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Psychosa Jul 23
This skin is not mine own.
For it will remain ,
When I am gone.
This skin is my home
For my time here.
Did I choose this skin,
Or did this skin choose me ?
I am plagued by own existence.
But is it even my own?
Erik Luo Jun 22
Love  
Is a word  
With too many definitions 

Too many implications   
Too little imperfections 

What is there to say  
But love without words  
Like strings without end  
Or rain without clouds 

This  
Without you  
Without me  
Without love

This is also love   
In truth

This   
Time and space  
Filled with being  
Of the wordless word  
The loveless love  
The dreamless dream  
The pathless path

God   
is within 

Love   
Is...
Jammit Janet Jun 21
The power of play
The power to make you feel alive
Remember that existence isn’t meant to be lived in vain
But to be experienced
If you care to thrive.
Ali Harati Jun 13
Everything is a moment
Of silence in design,
Of rage that is burning
With passion behind.

Everything is a feeling
Of sorrow when it rains,
Of letting go the tears
That hold you in your cage.

Everything is a touch
Of the hand upon your cheeks,
Of love that is fainting
But not failing to persist.

Everywhere is a space
Of solitude in form,
Of where you would be
If everything is yours.

Everywhere is a pursuit
Of wanting to be seen,
Of all being for nothing
If everything would cease.

When everything is something,
And everywhere is there,
You’ve found it all at once,
Which you’ll wholly embrace.
This poem was inspired by the movie of the same name. It just moved me so much I had to write it.
Parts of his existence:

A vessel; is a magic that flows through its veins— the color of my cheeks and the color of his madness

A certainty; all flesh and bone, sutured and bruised; we can be made of cracks, somehow.

and my heart, he had it all as black holes grew in my chest (as if the vacancies could be filled by his existence)

for me, he is insatiable
as I was always heartless.
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
i am
considering
buying tickets
to a lecture
on the cosmos
though my thoughts
have often
dwelt
amongst the celestials
in one form
   or another
i know little
beyond
what was learnt
at school;
cursory details
when the vastness
of the universe
is considered

there is a desire
to understand
   from where we came
   of what made us
   how we came to be
and
   our chances
      for a future
there is
a radiance
and pageantry
to the stars;
an expanse
that should incite
inspiration
   and wonder
instead
this infinity
is a subject
dominated by
doomsdayers
   and
      doomsayers
without much
pity left
for
the rest of us

if i do
choose
to attend
i know that
i’ll be lost
to the magnificence
of the dwarfs
   and nebulas
understanding
at best
half
of all that
is proffered

to be honest
i’m not sure
its worth
the £50
plus postage
when i think
i can predict
how it will end;
warnings
will be given
and advice
   imparted
unfortunately
there is
no guarantee
i will still
be listening
aspen wilde May 4
i have felt
like      this  
before

that my being
and          existence
of life

does attack and
physically                 p a i n
them

"we are such stuff
that             dreams
are made on"

but no-one says
that these                    d r e a m s
can go bad
Luisa C May 1
I want the air to surround me, hug me,
losing myself in its invisible arms
and therefore finding something meaningful
in its transparent substance.
I do not want to cower from the implications
that I am so dependent on this traceless vapour.
Make me crave you, I think, hoping it hears my wish,
welcome me as I so desperately want to welcome you.
So I stand paralysed staring into the unknown,
the endless vortex of existence,
hypnotising me with its mystery, torment and beauty,
divinity, chaos and serenity;
the paradox of living and reality.
To be a human is to be a reflection of the dazzling mess of life;
how can I not take in the wonders of the universe each time I inhale?
My breath is power, the air my hero,
it gives me strength even in times I fight ruthlessly against it.
What is this strange instinct, this stubborn ingrained desire,
this anonymous impulse that never changes or falters?
Why won't it tell me what it's here for, why it persists,
I want to be informed on what it has to offer me.
So show me, I say to nothing, come out and reveal your secrets,
stop your hiding and give me everything there is to know, consume, devour.
I want to be nourished with it, overwhelmed with it,
so show me that this life is worth living.
The vast and depthless road of reality stretches out for so long it scares me,
the plethora of choices, unlimited possibilities,
fear traps me, foolishly, I allow it to strike me
in every way, shape and form
even when I told it to do everything it can to excite me.
It kept its promise well it seemed, it obeyed my order,
now I'm stuck between two states, helpless and frozen.
It turns out I'm not really sure I can handle it.
It turns out I'm not really sure what I want, ever.
𝙼𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝'𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎
𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 , 𝚠𝚑𝚘'𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎..
Someone's waiting for you... someone's so happy that you are under the same sky , breathing the same air ...
hopefully to meet someday..
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