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Its nothing,
I know.
But its too much,
Though I wont show.
Inside,
Im butterflies swirling in a storm.
Outside,
Only visible are the fake smiles my lips form.
Help me,
But I dont know how.
Leave me,
Its nothing new now.
when stress and overthinking overtake you from the inside, even though you know its all ok. and nobody notices because you dont let them. even though you want to, you cant.
i read
an article
on self-realisation
today
about how
we are an echo
of the universe
and how
we can use
that awareness
to unlock
   our greatness

it stated that
an echo
is merely
a vibration
bouncing
from point
   to point
across an expanse
it explained that
all objects
throughout the universe
pulsate
   with energy
and
that all objects
are a manifestation
of energy;
therefore
we are
nothing more
than clusters
   of energy
vibrating
bouncing
ricocheting
through space
and time

over time
echoes weaken
and fade
into nothingness
returning to
the universe's preferred
state of equilibrium
that cosmic balance
between order
   and chaos
which existed
long before
our disturbance
and will surely
return again

the article
was meant to be
an aid for
practicing
   inner peace
but it seems
i may have
missed
   the point
How strange that we get to be here at the same moment
And destroy it all so quickly.
Centuries lead up to this meeting, just for it to be a flame that swiftly licked itself out.
Like clockwork.
How strange that we can hurt each other so deeply during the short time we are here together.

The human condition is odd,
I’ve never known it to understand itself the way it should.
How unsettling that we should think in an existence full of collisions, explosions, and perfect chaos, we could align in perfect harmony.
The mere thought of perfect peace should have scared us. But somehow the sheer thought of chaos and uncertainty did.

The natural flow of life is often dredged in illusion.

And as pawns, we coated ourselves in disillusion.

Murphy’s law is neither proven or disproven,
but, as of now, I think we stand as it’s strongest piece.

When will we learn?
sadat24, sometime soon things will change, a poets heart means being sad even when he cant admit it
Darlingerode Apr 11
maybe i was wrong
when i believed
that it should age
like a fine wine
because sometimes,
it's only good
when it started.
Alienpoet Mar 30
There is no room for gods
for angels and hope
for wings of flight
and depth of field
this defensive arms want to yield
and this scarred heart wants to heal

There is no room
for imagination
under the weight of these books
the text fills me up
no devils cup
no drugs or substances can free my mind
the weight of the world is unkind
and the sub titles aren’t signed
and chaos has died in my mind
or it’s been set free
I can’t escape I just don’t want to be…
In the brooding light, you were formed.
You were born in clouds and dust, and you grew up in the luminous sky.
You were scattered throughout the different parts of the galaxy.
You are trillions of miles away,
yet still visible to the naked eye.

As the star gradually evolves and forms
into different entities,
it is either a planet, an asteroid, or a nebula —
or even just a speck of dust and never formed.

It is also the start of your
long, deep slumber.
While in the intergalactic space in your eyes,
gravity pulls back the gas and forms another one. And the galaxy is bathed in gas.

While you were out of breath, I talked to you.
So you can hear your friend in the dark.
Your death is also the birth of another celestial space.
Between the illustrious energy and gravity's back-and-forth,
recycling gases and turning them into a new form of galaxy,
it is like the way you breathe in and out —
while your eyes are closed.

Did you wear an evening gown?
While the patients here wear something ridiculous, you can't stand it.
So you wore a red dress in your deep, restless sleep.

Tonight, I looked over the moon and remembered you.
They called upon the universe and they gave you space.
You were there, starlike.
I gave you one last message before I turned my back.

I will always put my faith in the phenomenon of celestial space.

Then you held my hand, so slow and weak.

You told me, and I smiled, "In the chaos of everything, I heard you."

And another star exploded, but you lived.
Letting go of old things. I’m back :)
This word called love—
let’s dig deep
into the soil of it
and plant a seed,
of trust.

If only for a little while,
bear witness.
Give no fear.
Smell the dirt.
Feel all of it,
the gritty,
and the grand.
Hear the earth’s confession.

Take the pain inside
and grab its hand.
Gather up every piece—
the chaos and the stardust,
and smile.

The sun rises again.
It’s about never forgetting about where you came from, even if it’s from a dark place. Anyone can plant the seeds of something brighter. The sun always rises.
Eloisa Jan 19
You
Embraced my chaotic waves
My mess after madness and
Braved my sullen storm
Reaching out your hands to
Accept the broken me
Calming my hysteric nerves and
Eagerly sailed along  
Deep in the darker side of me

Mysterious our horizon may be
Even in these surges of uncertainty

My soul felt a different you
Only one who truly understands
Ripples of memories behind, that
Even my dimmest night will end
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