the banishment of hatred and revenge
from the heart of all mankind
-a slow burn in the furnace of love.

I heard a crackle;
A heart that was enkindled,
Entranced by laughter,
Feet on uncharted waters,
Life as I know it, altered.

A calm weary voice comes from the corner:
'Freedom is the death of mourner.
We want the pain inflicted upon us to fade,
The time heals it all, after we're dead.'

I guess the medication worked
I don’t feel depressed

I don’t feel anything anymore

Dear seven year old,
Yes, there is a monster
But it’s not under your bed

The monster is in your head
But maybe it’s not even a monster
Maybe it’s just buried pain
Because they told you not to cry

Dear seven year old,
Yes, you should keep crying
Otherwise the tears will build up and flood your insides

The tears do not care for being stuck
They need to be released
Into the stars

Dear seven year old,
Yes, your plea for better times are being heard by the stars
They always will
Keep wishing on them

Wish on 11:11 too
Because to wish is to know what you want
And knowing what you want
Telling it
Makes it so much more likely to happen

Dear seven year old,
Yes, you still feel like the kid sitting under the slide and just observing life
And you’ve come to appreciate it

Observing, looking, watching
Make all the difference
Almost as much as writing

Dear seven year old,
Write.

From all these years questioning why I am alone?  Now I can simply answer, it was a choice I made that never made sense since until I see I was behind all closed doors.

No tear can simmer down the breeze of the ocean inside،
No temple gives this sinner the place to hide,
Death sounds dearer to me than I,
Whose command shall I comply?,
Shead some light that doesn't blind me so,
Shead some light on this black crow.