When you lay there
thinking your life does not matter,
every exhalation meaningless
every unfaltered lub dub wasted.
Go out there
and make a difference in someone's life.

Help,
be compassionate
give yourself a sense of purpose.

Because it is then
when you will breathe life
into your life.

When you will find
yourself grounded and rooted
rather than swaying like the wind
and allowing time
to slip like grains of sand unnoticed.

Allow fluffy clouds
of magical wisps
to fill your head
and propel you forward
to fill you with color
and life.

So choose to bring peace and joy
to someone else and yourself
for you will not be just be surviving
but bringing significant difference
in your own beautiful way.
MG Dec 2018
I don't think they know..
How much it hurts to be me.
To haul the cross of others sins.
To be weighed down by the strain of others emotions.
I would rather drown just to keep them breathing.
Feeling like I am sacrificing my own self,
for the painlessness of others.
Never expecting recognition or gratitude,
Or anything else in return.
Maybe just some acknowledgement,
that I'm hurting too.
(maybe even more than you)
the first thing I've wrote about me.
Anne Jul 2018
Many acts of generous offerings
Tender words of helpless mutterings
Expressing in words
Show of kindness
Didn't dismiss of a warm compassion
All have returned of pure compliance
''All about me'' journal
How could I even begin to convey to another how I truly felt? Perhaps the necessity to put into words is not needed. I sat and held hands with the molten honey, kissed the fire embers over and over, I did it. These people only exist in my mind as the raw emotion brought about by their raw emotion. Maybe my raw emotion is their raw emotion, or maybe not. Does it matter, I mean to say, is it necessary to know what the other felt? Maybe we all feel the same way all the time but we describe it differently. Maybe we feel completely different all the time and we try so hard to convince the other. I know this though. I feel a strange feeling that would look like a dark purple gem. I feel a slight sinking of the inner heart but the outer skin of my heart pulls up. It pulls up through my chest, up to the base of my throat. It manifests through my body to my eyes. This fury hides behind the ducts of my eyes. My heart is cold, my chest is warm, my eyes are tired. I can’t name it because a single name would be too broad. And when I think of Austin… The feeling intensifies to the point that I wish to weep. He passed away some time ago now. I can say that it hurts now because the front of my throat, the Adams apple, it feels like there is a weight connected and the weight is pulling down my throat into my stomach. With every breath I feel the same, with every blink I feel still. I miss my brother.
Hey,
I dont really know you
But I've seen you everywhere
Always miraculously
Walking in the rain.

I know you feel
Like your the only one
With real problems
And that it somehow
Makes you feel special

I know your father died
I know you did too
And you've been haunting life
Like a little grey dream
Ever since

I know that you think
The least of yourself
And that maybe
You aren't worth the time
To understand

But you talk anyway
With your eyes
With your lost shoulders
With the subtle smirk
And a lazy three fingered wave

And so I listen
I know you need help
With the shattered bits
The lines on your wrists
But you won't ask

And I sure as ****
Won't leave you here.
Love can be many things. Sometimes its being close enough for someone to grab but far enough for someone to breathe.
Paras Bajaj Sep 2017
Red lips and weird faces.
Star-like eyes and no traces.
Benevolent ways and eminently wise.
Little **** and little paradise.

Timeless beauty but compassionate.
Gold-like bright but great.
No wings but flies high.
Little **** and little paradise.

@ParasPoems
Meg Howell Mar 2017
You were found in my ignorances

The things I chose not to see in myself,
you found in me

This contagious, spontaneous, fun house walk-through, reflecting only the compassionate parts of us two
Leal Knowone Jan 2017
A silken rope of phrases
   ailuranthrope blood tasted
   Sweet salt of the earth

   The dark minded misanthrope
   lycanthrope with ****** noise
   could always be worse

   Now i'm just a  broken rope
   of the wagon, on the boat
   been sinking since birth

   I want to forsake this  curse
   travel through time on this earth
   longing loving mirth

A haiku trapped in mundane
A perfect body
I **** for your  gorgeous brain  

Surround me with your splendor
help the broken see
and find a way to mend her

   This world it may betray us
   and you may find you hate it
   but it could be worse

   Broken bones on dusty throne
   lone failure and  cheap cologne
   I can see the hearse
  
   Passing through, heart still with you
   Now I'm done, let us review  
   Empathy in you
  
   Did you know you were my worth?
   The meaning of my rebirth
   no greater on earth
The Willow Jul 2016
"Why do you do that? Why do you blame yourself?"

"Because it's easier to believe that my love went wrong then to believe there was never love in them at all.

Because it's easier to believe that it was my fault, then to never trust the world again."
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