I'm writing this piece because I lack peace of mind. I seem to be lost and there's no hope to what I can truly find.
Empty, dull, uneventful Tired, broken, distasteful Conflicted, numb and just downright exhausted.
I'm trying to take a break from everything that reminds me of how hollow I am. But it requires slipping into isolation. I've heard quite a lot of stories about how dangerous a path it is. It's just that I can't help it. I find no reason in myself, just a lot of trapped cages in my heart. A lot of mental walls, barriers to my name.
I feel pain, I feel an overwhelming amount of pain, heavily weighing me down. I need escape, I need solidarity. But that means losing the little that I have and end up with nothing.
Naturally, instinctively that's daunting. But I'm trying to love myself.
I'm trying so hard. But it doesn't feel good enough. I keep trying to open up to myself but I end up building so many walls. I... I find it difficult to finish this poem because I don't want to be true to myself
Bear with me for a few minutes or throughout majority of the poem. There’s some writers block with me. Yet there’s a need deeper than my subconscious to write about you. A wholesome want that needs not be subliminal.
Each word, each syllable drips baring truth. No seduction, no romance or any other double entendre. It’s just a need to write, not for you but to write and it happens that you are the subject.
Growth comes with its formality. Change opens our eyes to reality. And the whole process either makes or breaks our mentality. Not really sure whether you’re afloat or being pulled down by gravity. That’s just the whole nature of being an entity.
Empty, sometimes growth leads to that. Hollow, a formidable pit that keeps getting deeper. It drags you but then again what can be done? You’re just a life seeker. Trying to get more, to feel more just without the ruckus of pain.
A turmoil, You roll and roll and spin and wonder why am I moving so much, so fast? It’s a process. Never mind feeling confusion. It’s just an illusion. Or a way of getting your mind to really look at things.
I hope I didn’t lose you. Because often in search of truth we get lost. And no I am no truth but I’ll bring you honesty.
Consequences. No more, no less than the word guilt. We live in it, sometimes take pleasure in it. But primarily grow because that is it’s end game. Growth.
Self awareness. Look in the mirror and appreciate, not what is outside or inside but what is you. Because growth is that, appreciation of self.
Incomplete. A feeling so deafening, so loud and corrupt. A feeling that can just be so abrupt to your conscious. And so for that be cautious.
The mind requires freedom and love. Love from yourself and freedom from your negative self. Only then can you truly feel growth. And only then can you see yourself past the pain and tribulations.
“Don’t you ever get tired of being the savior?” “Because I don’t think anyone will ever love you properly anymore”
All you ever needed was someone to stop you from being hero. Someone to tell you to break down and help you not feel hallow. Who’s here to watch you? To tell you that “I’m your shoulder to cry on”
Who’s there to protect you. Guide and wrap you tight in the softest hugs? To embrace your broken battered soul and help you feel less empty? Why must your strength force you to pay the price so hefty?
“Give me the chance to not only be your protector but your lover. Let me Take care of you, let me be the one to do all that you have done, I know your soul is broken, that your mindset is shattered. So give yourself to me and gladly allow for my catering”
All that should be Yet here lies my ego. Standing tall, representing pride. While my soul wilts and my heart darkens to my reality.
“I’m not worth saving”
I want to be loved just as much as I can love someone
We’ve been living together for the past three months. And as time moved you invited you friends such as anxiety, self hate and doubt to mess with me. As the times become now it seems these visitors are now the landlords of my soul.
Depression, as I write with all that I have left. You have won. But I will return for what is me.
Give me an approximate of Thirty. Slipping in the deep sea of corporate. Slowly losing self, I feel *****. Searching for a balance, it’s not moderate.
My soul wanders aimlessly, My mind searches timelessly. My heart hasn’t gotten around this.
My eyes are lost in Sea, Trying to look beyond the blue. Trying to look for a reality that isn’t so solemn.
As I write to you. I hope that the truth of my voice can still be found. I pray that my work will continue and that my hands and heart still itch to write.
My reality remains distorted. Gruntled and dismantled by new environments. I need an escape, I need the Earth to call to my soul. My chakras are dusty. My lungs are burning. My throat has gone dry.
Change becomes inevitable. As it is a process of finding who you are. But my body twists and turns and looks to this unravel and refuses. “Cleanse your system” “You are spiritual not corporate”
And so you called. You sang to me the wonders of the soul. You took me, and we travelled. My soul felt freedom. And now I write to you my truth.
My perception of truth lies in colour. Drastically moving and molding into more. Evolving into a greater theory than that of Darwin’s My truth distorts reality, it gravitates you away from society. And frees your mindset from sobriety. It awakens you to the cult situation of life. This reality. It’s so vague with optimism It’s so drizzled with pessimism. This reality? It is not one for us.
Listen to my will, draw out your soul and feed from me. Let my wisdom mold with yours. Let our visions be two for one.
Your energies burn with curiosity. Dive deep and stay below. Explore till your breath cannot. Open your eyes underwater, fear nothing and feel the burn of your intrigue.
Find your truth near mine. And discover reality further from it.
Shall I compare thee to a winders breeze? Thou art more cool and clement Thou art more shinier than the nights stars. Tis the day they know The day that they realise how it is you that I cannot fathom.
You have always whispered to me the true nature of the world. Your energy radiating a voice so pure, A voice so humbly harmonized A voiced groomed to perfection, A sound so perfectly aligned, moved by the hands that have orchestrated. A sound that has raised my soul through its perfect symphonies.
Shall I say that the winds have whispered to me? Shakespeare has driven me to an era so old. An era so new. An era for hope.
Travel with me. Let us move to the Victorian lifestyle Let us challenge Science, philosophy and the wonders of what is now. Dive into this lifestyle. And let us compare then to now. Shakespearean to Victorian.