"you cannot do wrong to do right"
(a universal known truth)
which puts all terrorists arguments
in their rightful place.

What became of me?
Stripped of my identity
Grief engulfed my soul
Where is the girl of old?
Was I simply existing
Inside a well formed shell?
No-one new my weaknesses,
No-one could tell.
What became of me?
Stripped of my identity
When you came to me
I was oh, so happy
You left me feeling hijacked
And my world was shattered through
Now I’ve lost my confidence
And lies became the truth.
What became of me?
Stripped of my identity.
I’ve become so sad
Thinking of what I could have had
I must learn to live with this
Yesterday’s girl non-existent
Now I have to get to know
The me I really ought to show
I’m living with a stranger in my head.
What became of me?
Now I see that I am free
Welcome in the new
And start to become truer to myself

I will not say to you
"In another life"
It should have been this one.

Sweet - scented hawthorn
Smothered in lively little bees
Earning their keep

Life's continuously changing miraculously every day.

I'm still here, and they are with me.

The darkness is hazy, dimmed with light.

The sun's shining and all feels right.

Suicides just a crazy idea, I'm embarrassed I had.

Today is today.

A much, much better day than yesterday.

I'm still here.

I'm feeling far away from yesterday.

It's a beautiful world.

It's miraculous.

The sun's shining and it's not at all hot.

There's a breeze that seems to catch me, right before I fall.

It's a miracle I'm here and happy or even at all.

I live in the moment, because tomorrow is never far.

I hate this. I hate everything.

I hate that ideas are leaking out of my brain, I hate that I'm becoming more dumber each second. Is that even a word?

I hate that annoying mouth of mine. I hate it when I spit out a word and I immediately regret it.

I hate it when my emotions take over, and make me drunk of them. I hate it when anger and sadness fight to take over my brain.

I hate it when I can't express my feelings. I hate that I can't explain. I hate that I regret.

I hate randomness. I hate that that site won't let me write stories because my email is wrong or something. I hate that my friend is salty.

I hate that my life isn't going the way I want it to. I hate that no one cares for me. I hate that they lie.

But then again, what can I do? This is life,

And I must learn to love **it.

“My heart is so small
it's almost invisible.
How can You place
such big sorrows in it?"
"Look," he answered,
"your eyes are even smaller,
yet they behold the world."

~ Rumi

the insecurity that intersects
your fingers and my figure
is enough to spin a whirlpool
seven miles wide

i rage at your taste for me
but i am cyclical, stuck
i am a fly on your calf
you do not even notice my thrashing

to feel you are ugly in the arms of a lover
to feel you are nothing in the clenches of another
frankly,
i think is quite common.

When** you haven't written poetry in a while
try not to stress, you can do that anyway,
try to just express what you want to say.
Ditch the mask, the smile
if you're feeling distraught
don't ignore the thought.

Let it all out,
run and scream and shout.

Sometimes you're not okay,
but that really is okay.
I'm just hear to say
it's okay where you're at today.