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Quietly, now,
the words settle in my brain
with softer edges than before.
Shapes your mouth made
piece together, delicately, now
I look for the cause.

Patiently, now,
I hear your voice in pastel tones:
my spectrum blurs the shout.
A storm I only helped grow
settles silently, now
my eyes are on the ground.

Carefully, now,
I keep my own shades pale
enough to match yours.
Words coming out faint,
we sit, quietly, now
I understand the score.
With hands over these eyes, the view is blurred
To nothing but a glimpse through fingertips.
A monster from our nightmares bites his lips
And holds back sounds that should be heard,
Making paths grow dark and silent here on Earth.
We plunge into the solace of its grips,
And soon enough the world around us slips-
But sprouting in the darkness; we find Words.

At first we force them out, but quickly find
The monster that we bred can’t quite hold on.
Then Words come pouring freely from our minds;
Our sight is clearing up, in this new dawn.
We’ve made it here together, our fight for life;
One more breath into our lungs and we’re reborn.
Not the first, nor hundredth view inside.
Masks forgotten with departed boundaries,
Tied through inner worlds and silenced words;
Stripped. Of everything but a shadowed view of depth.

With this, a fall into bottomless fragility.
A glittering lock of unknown vulnerability;
A naked tether. Souls on show.
An illuminance playing in purity below.

Outlines blurred of who, or what, we are,
With memories brought ashore in tidal waves.
After learning to float, succumb to the intricate sway
Of days spent glimpsing our reality.
My heart fills around you, up and up and up.
Until the overflow, filling my entire anatomy.
Pouring out of eye sockets, rain down a window;
Clear yet clouded. My body heavy,
I sink in my own creation, oceans of doubt.

You, my anchor, grounding me. Drowning me.
You, my Sun, the light above the waves.
You make the water glow as I edge down.
No struggle. No breath. I float under it all.

My eyes wide shut, I see you floating with me.
Taking my hand and pouring breath into my lungs;
You sink. Arm outstretched but palm tight shut.

Now, I see the Sun falling into my darkest creation,
And using all the breath you gave me; I lift us back to shore.

Treading water in new stillness, we float.
Do we happen to life or does life happen to us? How do we know what the **** we can trust when our minds can't conclude whether something's enough but tears fall from our face with no thoughts to their name and we feel like we should be starting over again. Another attempt at a life gone one way, without the slightest idea where I think it should be. It's all the same. There's still sun, there's still rain, there's still pain. But no mix of the three can explain this lock in my brain. Am I here? Am I lost? Am I okay with this loss of walls hidden behind far too long to hold on. Are they gone? Or am I? We're all going to die and I want to look back and be pleased with my life. So I'll hold my breath tight and dive into a path with no clue if it's right and just trust that I must have some say in my fight. Being human means confusion and an illusion of time we spend trying to find our own way into the light. And why? Because no one has a clue but we like to think we do and that's what's on all of our minds at the end of the night. After days where we run until our lungs collapse in hope we can find a place where we can see the maps of the world and the life that happens right before our eyes. How simple it looks and how I hate to despise but this world I see right in front of me isn't a scratch on the pain wanting to break free. It screams and I dream I can get it all out but the best I can do is reluctantly numb it or shout "Why the **** is this me?" This is not what I want to be defined by but no matter what I try it arrives and it's bigger than before, not ready to be ignored, so how the **** do I find more? I'm ready to hit the floor running again. I'm not sure if this is the beginning or the end.
A soul searching for an answer and finding it within whilst still sat up wondering what the **** the question is. If I hit this wall, my skin'll try to crawl, but will I find a smile hiding under it all? And yes, it's all 'okay', but is that how I want it to be? The beauty of pain missing as I crawl through happy days. Is living enough? Or do we need more than love? We need the sting of touching fire or we'd be born with ******* gloves. I mean- yes, I'm 'happy', but is that the point? I guess it's pretty stupid that I think I'm annoyed at being human in general, it's wonderfully mad and I can't complain with the life I've had. And yes, living is great. It's the best thing I do, but isn't it strange how sometimes you kind of want to lose? It's all just a game at the end of the day, and if losing wasn't an option it'd be a ******* boring game to play.
So we make our own rules, add snakes to balance ladders and keep our minds amused. But what's the use? When unhappy feels bad but all happy just screws us. You drown it in *****; the need for something new. After all, we're only human and it ******* confuses us. A craving for a day when we can feel our infinity, ignoring the human races basic stupidity and in reality we just end up making ourselves feel ******. At least we're ******* feeling, the highs and the lows, trying to find the balance and let go of the blows.
"Go with the flow." we whisper through jaws clamped tight shut, not even allowing the words to stay put in our mouths while we're pondering how to be satisfied through brains built on doubt. That's the human condition and in itself it has beauty, but that doesn't mean i have to enjoy the way we see. Stumbling along in an attempt to find some freedom, but when we're trapped by our form it's us that gets beaten and I've found myself lost now I'm craving to feel, not caring if it's pain as long as it's real. A knot in the stomach of life through our eyes, that begs us for more if we can't find the time for excitement in our lives. I want to adventure, to fall and to climb, feel the waves of emotion that come with it; thrive after the dive, to find some perspective underneath conditioned lies. And why? Because as soon as I feel like I'm stuck in routine, it bites me in the **** and makes me want to scream. We need ******* more in our days and our nights, the essence of passion that brings us to life. So **** it to 'normal' and **** it to 'fine', I'll find my peace in the fall to the fire between the lines.
When the ego finds its way into control,
Remember how a tree lives as it grows.
With beauty in its stillness, strength and soul,
We see how nature finds a way to over-throw
The concepts of the mind we blindly trust.
When searching for our inner peace we must
Remember just how we are nature too;
Just like the tree cannot forget to grow,
We can’t forget to breathe while life flows through.
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