You have to accept that some people are not made for deep conversations, or for holding you together when you’re about to fall apart, or for keeping you from unzipping your skin, or for talking you out of suicide, or to love you through the worst moments of your life.

Some people are made for shallow exchanges, and ridiculous banter, and nothing more. And that’s okay. That doesn’t make them horrible people because they simply aren’t able to handle a storm like you. It doesn’t make you a bad person because you won’t divulge all the gritty details of your horror show. It makes you smart.

You have to accept that there will be people that cannot give you what you need. It doesn’t mean they are not worth keeping in your life. You just have to figure out who these ones are before you’re disappointed. And you have to keep them at arm’s length. You cannot expect everyone in your life to understand, to be nonjudgmental, to get it.

But that’s okay, because not everyone was made to impart wisdom, or wax poetry, or speak on politics and the depravity of society, or discuss how crucial it is that the stigma of mental illness be abolished. There are times when you have to get away from all that heaviness. You have to. And you will need superficial conversation about Kim Kardashian’s ****, or a debate on the colour of The Dress. You will need those ones.

So don’t go round cutting people off and dropping your friends. You need people for all your seasons. You need people or you won’t survive this.


When I think of my kids now,
I so much want to say things
that I know I won't,
like, please for your protection,
try not to feel too much.
If you can't help it,
you may find that
life comes at you like
a left hook...a broken doll,
a rotten tooth.
I'm sorry I failed you,
I would trade it all,
everything I own or ever
could possess, for your smiles,
and deep true laughter.
May you never know brutality
or ferocious things.
I'd rather you get
dog bit than hope and
feel heart sickness.
Find someone who holds
you tight and
doesn't let go.
The woods do in a pinch,
but they can't touch
you with flesh wrapped
bones that cherish your hearts.

My poor kids,
your crazy father loved you the
best he could.
Don't ever let anyone
**** your light;
always hold on;
there is beauty in the ride,
often too much.
You might feel like
a stranger or an alien,
it's supposed to be like that.
Often it feels like
a lump in your
throat that won't go down.

Wear sunglasses, they
help with the glare...the sharpness,
and remember,
some flowers are edible.

Your Gift
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

Counsel, console.
This is your gift.
Calm, kiss and encourage.
Tenderly lift
each world-wounded heart
from its fatal dart.
Mend every rift.
Bid pain, “Depart!”
Save every sorrow
for your own untaught heart.

can someone teach me
how to take my own advice?

because i've been
telling others
to swim ashore
as i drown

Head is pounding
Palms are sweating
My face burns hot
My alarm is sounding
You say, one thing at a time
I say, I'm fine.

All the planets surround the Sun
But what happens when that system starts to break
When the stable circling cannot withstand
Suddenly things aren't so fun
You say, it'll fall in line
I say, I'm fine

Sound structures start crumbling
The tiny splits in the ground,
Turn to unfixable gashes
All the insides come tumbling
You say, it'll improve over time
I say, I'm fine

When the storm has passed
Flimsy bandages cover the wounds
Circles go back to “normal”
You knew it wouldn't last
Yet you say it's a good sign
I say I'm still fine

But what you don't understand
About the inside remains on the ground
Is it's the start of me holding it all in again
That burst wasn't planned
You say it fell back in line
I say, I'm fine

The power of counsel  
One not to be abused
A beautiful agreement
Yet not to be confused
With a heartfelt connection
That vulnerable synergy
Helping you is my addiction
But in the end, whats left?
Just me.

They said I blew
it out of proportion.
I was told to let it go
so I did the mature thing
and looped an uptight string  
around its neck, strangled
it in a vexed snaggle,
before setting it free
to float. I let it go;
(though, not really).

Good advice must be broken
into bite sized pieces
so as to avoid choking
on its well-meaning intent.

Now,
I carry it with me every day
but it is a weight off my shoulders.
They say it suits me.
I agree.
What a facetious accessory it is –  
maturity!

Prince Charming pulled your sanity to the ground to keep his crown perfect.