crystal holly
crystal holly
9 hours ago

Like a fruit that's become too ripe,
I'm softening up

I allowed love to harden me
Each negative encounter,
Each bad memory,
clinged to me until I became as stoic as
the statues in Rome

But it's time to lick my wounds
and become more limber,
Like sunflowers that sway in the breeze,
Elastic but rooted

I will be,
Elastic but rooted

#heart   #healing   #growth   #sunflower   #rome   #progress   #ripe   #elastic  
Buddy T
Buddy T
3 days ago

take one step forward
breath in
open your eyes

the world will grow
without you
if you sleep

face this with me
hold me
cry with me

it will not end
not today
and not tomorrow

so please wake up
look up
get through this

if you don't open your eyes and grow up the world will evolve with out you
Brett Palmero
Brett Palmero
5 days ago

In a city of gold
Lies a forest
Though quite old
It is my nest

Upon the wind
My name is sung
A hand they lend
When life stung

The sun shines
Through the leaves
Erased are lines
Allowing growth of seeds

Down the road
You'll find the lake
Beauty, the sky showed
A new day to awake

This is where passion burns
This is where birds sing
This is where a student learns
This is what Lake Forest is

Lake Forest College

Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.
These, our bodies, possessed by light.
Tell me we'll never get used to it

- Richard Siken

there are two facts upon which you ground your love:
     1. you are damaged
     2. they are going to leave

you do not come screeching out of your mother’s body believing this about yourself
     you learn how
     over time
     over minutes and months
     over years

you meet people and take them into yourself
     wrap them in your chest so deeply
     you know they will never escape.
     they may exit your life
     walk away,
     go where you can’t find them;
     but not the presence of them
     the core of them
     the feeling of them inside of you
     beating and glowing and sighing
     like a heart
     not that. that will stay. you’ll make it stay

you’ll teach yourself to grip onto those final remnants
     the way a dying person grips onto breath

you will hold and hold and hold
     not letting go, not knowing how to

you’ll grow a well of absence inside yourself
     and nurture it into a great and incredible yearning:
     this hall of memories within you
     these faces you cannot forget

you will call it grief. you will call it

the girl who shows you the truth is
     ballet and brilliance
     you watch her sideways on the bus
     where she sits with her mother,
     face swathed in light,
     profile outlined in radiance
     like the ring of a solar eclipse
     and you have only been around the sun
     nine times
     but god,
     the quiet, uncomplicated
     beauty of her,
     the straightforwardness of
     her warmth—

she is the first person to whom
     you are not biologically linked who sees
     something more in you
     she notices your fire and tends to it
     until it becomes a towering

but the last night you see her
     you are sure you are going to die
     caught in the seats of theater
     in front of a stage on which
     this girl dances
     like she has nothing left to give
     but love
     and an utter lack of

the last night you see her
     she embraces you
     and her hair is curled
     and her lashes are lined
     and her lips are rosy
     and you could scream out with what you
     but cannot explain

the last night you see her
     the elevator doors close
     between the two of you,
     splicing your longing,
     sending you off onto your own
     barren continent

the last night you see her
     you learn that you love
     and people leave
     and that the people you love leave
     and that this is a truth you almost
     cannot bear

[how to turn my grief into something
how not to equate my longing with something
     flawed, something ugly
how to
     rise again
how to

these are the things you ask yourself now
     when you are naked and alone in your loss

these are the questions you stay alive to answer
     because yes, you are damaged
     and people leave
     but that is not everything there is to
     this filthy-heavenly existence
     you cannot seem to

you carry your sorrow like an old handbag
     but you are growing tired of its weight
     preparing to incinerate it and spread the ashes
     the way you spread your devotion:
     bravely, and now,
     without remorse

you are learning that you are damaged
     and wonderful, scarred
     and sacred
     and divine
they are going to leave
     but you will go on in spite of it
     you will go on because this is
     all you have

you and your heart
     and your overwhelming forward momentum

your love

#love   #heart   #loss   #people   #soul   #grief   #healing   #leaving   #growth   #absense  

Acceptance of my true self
is something I've never grown to know.
Learning to love who I am,
isn't something I've ever done on my own.
A new day grants a choice,
a new day gives a chance.
I am me,
which is all I will truly ever be.
I am me,
which means the rest is easy.
With growth I see,
each day is mine and belongs to me.

