LETTER FROM A MOTHER TO A DAUGHTER:

"My dear girl, the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through.
If when we talk, I repeat the same thing a thousand times, don’t interrupt to say: “You said the same thing a minute ago”... Just listen, please. Try to remember the times when you were little and I would read the same story night after night until you would fall asleep.
When I don’t want to take a bath, don’t be mad and don’t embarrass me. Remember when I had to run after you making excuses and trying to get you to take a shower when you were just a girl?
When you see how ignorant I am when it comes to new technology, give me the time to learn and don’t look at me that way... remember, honey, I patiently taught you how to do many things like eating appropriately, getting dressed, combing your hair and dealing with life’s issues every day... the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through.
If I occasionally lose track of what we’re talking about, give me the time to remember, and if I can’t, don’t be nervous, impatient or arrogant. Just know in your heart that the most important thing for me is to be with you.
And when my old, tired legs don’t let me move as quickly as before, give me your hand the same way that I offered mine to you when you first walked.
When those days come, don’t feel sad... just be with me, and understand me while I get to the end of my life with love.
I’ll cherish and thank you for the gift of time and joy we shared. With a big smile and the huge love I’ve always had for you, I just want to say, I love you... my darling daughter."
- Unknown

Remember what we looked like before we saw?
Remember how we saw,
before we achieved?
Remember the perseptions.
Remember how we understood.
We were infinite.
We understood.
We were connected.
Unexplainable realms,
divided our thoughts
yet the vibes brought us back
to the place that we wanted to be.
In circles these waves of wind wind.
Around all our internal states.
The few external traits,
picked up from only a few trained ears and eyes.
Perception has changed.
We look at this
connection
differently than what we could mearly just see before.
Now it's something more.
Spiritually and physically
more compelling
than anything that one could only just simply visualize.
You'd have to experience.
You'd have to feel.
This connection.
Those sources of understanding,
that bring us back
into the very same thought
that we first began with.
The circular path.
We call life.
It all just leads
to the same questioning
there was
when we first began asking the questions.
So why would we keep asking them?
It seems pointless to keep wondering
about how much something matters.
When in reality
it's not how much it matters to you.
But how much it meant to them. ...and this is what shrooms have taught us....

Manipulate me.
Wind your mind around my heart,
and wrap my soul into your thoughts.
Make me say yes when I’ve already decided no.
Take me into your arms and tell me everything’s going to be okay.
Tell me I’m beautiful, worth it;
when I am with you I am free.
Change my feelings with just a few words,
my mind with a look.

“It’s going to be okay,"
and "I am here for you."
"I love you.”
Get me to do anything you want,
anything you may need,
because I love you,
more than you say you love me.
Manipulate me.
My soul,
My heart,
and my body.
Manipulate my mind.
I love you and always will.
I will forever be yours.

The sounds that soak though our skin,
run through our viens,
pull together all emotion
we did not know how else to communicate.
Vibrate our bodies and
give us a reason.
Bond our minds.
Fuze together our souls.
Feed our energy.
Free us from our:
Past.
Present.
Future.
Time.

In my attempt to be clever and witty I have written you a poem.
For you to read and pick apart.
It will start with a catchy title that will then bring you to the opening sentence.
In my attempt to be clever and witty I have written you a poem.
If this poem catches your eye,
you will read Michelle Rose
to figure out worthiness of a follow or a like.
If this is uninteresting you won’t even bother to finish reading.
It will end with a clever remark that could be considered sarcasm,
just as the rest of the poem could have been.
You will then wonder to yourself, why did I just read that,
and what the hell is that second to last stanza supposed to mean?
Or maybe you won’t do any of this because you’re a normal person.
Did I just call you abnormal?

Sometimes I like to read in the dark too…

a clever remark that could be considered sarcasm,
Just as the rest of the poem could have been.

I wish you could see the world through my eyes.
Feel every emotion that I have ever felt.
Witness every drop of sweat that has ever exuded my pores.

I wish you could hear every word my mind has spoken
and edure every inch of my world.
My mind is a wall waiting to be broken down.
I wish, just once,
you could know me and how I work,
pull me apart.

you could let me into your life,
only after youve understood mine.

Reality is;
The real that ruins our hopes and dreams.
The reason we cannot live our most deep and creative thoughts.
Life in its dullest form.

Something for us to snap back to,
when dreams become too much.

Messing with the pleasing inspiration retained from existence.
Making the vivid thoughts we want to make true,
become buried with us.

Lying there in a mind once unrealistic; free.
Bombarded by the captivation of reality in its finest.

Boxed up and unknown.
These dreams, feelings, and pure creativity,
never heard or witnessed by another living being,
and never will be.

All because a little phrase known as reality,
corrupted the mind,
and interrupted its better half; unrealistically.