Woke up floating today,
Pulled in different directions.
My mind — a restless sea.
A storm is coming
to wash away the silence.

My wrist is getting heavy
How long now have I sat here staring?

I was supposed to be reading
And I'm sure to an outsider that's how it must have seemed

Instead,
the open pages were sunbathing
My right pointer holding one as if to turn it

For, possibly, the past hour

Frozen, but time wasn't

And I had wasted some

Something had triggered something
And just like that
My mind was gone

The rays were burning words
Just like words can burn a heart

It surely wasn't the author's fault
It's been happening to me quite a lot

For, possibly, the past thirty years

All mirrors have two sides:
The one that's clear,
The other is in shadows.
Be careful what you're trying to find out,
Not everything reflects the same old pattern.

By looking carelessly into what's meant to hurt,
Prepare your mind to bend in all directions.
To make some sense of what's behind closed doors,
The only guide is a heart that's strong yet tender.

When you intentionally turn back from being honest,
You lose yourself quite easily in a void.
There are no maps or written rules that warn us,
The only caution is the hidden crack that's in the front.

A mirror is a tricky thing to have around,
Some people never look beyond the waters,
And some, who dared to peek into the back,
Sometimes stay lost without an inner compass.

The main idea is to persevere,
Ascend from all those dim new colors.
And hopefully, get through by pondering the thought:
A distorting mirror always shows a surreal portrait.

The shadow work requires courage in submission,
The story goes even the toughest one is wrong.
Rewriting what has already been written
Will only waste the power to go on.

To face what's in the back of a glossy double,
Without an everlasting crumble or a twitch beneath the bones,
Is to accept the past dictates the freedom
From being blindly led, yet not all seem to know
That once the border is crossed, you must stay present,
Or else the mirror's sides turn into one.

Someday the glass will be half-empty
And you’d get happy about that,
Cause yesterday was not so grateful,
The future, well, has not yet passed.

To see a glass already is a victory  
When you were struggling to have a sip.
A wandering eye, obstructing vision lately,
Somehow is focused, fighting to see clear.  

There are no words that could describe it,
There is no person who could really tell.
The glass could be half full and empty,
At least it’s real to begin with for today.

This mind is a lake
Its waters dark and viscous
Thick like honey
It would
require so much strength to reach
the surface
And if you tried
You'd have to be certain
Which way is up
Because
no beam of light could reach in here
to lead you
You won't drown though
This mind is a kind mind
And you're promised to never feel cold
In its waters
It will take care of you
Keep you sane
No waves can attack
Once you've sunk inside
And you will be loved
And you will be home

You seem to alternate
Between viewing your
Own mind as an
Unstoppable force
And as an
Inescapable curse
The only truly
Unapproachable
Concept for you is
That it's your mind
Within your control

Life is smelling, it's

tasting, seeing, and being --


able to respond.

where is their heart?
I see it, there
buried in the scarlet and hurt
barely pushing blood and ready to burst

but it’s not from love. it cannot feel.
it has only hatred, burning for repeal
shunning calculation for sentiment and pain
for the thrill of what it was to **** again

are they sorry, in some part?
yes; but not the heart.
the heart still remembers what had been; that strange not-love —
birdsong that clipped the dove, (and let its shackles rust.)

so it is the brain that must do
because heart cannot feel,
and the only path left to choose
is to let itself heal