still deep black waters
hiding mysteries below
lilies bloom on top

We ponder our existence on the cliffs
                                               of thought,
shall we just gaze at the shallow waves
collecting grains of contemplation.

Or shall we dash our memories
                                    on the rocks of life.
But there is always another view reaching
                                      out to the distance,
And that one we gather our silent thoughts upon.

I need someone to talk to. Right now I am so broken and now I don't think I can go on any longer. I am in tears and I am hyperventilating. I can't really breathe and I need help. Please help me

I am a writer
I feel a lot too deeply
I take everything personally
I'm more creative than logical
I let my mind spell out the words
The pen is like another part of me
I don't leave without paper
I don't go outside a lot
And if I do it's for inspiration
To write

My mind is a whirlpool
Of feelings and words and thoughts
Every drop a different expression
Every expression a different poem
And every poem a different world
I don't ever turn my brain off
For it's the most important part of me
I can't, and I don't want to

I don't ever stop thinking-
analyzing,
observing,
exploring,
and creating
My brain is composed of worlds
Which I am more present in
Than my own

I'm silent because I'm thinking
I'm day-dreaming whenever
It's taking me time to learn how to trust,
but when I do let someone in
I love them enough
To immortalize them
By writing about them

I'm forgetful
But I remember everything
I'll forget the keys at home
Or the pasta that's cooking
But those are just small things
I remember words
And scents
And looks
And everything in between

All those little things
Make me a writer
And you might think I'm crazy
Always talking and always observing
But it's who I am.

Call me a writer.