Insignificance is a relative term
The pessimistic thoughts that pass through our heads…
The thoughts that say:
We are not good enough,
We do not matter,
We are insignificant
These are all just thoughts
Controlled by you
A person,
Who can make choices and decisions,
And although you may not be able to change the world as a whole
You can change those insignificant little thoughts
Because a person is more than what you think
They are one of seven billion, but how big is seven billion really?
And the world that you truly live in is made up of much, much less
So the next time you think you aren't enough
Remember that it’s you who controls whether you feel like enough or not.
And when I feel like I’m drowning and I can’t breathe during the day,
And all I want to do is crawl up in a ball in my house and cry and feel and be left alone
I have to be reminded how much I’m worth
Because even if we don’t know it,
We are all worth something
Even if sometimes we make mistakes
Even if sometimes we hurt ourselves to let people know we aren't fine
Even if we feel like we’re nothing
We aren't*
Because although the world is a hateful and horrible awful place full of ignorance and judgment,
There are still lights and halos and happiness and there’s laughter too in there
There’s babies being born, people getting married, and random acts of kindness being done
There are cookies and baklava and puppies
There are young lovers and happy children and sweet singing
There’s music and art and love being made
And although the babies may be still, the couples may get divorced, and the acts of kindness may be empty
The cookies may be burnt, the baklava old, and the puppies dead
The young lovers may break each other’s hearts, the happy children may grow up and the sweet singing stopped
The music may be sad, the art distasteful and the love not true
It doesn't matter because all these things are part of life
And all of these things were done by people
And you’re a person
So I’d say that’s pretty ******* awesome.

Uncorrupt,
Yield to the temptation within,
I try to mask under
my pale flaky skin.

There is nothing
you can do anymore.
You're fleeing from the ones
you love.

And in silence,
You mourn the lost.
Grieving over the ones
you left alone.

Taste the bitterness,
in your throat.
It swells in you,
and erupts...

The snow flakes fall
and I long to be exposed,
Because when they touch
it rips through the web.

And uncorrupt sins,
They speak, they scream.
They don't forget,
I won't forget.

Pay attention.

Pay attention to this moment;
To the sounds, to the lights,
To the colors in the the sky.

Pay attention to your thoughts;
To the world inside you,
And the way it guides you.

Pay attention to your feelings;
To the joy and the tears,
To the hopes and the fears.

Pay attention to your heart;
To the way that it beats,
To the rhythm it keeps.

Pay attention to your life...

The future already happened,
You're just learning the story.

Accept it. Let it run through you.

Let Love overfill your heart,
Let Light overglow your soul,
Let Hope overrule your fear,
Let New overtake the old.

This is your life;
You're doing your best.
Decide that today
Will outshine the rest.

I do not know you.
But I love you.
And if you really pay attention,
You'll feel it, too.

In the First Kingdom, you find the following... a wave and a cataract for swallowing
and shabby hats.
In the Second Kingdom, Jules Verne hates broccoli and the moon is made of lost keys.
In the Third Kingdom, God knows why you keep breathing while He holds His Breath.
In the Fourth Kingdom, there's nothing There.
In the Fifth Kingdom, Nothing comes after Four.
In the Sixth Kingdom, your hands have a score to settle with the Architect, but you have no hands.
In the Seventh Kingdom,you're naked all the time and every one makes love to you.
In the Eighth Kingdom, the Devil is a Nancy Lad with no agenda
and a distorted corona. And Applebee's are Orange-hornets, thank you very much.
And this poem haunts your spleen.
In the Ninth, you were there
but then
we lost
you at
the
Fair.

and that was sweet.

it would never be this if it weren't for it really really is,
and you have no idea. and That keeps you sane where the truly mad are guessing the number of tad poles in the belly of a supernova. mumbling in the dark.
you have No idea.

now that we have established that you know what i mean by you have ideas
that are of little consequence
to your inertia..... ( pregnant pause )

could i *** a smoke ?
a ' *** ' if you're from some kinda
London, England ?

could this be the Apocalypse ?

could This ?

no gloom in the garden of death my son, just a hole in the sea
a late night snack on the sponge cake of transcendence.
a pristine oblivion. shackled to the jawbone of a golden ogre of rapture.
and the garden; a tip coin in a filthy hat.

on a corner with no street lamp.