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 Mar 2014 awallflower
iridescent
These teeth that have not been ground to ashes do not belong to me.
This tongue I bite when I fall asleep in class is not mine either.

Images of how things many weeks later may turn out never fails to hijack my mind and scratch at the seams. It tears me inside out, but doesn’t really. I feel watchful eyes that make my face scrunch up involuntarily. I end up tightening my jaws to straighten the emotions on my face.
It’s funny how the crowd takes my breath away, when my breath is not mine.

People scream when they drown, I just hope that no one will see me struggling. I will not drown anyway. I don’t bite my nails but I dig them into my palms and I thought I might have drawn some of the lines there-  maps that lead to nowhere. My heart is on a leash that Anxiety keeps tugging on. And I think as it tried to writhe out of Anxiety’s grip, it thought it had to get out of me too. An animal that has gone crazy living in exile clawing at ivory cage bars. Sometimes I hate my heart for beating and giving Anxiety the chance to feed toxins. I told my Mother I have chest pains, but I wouldn’t see a doctor. And sometimes I like to think that I almost touched death. I guess what they call the calm in a storm is the comfort I get from knowing a beast resides in my chest.
Even then, it is not mine.

Inhale, exhale. I can’t even do it right. It does nothing at all. My neck has been so stiff trying to look like I’ve been sitting in a comfortable position. My limbs twitches and I hope nobody saw. I like to tell myself it was just me battling Anxiety who was trying to sever me. As I tried to focus on what is in front, my eyelid twitches. Well, it didn’t have to remind me for the predicament I’m in.
My body is not mine.

My bones turn soft when everyone is watching I thought I might crumble.  Instead, I shake. And they think I’m shy, but it’s just that when I speak, I am afraid they might never understand the tangled words that hide under my breath. My head is so heavy I can barely think straight. I lost my voice when I never screamed.  There is too much air in my stomach. I had to release them or I might just implode altogether. I’ve been gulping too much air. I have no idea. I can smell the cheese I chewed on just now. And I hope the other passengers on the bus could not. If only I could swallow anxiety whole. It lingers. Anxiety strips me to my bare bones. But my bones are not mine.
I am Anxiety’s.

Anxiety has friends, but I don’t. And sometimes he brings them along. Fear, Depression; whoever you might name. They have time up their sleeves.
And I don’t.

I say I have the strength to fight them,
but it all seems too much like a physical flaw.
Anxiety is not just about attacks. It’s about everything it slowly takes away. You don’t even know you’re losing it until you couldn’t find it anymore. It’s about everything you could’ve had. It’s about not having the voice to even be asked to be excused to the bathroom because it takes much less energy to bear the pain in your stomach than to find your voice. Anxiety takes over your body. Anxiety takes away your voice. Anxiety changes you. Anxiety makes you, not you. Anxiety steals your name. I cringe at Anxiety. And I cringe at my name.
 Mar 2014 awallflower
Alaska
It burns.
Badly.
The burning sensation
Can take over and ****.
But  you begin to like the burn.
Even crave it sometimes.
It's the kind of pain you secretly love.
Kind of like when you hurt someone you love,
Or when someone you love hurts you.
You know it's bad.
You know it's wrong.
But you just can't stop.
Because even though it's awful,
Even though it's painful,
Even though it's lethal,
It all hurts so good.

{alaska}
A surgeon at the end of his day,
Careless cuts, it's just a brain,
They all just said to hope and pray,
Those careless cuts, won't leave a stain,

We spend our time watching the clock,
Barely touching, with pistols cocked,
I'll pull your trigger if you pull mine,
The blood stains will wash out with time,

That's what I told her before she left,
Noose tied tight, gasping for breath,
Distance evident, by the growing lack of conversation,
Those careless cuts, a careless operation.
 Mar 2014 awallflower
Sjr1000
I'm dying
I said to my wife
she said you're right.
She never did editorialize.

I'm dying
I said to my children
my children said
you're funny dad
way too wild.

I'm dying
I said to my job
They smiled
Your job
we have others
we can rob.

I'm dying
I said to the redwoods
they laughed out loud
your life span is the same as a cow.

I'm dying
I said to the owl
the owl said
who not you.

I'm dying
I said to my truth
My truth said
no doubt.

I'm dying
I said to my life
my life said
you're next.
Who are you to determine if a person is good or bad?

‘Good’ people may do bad things for good reasons;

‘bad’ people may do good things for good reasons.

Unless you feel targeted or have been personally, honestly affected , then you have no legitimate excuse or reason for judging ANY other human being.

Even then, compassion and empathy can overcome whatever surface emotions you experience...

Give yourself a chance to be the level- headed, objective and humane soul you know you can be and have been.

Because at some point, I'm sure you had felt it in yourself,
that light- pure goodness;
whether it was while listening a bouncing baby's cheerful melody of coos,
when you rescued a homeless pup,
Or willingly helped a senior with a task-

Something must have allowed you to tap into your true peace, the moment you find it, keep it, access it and let it guide you in everyday life.

I believe in following your instincts - there are no room for doubts...especially self doubts.
Blatantly, if you don't believe and have faith in yourself ,
how could you possibly expect someone else to?

Be confident- and that can only happen if you
understand yourself,
love yourself,
encourage yourself,
respect and take care of  yourself
and to remember that you don't NEED anyone but *yourself


Most people don't realize it but if anyone sends negative energy to you- through words, actions or insinuations-
That you can simply refuse to accept it and maintain your own positive energy,
leaving you *unaffected
,
pleasant and in control of your own emotions.

