Anger wells inside me like a brewing storm.
But I am not a violent person so I don't know what to do.
The agitation makes me want to break things, but it'll be me who has to clean it up so I refrain.
So I don't let it loose and now it is concentrated and pulsing through my body.
I want to scream.
But I sit, boiling over in silence.
Maybe I will never love them as much as they love me.
Where did my love go?
Did I use it up on the ocean, trees and inanimate things?
Maybe I will never care for them as much as they care for me.
Although I want to, my efforts will be futile.
For I need to learn how to care at all, if only just for me.
But if it always ends in heartbreak what's the ******* point?
the mirror lies
that is not I,
staring back at me.
my own reflection
caught in windows
with the features seen
on her face.
she looks deeper
into pupils dialated
we dont recognise
Please remember, you are beauty.
Moulded by the hands of the ones you love.
Carved by the tools of those you despise.
Sculpted by the ancients who inspire you.
Glazed with joy and laughter.
Fired by the flames of passion.
And displayed for all to admire.
Please remember, my dear, you are art of the purest form.
When my eyes are open
I can see this intricate, layered, sculpture in all its coloured and textured glory. I can see the colours of light, the shades of darkness. But sometimes vision is overwhelming. Sometimes I need to turn that sense off, to focus on the rest.
When my eyes are closed
I can feel more intensely, I can feel sounds as if they originate from the depths of my being. Bubbling up and oozing out of my perceived edges, dissolving them in the quest to be heard. If I listen long enough, eventually I become the sound, all sound, the wind, the insects, vehicles, children playing, the washing machine. It all comes out of the same silence that is at my very core.
I can see further with my eyes closed.
Scream the silent scream, because you are too polite to inconvenience others.
Dream the lucid dream, because it's easier to influence than this reality.
If you wish to worship something
look deep into your soul
find the flowers that grow there
and revel in their beauty.
When they perish
cover their seeds in your soil
and water them with your tears.
Next season they will be more beautiful than ever.