You will survive this.
You might be in a bad place right now.
It might feel like the feeling will never go away,
like its too overwhelming to imagine ever leaving.
But this too will pass.
you can survive this.
Someday, maybe years from now, maybe months maybe weeks maybe even days from now,
You will look back and think to yourself:
Hey. I'm still alive.
and you will be happy about that.
Even if the pain doesn't stop,
it will eventually ease, and you will be happy.
The difference between how far you've come and surviving this is just one more step. And one more step and another until you look back to where you stand right now and wave, because there is a world where you have already survived this.
Although it seems now like walking across the ocean,
On the other shore of this calamity,
You are waving to yourself, saying
Hey
You're still alive
You got this.

I'm not generally an angry person,
in fact I find it to be a particularly
foolish emotion.

Sometimes though...
Sometimes my heart pumps lava.
Sometimes my fingernails leave imprints on my palm.
Sometimes my jaw cramps from clenching my teeth.
Sometimes someone parks their car
at the one and only diesel pump,
leaving me to circle the little fuel islands.
Staring out my windshield with the eyes of a shark.
Why? Why must you park at the only diesel pump?
Where? Where the **** is this guy?
How? How do you just ******* walk away?
When? When are they gonna ******* move?
Who? Who the **** does this kind of thing?

Then they come striding out
from the convenience store,
they catch me staring them down,
then I just smile
And wave.

Anger is foolish.

Stage one is just “hello.”


A relationship has many steps;
Like the staircase to hell, those steps are complicated.
Hello introduces the the idea of fear, love, hate, laughs.
Greetings are the sticks and paper to a crackling bonfire.
No going back on crackle snap pop rocks sending love to intermediate joker cards.
Boy am I a wild card, I’ll play you like a game of cards.
But only at stage 3.
Stage one is just hello.

Step 2 is the Talk Stage.
Speaking is hard sometimes.
Talking can be a metaphor, like roses blooming in moonlight...
Or rain water sinking into the soil.
Step 2 is better described, though, as
setting tones of color into your outline.
Learning to play but there's no instructions,
Mapping our minds and beliefs.

Stage 3 is when I burn us alive,
Bonfire friendship roasting our skin, crackly giggles and pinky-red smirks.
But we’re only at stage one, baby.
No screaming, shouting, reaching for our hearts...

Stage one is just hello.

When I have decided
To write
About my life
I took a pencil
To write
  But I lost the fight.
My pencil was blunt.
I fetched around
I found a blade.
Closer to a plant.
I should write
About my inner fight.
A war between the wrong and right.
I cut my palm
Feeling so calm.
Drops of blood fell on the ground
Took the shape of something round.
My heart replied
That's life.
Look around
Something could be found.
I sighed
They have all lied.
Life is just two days.
One day for you
And the other day is against you.
My pencil shouted.
No need to write
If you know how to fight.
Fight your negative feelings
Tomorrow is going to be full of blessings.
Life is a song
Entitled
Be strong
Did I say anything wrong?