How was I supposed to grow
When you watered me with fear and doubt
How was I supposed to know
What you could never figure out
How were you supposed to teach me
What you could never learn
How to truly love and feel empathy
Instead of letting the anger burn

Now I water the garden of my heart with tears
and I can never seem to figure out
why my mind is consumed while it feasts on fears
Or what I am going so crazy about

Why do people revisit their old wounds ?
Is it an addiction to pain ?
Or unwillingness to let go of misery ?
It is the same reason a bird revisits its broken nest;
To see if it can fix its broken walls or remove the thorns from its floor board .
Perhaps to try something different from last time hoping this time round it will work.
This is the law of life ; learning to leave with pain.
Sometimes when the skeleton gets out of the closet you can't take it back.
The only way to understand pain is to look deep into it without turning back ,to stare Into the dark abyss until you see the light.
Because healing always begins with embracing pain not running away from it.

Fear is a fire that eats the soul
Muffles the brain in a cold body’s triumph
Toss the world from hand to hand
Say, praise the petty warrior heart

Why do I do this? This mumbling
How many Discord VCs to lurk through?
Silence becomes; nobody hears the girl talk
Yet she is good with word, think one once did say

Bold with brushstrokes I dream to make
Yet never the warrior I’d one day paint
As mice we scuttle, say, as a mouse I do
She’s so shy, is said, and I seethe - I stutter

Words are we, and the absence as well
Bumbling thunder that tricks a tongue
Fear is a fire that eats the soul
With its carnal hands, it is so so sweet

I yield to mumble, the scuttle of old
This is not the pretty stumble of youth
World bloomed a bud, bright-eyed and blue
Called to me, it calls me still

Called to me, they all do still
Curse the Icarus eyes of song
We couldn’t look through, we couldn’t do

Gold did lure, it glittered too
Stroked the wings - I couldn’t do
                                        Lord, I couldn’t do

O, what wonders my senses behold  
As down the garden path I amble,  
And a welcoming feast starts to unfold
As my footsteps approach the bramble  

A few startled birds dare to scold me
As I pluck the berries from their stems;  
(It would take determined arms to hold me
And restrain me from these tasty gems)  

But as a child I was taught to share,  
So my feathered friends have naught to fear.
But what is that scent invading the air?
As I turn the path, lilies appear

Casablanca lilies six feet high
Tower over me like fragrant clouds;
Small wonder mourners approvingly sigh
When white lilies adorn dead men's shrouds

Scintillating songs of mirthful birds
Gently float toward the welcoming ear
Of the listener, who, at a loss for words,
Stands in awe of this enchanted sphere

Nature's beauty begs to be caressed
By admiring eye or sensual hand;
And those who seek will find a treasure chest
Of Earth's priceless gems at their command

As the sun pompously greets the night,
Spreading flames of gold and crimson hues,
All the senses stir in utter delight,
And in such splendor poets find their muse!

I lost my will to speak
my ability to write
to be with them
to be them
my bipolar mind
shadows that lay uppon my sun
I reckon
I am the one

I stated my peace
Which brought only conflict