She whispers slow,
Soft, seductive secrets.
She sashays with stealth,
And deposits a million kind kisses
My tired and listless lips.
She breathes beauty,
Boldly inflating me.
She summons my soul
From its deep and haunted hollow.
She comes closer and closer with confidence,
Knowing that I am coolly complicit.
(As ivy climbs its tremendous tower,
So too do I grow gratefully into her.)
She lifts my life,
And we float free of fear.
Far, far away from here.
To a land of longing long-forgotten,
Where all are secure in their insecurities.
She takes me there,
Loves me with tender care.
And then, with not a word,
She softly dissevers,
I am left alone.
Skewed, and Angled.
Perception of time seems so vulnerable, at least able to be captured.. mangled.
Away it flies, yet draws closer by the second; quilted with its own set of rules and manners.. entangled.. in itself.
The ultimate healer, but kills all, besides itself, "In time." Dividing a fine line between happiness and misery..
Above rides the wind, and below, the waves.
Neither can go back, or skip ahead.
i still am trying to hold back my tears as i write this down. i thought about on my way home and debated with myself for a good 3 hours and decided that i have to write this, if not for people, for myself.
i visited the ward as a visitor today. it felt weird to be on the other side of the door. it felt weird to be on the other side of the glass, and it felt weird to look into the eyes of someone i once knew.
it hurt that as soon as i walked through the open doors, i hear the screams of a man speaking in a language i did not understand. it hurt to watch him being pinned down by 2 men almost twice his size. it hurt to watch his mental pain being temporarily stopped with physical pain.
it hurt as we started talking. it took almost every ounce of courage inside of me to hold my tears back, because i knew that me crying would dampen his spirits and affect his recovery. and i knew exactly what that feels like.
it hurt to sit back and watch him explain his illness in terms i knew far too well. it hurt to hear him say " stay here, you would understand this more than anybody else. " it hurt that i understood. it hurt that for that brief moment, i didn't want to understand. i didn't want to be in there. my legs were shaking but i listened anyway.
it hurt to hear him explain how the electricity worked and hurt his jaws. it hurt to tell him to be strong, because i knew how much it would take out of him to just try. it hurt that he cracked up jokes in the middle of our conversations, i didn't feel like laughing at all.
it hurt to watch so many people suffering from illnesses they never asked for, it hurt to watch so many of you suffering from the pain you don't deserve. it hurt to just sit there and not be able to do anything about it. it hurt.
but it hurt because it wasn't my place to feel hurt, it was yours. it was your place to scream and shout. it was your place to cry and break down into a million pieces.
but it hurt because you couldn't, because in your head you are fine. in your head, you're at work. in your head, none of this ever happened. in your head, 20 cops didn't restraint you. in your head, this is a perfect world.
but it didn't hurt because i knew deep in my heart that no matter what, the way i feel about you will never change. the strong, courageous, brave, joyful, kind, happy man that i grew up knowing will always have a place in my heart. no amount of ect's and antidepressants will take that away.
so thank you, for opening my eyes to all the pain in the world. thank you, for making me realize that i am smaller than i think i am. thank you, for making me understand that there is greater suffering in the world. thank you, for teaching me the value of gratefulness. thank you, for educating me, even if it was through your suffering.
Once upon a time,
there was a girl
she hated herself,
and she hated the world
She was so sad, so often.
She never knew what to do,
with all of her emotions.
She hurt herself and was hurt by others
and eventually just hid herself away...
Then one day,
she met a boy.
A tall boy, through a screen
who filled her with joy.
He opened up her heart,
and made her smile
At least for a little while.
Things were good for her,
outside of her dreams.
There were ups and downs
and turns and tosses
she messed up a time or two,
because she was being stupid.
But things got better,
and things became more clear...
He held her close,
and shattered all her fears.
The girl is now content,
and feels happy often
because of this boy,
her pain was forgotten.
Maybe someday she'll finish this story.
I am in a phase that is called "not fit for talking with people".
Because I literally find it so hard, it's almost like some tragedy has enveloped my entire being, taken away my skill for wordy conversations.
I can't write. There's no magic in my talks.
I can't share. Not even the most random of things
I fear coming out too much. I have become someone I cannot recognize myself
I push people away and feel bad about being scared
I don't love it. There's nothing romantic about messes.
However, I do believe in healing and I have tried for it.
I just hope it happens sooner because I....can't
i walked by myself
here and there
just to feel
whether the existence of I is sensed or the opposite
i ripped myself
in and out
just to see
if there are no chances in survival or somehow some parts will heal
i love and i care
for myself and I
just in case
just in case no one can and will