetness? When you make art, do you ask, How far is the sunset? Like a squirrel along the fence, I hope I never dash to the end.
Warning: this is looooooong and if you’re a sensitive individual the first parts may bother you. But hopefully the last part will inspire you. Speak your truths friends. The ones who matter will love you all the harder. #worldmentalhealthday Hidden Stories They smiled, jokingly told her she looked tired, “Must’ve partied hard last night.” Smile quietly returned, “just didn’t sleep too well I guess.” She didn’t tell them how hard it was to get out of bed this morning, How sleep never came last night, How it felt like the darkness would just swallow her whole, How she felt hollow and empty and there weren’t any tears left, just an ache deep within that wouldn’t subside. And maybe if she just squeezed her eyes shut and stayed in that bed in the blacked out void, She wouldn’t have to face another day of faked smiles and “I’m ok” lies. “Just tired today I guess.” “It’s warm today man!” “What’s with the long sleeves all the time?” “Got some crazy tattoos under there?” He smiled, laughed along with them, Self-consciously ran his hands over his wrists. Over the bandages binding his secrets. They didn’t know how close he got last night, how he almost let go, How so much blood, HIS blood swirled down the drain, mixing with his tears. He was sure no one would miss him, but he wondered if he would miss this world, And the good days out in the sun, Few and far between as they were. What would they say if he were gone tomorrow? “You should’ve come out with us last night. You would’ve had so much fun...” She nodded and made those “next time” promises, though she knew they were lies. She’d stay home again, Wrapped in the icy grips of loneliness, Which felt somehow better than her burning cheeks when the right words just wouldn’t come, or the wrong ones spilled out, and she felt their eyes on her, Panic rising, thoughts frozen Wishing she’d just stayed home, Away from the judgement, And all the wrong moves she always made “Haven’t seen you around in a while! Doing ok?” His mouth smiled, head nodded, lips formed words he’d said so often, automatic. Because, really, he thought, How could I describe that moment last night, body curled up with forehead cold against the kitchen floor, Ears covered to block out the voices, Silent screams wracking his body as the panic overwhelmed him, No breath to speak, And who could he call anyway, How would he explain these moments of pure fear that slipped in unnoticed and become everything, took everything, until he was a shivering shell of himself. Sometimes he wondered, if they could see through him, would they think him weak? Would they walk away...? These people are all make-believe, but the experiences are not, taken from articles and discussions and sometimes even revelations from real-life friends. These are not my stories, but they are someone’s truths, Not their weakness, Not their short-lived sadness that they can just “get over” if you try hard enough to make them happy. (My gosh do I need to remind myself of that part sometimes...) But that doesn’t mean you stop trying. Love them y’all. Love them so damn much that you’ll sometimes break through the cracks in their self-inflicted armor. Listen to them, Give them the chance to be open and honest, And if what they say makes you flinch, imagine what it must feel like for them. Do something kind that makes them smile and get ready to do it again tomorrow. Smile and laugh with them. Cry with them. Be genuine with your thoughts and feelings. Give them space, but check on them. Pull them out of the dark for just a moment, say, “I’m here for you when you need me. And I always will be.” Mental health issues are often invisible, but still feel debilitating to the one inside that head. Stay educated. Be understanding. Love the hell out of each other. ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎💗
If all our troubles Could grow wings And flutter away How much lighter Our hearts would feel I’d go bird watching for OCD Or photograph Anxiety Capture Depression in my lens Wait quietly for Loneliness and then Watch them all take flight, bright wings While my unburdened heart doth sing
I miss that girl who wore the moon on a chain, The one who found happiness in solitude and rain, Who wasn’t smothered by the endless need-to-dos, But instead made simple moments her muse. I miss the girl with the honest, unforced smile, The one who could always stay for awhile, Who took endless photos of sunsets and trees, And spent time, just being, under canopies of leaves. I miss the girl always seeking out the new, The one whose blue days were ephemeral and few, Who spent her Sundays, childlike, taking trips to playgrounds, Instead of as an adult, pushing expensive mops around. I miss the girl who wore pink bandanas and braids, Whose undercurrent in life wasn’t always “afraid”, Who wasted away hours in make-believe lands, And felt no guilt with book or controller in hand. And I miss car rides with no destination, Enjoying the lilting song of a clock for pure relaxation, Not feeling enslaved by my own procrastinations, Making last minute plans, happy deviations, I miss yesterdays that happened years ago And I miss the me that I used to know