You know that moment, when you’re tired. Tired and frustrated of actually nothing. You think what’s wrong with you, but that moment, you just want to go to your room, away from everyone and everything and let everything out. You’re so tangled in your thoughts that you just want to lie down and think and then you start having those scary thoughts, which make you feel confined. You seal yourself in your room and think of murdering your mind, for it talks too much. You unseal your room and decide to go for a walk. You walk, you jog, but both, your mind and your heart start fighting so loudly that you stop. You stop, and ask them to shut up, but the civil war inside your body never does. You decide to leave everything away and start afresh, you do. You change your city, you change your address, you keep changing everything, until you realise that past will always be permanent. For your, thoughts, will always haunt you, making you, the prisoners of your past, until you start sharing, until you start talking. Your heart may weep at night, your eyes may bleed in the morning, your ruthless brain may say it’s all gonna be okay, you may feel that you’re buried five feet under your thoughts, without a coffin, nothing will be okay, until you start talking, start sharing. You’re so engrossed in your thoughts that you do not hear the honking of the car, until the driver comes out and shakes your body. For maybe, you’ve left your past behind, but the past would never leave you. You’d drown yourself in the ocean of thoughts sailing in the ship of tequila, until it te quils you. -@enchantingnachokitten

nothing waits for me except eternal darkness,
for, I want to splurge my existence in that void,
the abyss of harmlessness.

so, here I rise with a blade in my hand, listening to pink floyd,
and there, it pierced my wrist,
I never felt more alive.
As I sink lower into that grey chasm,
I fall deeper and deeper into the fate I have written,
fearing I may regret this, one day.
-@enchantingnachokitten

I've got no inspiration, 'cause you've taken it all
Can't put pen to paper, 'cause I've written it all
And my misbehaviour, has caused me too fall

Deeper down the hole you left,
When I put you on the shelf.

I always showed you
how I shone
under the sun
but you never noticed
what happens
when I melted

Hopefully, we’re deeper than the screen we’re staring at.

I want to become a diver
like the scuba guys in the Thai cave
risking death to save life,
going deeper into convoluted passages
of darkness to pull life from it.

I want to become a heart surgeon
transplanting energizing mitochondria
into babies’ dying hearts
to revive and save damaged cells.
Oh to receive from the gods of creativity
an infusion of fresh energy
into this old body
and renew flagging cells
with a flowering fragrance
as sweet and unique as Plumeria!

May this diving deeper
be as fruitful now as it has been
in the decisive moments
I was able to conquer pride and self
to reach out to others
whose spirits had frowns
whose life energy was down.

I know: thinking, reading and writing
are not quite enough to reach and taste
the fruits of angels.
Like the classic tension
between “faith and works”
“deeper” means a marriage
of information and application
to get transformation.

And so these moments of writing poems
and diving deeper, rising higher
for the creative spirit
are not divorced
from kindness and reaching out
in friendship, intimacy, and love,
from taking time and spending energy
beyond these meditative walls
embracing life where it calls.

I am a diver and a surgeon
a spark striker, a flame keeper
always desiring
to move
deeper, deeper, deeper.