.
page one
it starts with the wave of a hand
a simple introduction
'hi, what's your name?'
it starts with looking and seeing nothing but what is there
skin and bones and blemishes and human
it starts with feeling no cliche butterflies in your stomach
and no additional voice in your head
amongst the others
and no rapid pulse in your still-beating heart
page two
somewhere along the way the waves turn into inside jokes and small smiles
crinkles by the corners of eyes
and light chuckles
and glancing just a millisecond too long
page three
and, well, glancing just a million times too often
page four
and you write poems in attempts to make yourself believe
to drown yourself in denial
to avoid confronting the - nonexistent - blooming bud growing
sprouting from all angled corners
and cracking curves
and jagged edges of you
page five
spoiler: it doesn't work
page six
and it's strange because apart from seeing what is there you see more
or really you don't see what is there
you see what you want to be there
page seven
you see skin and bones and beauty and freckles and stars and constellations in eyes and ethereal -
page eight
perfection
page nine
except perfection doesn't exist
and what you see doesn't exist
it's just your unrealistic expectations piled up from miles and smiles of movies and books and manga and everything
page nine
and you know this
page nine
but it goes into one ear and out the other
page nine
and it doesn't stop you from claiming
page nine
you're in love
page ten
if love is just infatuation with a physical manifestation of your ideals without their consent
then i guess you're right
page eleven
there are butterflies bending, banging on you, begging to be released
you wonder when your definition of beauty became a name and a face
and you wonder when love became synonymous to pain
page twelve
the butterflies turn into birds and then bears and then freaking buildings
except these building are moving and apparently earthquake proof because you can't seem to break them down
instead the buildings are breaking you down
but the truth is no, no they aren't
don't you see?
you're breaking yourself down
how do you heal if you are both the poison and the antidote?
page thirteen
if only you could rewrite the story
but how could you?
how do you rip the pages
how do you erase the sickeningly sweet
slow stabs slicing through your spine every time a smile is sent your way
how do you mute the thudding in your brain telling you that this could never be
how do you ignore the extra echoes in your head yelling at you to get yourself together
how do you get yourself together?
page fourteen
you've been asking so many questions lately
but you know the answer to all of them
page fifteen
there's a small voice
a minuscule, malevolent voice whispering maybe
whispering maybe and perhaps and potentially
maybe you're not the only one who wants to hold on just a little longer
page sixteen
but see
it's funny how the story starts with two people and now it's just one person with an overactive imagination
illustrating a person as something more
something better
page seventeen
but you're not creative enough to keep your illusion for too long
and soon you start to see less of what you want to be there and more of what is there
skin and bones and blemishes
and human
human
page eighteen
human is ugly and human is cruel and human is wretched
but human is somewhat
beautiful
in its ugliness
and human is raw in all its dishonestly
and human is real
even if you made it out not to be
page nineteen
you will never truly now human
you will never truly know anyone or anything that isn't a figment of your imagination
but it's enough
page twenty
it starts with seeing nothing but what is there
skin and bones and blemishes
and human
and then it ends
the story ends somewhere
anywhere really
but it ends
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 2:27 PM UTC
You have already lamented enough,
Now its time to show your mettle.
You have already had enough,
Now these things have to settle.
As this time is the most salient one,
Give your best for once and for all
Then you'll have to fear none,
And there will be no restriction wall.
Its time for you to be obdurate
With your studies and learnings.
Or you yourself will obliterate
Your future and will go through many sufferings.
To avert it , just give your best
No matter how hard the things may be.
Strive hard , there is no time to rest
As to all the locks , hard work is the only key.
You must know that hard work is done in silence,
So just work diligently and avoid every mess.
Let every one feel your absence,
So be dauntless and clinch the apogee of your success.
-Keshav Atal
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 1:46 PM UTC
We fall for the ones who never seem to love us in return
But they need the medicine that we ooze
The broken-winged birds linger above as we try to find our own way
Waiting to be mended with our heart power
We are the healers
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 12:22 PM UTC
there is something inside of me that breaks
in front of every broken person out there -
and if you can find me one person that's made it
through life without being broken, well then,
my earth might just crumble where i stand -
but like i said, it's as if i mirror them,
like their emotions crawl inside of my heart,
and start to occupy my mind, and leak their
way to my tear ducts and my mouth and my limbs,
and i lose control of it, i lose it
for that brief moment, a piece of them lives within me
my sister and i are the empaths,
that's what they like to call us anyways, but
i'd like to believe we're human,
that we should all share and feel each
other's pain so that we can sleep
at night knowing we're never truly alone
i wish i had realized sooner that feeling
isn't weakness, that i didn't need to
hide something we all share, instead,
someone whispered that message to me
in slumber and i woke up with the idea
in my head thinking it was mine
as i begin to unravel ego i realize that
my ideas have been circulating for
longer than i can conceive,
and the more i meditate on the notion
the more i realize that i've just got to
keep the current going, keep stirring
that *** and send the ideas on to
someone else who might be able to
find sustenance within them
i've always known i'd be a nurturer,
but i never thought i possessed the
nourishment people needed within
the fibers of my very being, that we
all possess just what we need, what the
world needs, it's already inside of us,
waiting for someone, or something,
to draw it out
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 12:10 PM UTC
WHY
Why do I feel so angry as I stand behind an angry man waiting for a path to exist across a busy street.
Why do I feel such sorrow and pain as I sit next to a morning widow on the bus.
These emotions are not my own,
But oh how they consume my entire being.
A man with a receding hair line sayes I am one of few.
Empath.
At first I felt relief on the new discovery,
But then I realized what it meant my emotions,
My being was just bits and pieces of others.
I am a collage of the left overs of others.
I am a sad patchwork doll.
Why must I be so strange and grotesque.
My body and mind see no boundaries,
We see what's inside of everybody.
I am fake I am not myself,
but a bit of everyone.
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 12:05 PM UTC
It is the greatest act of courage
to remain soft in a world so rigid
Only the fiercest of us will
plunge into the depths of emotion
Illuminating even our darkest corners
for everyone to see
This is not weakness
This is vulnerability
And if love is the greatest
force in the universe
Then maybe strong is all
we ever have been
And all we ever could be
-Shakti o.m.
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 12:02 PM UTC
I don't know how to describe
But they all seem to inscribe
Their every pain on me
Whenever someone feels down
I just kind of start to frown
But they will never see
I know it doesn't make sense
My feelings are so intense
And they drive me crazy
What I feel is much deeper
The cliff doesn't get steeper
Will I ever be free?
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 11:56 AM UTC
The feelings around me.
My empathic workings.
Screws tightening when he walks by me.
He's angry.
The world
Is nothing but a ball filled with anger and sorrow.
My fellow empaths.
Are here to help.
And none of you know it.
What a weird place this is.
It's dark and scary room.
Is nothing but a scream.
Will it get me through to my next lifetime?
So I can be one of the empaths working the healings and feelings,
Of my fellow friends.
I'm an Empath.
And nobody...
Knows..
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 11:51 AM UTC
You are inescapable.
Like a miles wide mountain range
present in the background of every scene I see.
I am humbled and invigorated by your presence.
You are an earworm.
Like a ******* Disney song stuck in my head for years
but I’m not tired of it yet.
Even syndicated radio couldn’t wear you out now.
I feel you bone deep.
The way your soul feels has seeped into my infrastructure
I am forever changed.
I could run, but I will never be completely rid of you.
I am permeated.
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 8:48 PM UTC