sometimes it’s not the world that is loud,
there’s no rain, no grey cloud,

sometimes it’s a storm inside of me,
where the wind is strong,
like a very cold breeze.

sometimes it’s the rain in my soul,
pouring emotions, telling me to let go,

sometimes it’s not the
outside world,
that is loud,
it’s my inner peace
that whirls around and
has been gathering war clouds

because sometimes
there’s too much stress,
to many thoughts, an excess

it’s not life’s best part
but sometimes
there’s a storm in my heart.

there are lightning’s, even thunder,
and I feel like I’m going under

but I better calm down,
there’s no need for me to drown.

I pick myself up, piece by piece
it’s not a fight without cease

there’s no need for preoccupation,
as long as I am, my own salvation.

- gio

When my mind is full
I watch my thoughts
I realise crosses
are really the same as noughts.

I watch my breath
fill up space in my chest
and pacify my ego's need to protest.

Control is not a prerequisite
of a happy soul.
The same way your 'other half'
is not a prerequisite to your whole.

So once in a while let it all go
receive yourself,
the highs and lows.

Don't 'empty' your mind
in attempts to unbind
unwind, rewind, or realign
for how can you?
When you've no idea
what you've just declined.

So when your mind is full
and paints your heart grey,
become mindful of the fact
your thoughts make you that way.

I’d like to be at peace
With my thoughts and my mistakes

I’d like to be at peace
With my emotions and my mistakes

I’d like to be at peace
With my body and my mistakes

I’d like to be at peace
With my self and my mistakes.

The thoughts in my mind continually race;
I need something to slow down this awful pace;
I need to hear the crashing of the waves;
maybe a peaceful mountaintop where you just sit and gaze;
Just something to give my mind some space;
A way to empty my mind, like a runner does his legs;
The kind of quiet where if you pause it gives you grace;
for me this peace was never a specific place;
it could be staring at the sky, burning in the sun's rays;
it could be a memory that lasted a second but to me it was days;
something to make me feel small, like I've vanished from my body without a trace;
My mind can float safely here as writing is My escape.

It simmers inside like a *** set to boil, this roiling bubbling never ending restlessness. Like a rabbit in the forest, seeming content for a time, yet never letting down the guard. Always alert, always watching, always ready to run. Fight or flight a way of life, there is no life without this strife. Content to be and sit and relax, claw my eyes out like angry cats. Punching holes in walls with fists, and screaming into pillow fits. Drinking drowning all it out, for false release and sultry pout. Use them up and toss them out, not what you were talking about. You knew you needed something there, to make this life seem somewhat fair. Nothing going right at all, this anger eating feed it’s call. growing green monstrosity threatening lives all around me with negativity. Bringing darkness to the light the shadowed soul of fight or flight. The angry red and growing pain is searing every dried up vein. Till nothing left but this monster, blinded slave to all it’s incurred. Anger never served it's master, turns the tables shackles of disaster, and satisfaction never gained by feeding what it thirsts in vain this rain of destruction all around never makes a life abound. The monster growing stronger still will hunger more and never filled and feed it though you might and try it will never ends until you die.

Unless you take a sword of light and fight it with nobility and tell it truth and peace and love and right it with humility. It can be beat, it can be killed, it does not have to win. Surrender anger to the Lord, and turn back from your sin.

Following the path less taken
Over all the low roads and
Routes plummeting towards the craven
Gateways of Hell takes the travelers
Into enlightenment. Those who avoid Satan's
Vengeance and forked whispers
Emerge from the waters of the lake in
Nature's womb veiled in holy layers
Encompassing their soul. This ache in
Society seeps into the bones of naysayers
Slandering the purging powers of equal pardon.