If you process rapidly, you'd be able to see that whatever that person may say or do has nothing to do with you- It's just a reflection of their feelings towards themselves

( e.g calling someone ugly because you truly feel ugly in a different way, of course you wouldn't be able to see the beauty of another when you don't appreciate and understand your own inner beauty...so you throw those emotions at someone else because you are stuck on surface thinking and want a 'quick fix'
Well, quick fixes are the worst, with anything!


I was 15 when a classmate threw insults my way but I understood they were because of her insecurities.
I told her and I remember because after, she just looked straight at me she didn't have to say anything,
I just knew she didn't mean it and that she was sorry.
I saw it in her eyes. . .
I said "That's not a very nice thing to tell someone... you don't know what I could be going through right now, but hey, I believe I'm a beautiful soul and I've been around you for quite some time and I can safely say I believe you are too, I hope you deal with whatever you're going through right now and beat it..."
She was still just looking at me...so i said "It's okay, I forgive you"

We never became good friends because I'm picky with my close friends but from then on, she always greeted me pleasantly and never said a bad thing against me ever again  :D  
- high school win!, drama and conflict averted-

Forgiveness can lead to wonderful outcomes.
Try it right now!
Start with yourself!
Forgive yourself right now for something that you are not proud of.
You'll feel lighter...literally too, somehow, you feel the weight off of you.
If you feel that, Your mind found a bit of peace. <3



Back to first topic-->

Yes, we are entitled to our own opinions, if it won't do any good, keep those opinions to yourself.

God is the judge of you, YOU are the judge of you.

Which is the same thing because we are a fraction of God.

Our souls are reflections of God.

To love yourself is to love God.
To insult another person is to insult God.
For God exists in everyone and everything..

YOu can't change people....you can only change yourself.

Everything....starts ...with...YOU!

- March, 3rd, 2014   4:00 am.
Scattered thoughts like leaves in Fall.
 Mar 2014 awallflower
rj
Twenty-One
 Mar 2014 awallflower
rj
One cut feel some pain
Two cuts to hit a vein
Three cuts you're feeling okay
Four cuts for the ****** day
Five cuts your blood flows like a river
Six cuts you shake and quiver
Seven cuts 'what's one more'?
Eight cuts there's a puddle on the floor
Nine cuts you've got a huge ****
Ten cuts you think it's just another cut
Eleven cuts when you get you're relief
Twelve cuts this one extra deep
Thirteen cuts you think you should be done
Fourteen cuts you will make another one
Fifteen cuts for being a failure
Sixteen cuts you still go deeper
Seventeen cuts you can't feel
Eighteen cuts the blood doesn't seem real
Nineteen cuts tears fall as your body does too
Twenty cuts your lips start to turn blue
Twenty-one cuts your mission is finally complete
You're laying in blood as you fall asleep.
 Mar 2014 awallflower
iridescent
There is another world inside my head.
Tsunamis with a darker shade of red.
I do not wish for every wave that crash ashore to corrode my skull.
I liked the sound of the sea.

But I would grate every inch of my skin till it is paper thin.
I detest these ribs that cages my heart like a prisoner.
I detest this heart that never skipped a beat.
I detest these shoulders that keeps weighing down on me.
My feet have already made a home six feet under.
I want to dig every filth out of my veins.
I hate that I'm making it hard for myself to breathe.
I want to throw away every thought that ever passes my mind
not of death, but of people dying.
People touches my raw nerve so easily
Sometimes I shake

And I hate that every crevice in my mind tells me
someone dripping with self-loathe could be poetic.
With words in a garden of thorns that the tsunami fed.
I would pour my insides out but they'd make such a mess.
 Feb 2014 awallflower
Theia Gwen
To be loved by a writer
Is to be immortalized
You will live on forever in her writing
Your quirks,
Your ideas,
Your insecurities,
Writers notice everything
And we never forget
You might catch her smiling at you
For what seems like no reason at all
But she's just trying to describe
The exact color of your eyes

To be loved by a writer
Is to have your entire relationship in written word
All you have to do is read and re-live everything again
Your first kiss,
Your first fight,
Your first date
Nostalgic memories in chronological order
And you may even learn something you never knew
Since everything will be in her point of view

To be loved by a writer
Is to see her frustration
Because she wishes she could be an artist
Since no words serve you justice
She wishes she could just paint a picture
And then they would understand
Because no amount of words could perfectly depict
Your hair sticking up,
Your abundance of freckles,
You wearing glasses
She gets upset when she thinks
She'll never fully portray all the things you say and do
But she'll never run out of ways to say "I love you"

To be loved by a writer
Is to be eternal
And to never fully disappear
And no matter what, she'll see you everywhere
Even when she opens her mind and escapes reality
Because she is the writer
And you are her writing
For you own her heart
From which her words flow
I'll probably edit this one later. I was inspired by 'A Dedication' by Lang Leav. Also inspired by my Nicholas, who indeed, looks very dashing in glasses.
 Feb 2014 awallflower
ASB
promise me,
you said,
promise you'll be happy*
and I did,
and I promised to love you
and to breathe without you
and whatever else you needed
to hear
and I kept my promises, I did,
but my god, if missing you
could be measured in tears
I could fill
and refill
every ocean.
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