to love another before yourself,
is cruel to two

And then it happened.
I came face to face with my ex.
Not much has changed from the last time we spoke.
When I was younger there use to be a sense of grief.
That somewhat odd feeling that overshadowed everything good in my life.
Suddenly watching the clouds go from bright white to a dull gray.
I hated thunderstorms back then.
I'd like to think that I've learned a lot sense then though.
Watching her eyeball me with a sense of curiosity.
Slowly learning the fact that I seemed to be doing a lot better without her.
You know those looks that reveal a lot without so much as a word being said.
She had plenty of those, often catching herself in mid sentence.
Her naturally low cut eyes now lower.
I wouldn't actually describe her as being a addition or nowhere close to a binge.
But more so one of those random nights you get hammered and wake up the next morning trying to figure out what happened.
No not at all. Again I am being modest.
If anything she was one of those drinks with a acquired taste.
The kind of drink someone offers you in attempt to try something new and though it tastes bad you still drink it out of generosity as it was a kind gesture.
Not at all stating that she was a bad person. No she was very sweet.
In fact I am glad that I had opportunity to bump into her again.
But a lot of time has elapsed sense then.
And seeing how time works I am no longer the same person.
Though I must admit,
First seeing her I was a bit puzzled, as those dark clouds that normally follow were nowhere to be seen.
Nor the crackling of a long drawn out bolt of lightening.
Both probably caught in traffic, Arguing over which came first.
If anything, she knew I had a high tolerance as far as drinks are concerned.
But again I am being corrigible.
Yet, this time I didn't miss the exit sign on my way out the door as normally I'd walk pass it twelve times, mistaking it for something else.
In a strange twist we neither dismissed each other nor omitted each others presence.
I walked out the door, while she was busy finishing what was left of her fiancee

i like to make lists: one thing per month for what i’m looking forward to
(reasons why i shouldn’t die)
i like to start with february (because january is overrated and shitty) --anyway:
february: my best friend’s birthday
march: fuck--
okay, okay, let’s start over:
february: valentine’s d-- fuck. that doesn’t help.
i like to alternate years between being badass and single and laughing with friends over how awful dating is, and buying myself chocolate and watching hallmark movies all day.
let’s try this one more time:
february: my best friend’s birthday
march: spring break spent with friends going anywhere but home
april: rain instead of snow
may: the end of the school year-- finals week sucks but it’s just a week of stress and then i’m done--
june: warm weather
july: so much sunshine that i forget about my depression
august: catching up on sleep that i lost all year (lost all summer staying up with the warm weather)
september: sales on office and school supplies, notebooks and paper
october: halloween
november: half-winter, half-autumn movies, nightmare before christmas, donnie darko
december: christmas and peppermint mocha
january: pretending like everything is a fresh start even though i know that i’ll just be worsening my same old bad habits (it’s okay, my frontal lobe won’t be done forming for another six-to-eight years anyway)
february: my birthday, watching all the scratches and scars from other people and things start to fade.

attempting a kind of humorous existentialism? been listening to bo burnham, lol

What doesn't kill you
Makes you stronger,
So please,
Begs your tugging heartstrings,
Hold on just a little bit longer!

And I can feel a darkness
Eroding your brilliant light.
It weathers and breaks and fractures,
Piece by painful piece.

Your brilliant colors,
Usually a beacon of light,
A signal for me,
Constantly shouting
This is home!
Fade into thoughts that consume.

What doesn't kill you
Makes you stronger,
So please,
Whispers a soft voice,
Hold on just a little bit longer.

And when you sleep,
The darkness edging
At the corner of your mind
And I know this
Because, though at a lull,
Your colors gleam and glow,
The familiarity warming me.

But you've been tossing and turning,
And digging your elbows into my back,
And I know this means you're not sleeping well,
But not being able to help--
Well, it's my private hell.

What doesn't kill you
Makes you stronger,
So please,
The words just don't fit,
Hold on just a little bit longer.

And life does terrible things.
And maybe we'll never understand.
And maybe there's just too much to lose,
But I'll risk everything,
If it means loving you.

Life does terrible things,
But it's what we make of it,
And while I doubt you'll let
The darker shades grow any more
Than they have,
It's still my job to worry.

What doesn't kill you
Makes you stronger
So please
I'll ask softly,
Just hold on a little bit longer.

Crimson drew down his arm tracing the serrated skin which once stitched me together.

When I left him, as a boy, I cursed him. Much as I do now. Hate heavy, black blood released.

The anger of the child was misread, miscalculated. How could they know? That I, insidiously twisted, corrupted his blight less soul.

From my prison I heard his cries, sweet screams saturated the silence as he trembled.

Frozen, the blade was unable to pierce his flesh, so I pushed him, and he carved away

The shackles broken, I returned to the mantle of deceit and buried him with the others, voices fragmenting into the night.

#self   #truth   #change   #power   #growth   #identity   #evolution  
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