I used to dance alone in my room
I’d spin the spun black under needle
And turn till my walls became one
I’d stretch my face in strain
And mimic pain in movement

I’d measure arms and hands to
The waver of the music
I cried in concaved chest and
Screamed in legs splitting air,
Laughed in fingers spreading wide
And collapsed to the beat’s final throe

I became a simulated symphony, and
So became each dance;
My afternoon secret
I’d forget words and
Mesh into mangled body melody

mmmmmm those hands droning guitar and
a distant voice
in verse,
drumming, drumming

My body curled around each syllable,
Both in question and answer

It was pain, yes
It was heartache
Yes, it was beautiful
But I soon realized
It was not mine

- c

Bear with me for a few minutes or throughout majority of the poem.
There’s some writers block with me.
Yet there’s a need deeper than my subconscious to write about you. A wholesome want that needs not be subliminal.

Each word, each syllable drips baring truth.
No seduction, no romance or any other double entendre.
It’s just a need to write, not for you but to write and it happens that you are the subject.

Growth comes with its formality.
Change opens our eyes to reality.
And the whole process either makes or breaks our mentality.
Not really sure whether you’re afloat or being pulled down by gravity.
That’s just the whole nature of being an entity.

Empty, sometimes growth leads to that.
Hollow, a formidable pit that keeps getting deeper.
It drags you but then again what can be done?
You’re just a life seeker.
Trying to get more, to feel more just without the ruckus of pain.

A turmoil,
You roll and roll and spin and wonder why am I moving so much, so fast?
It’s a process.
Never mind feeling confusion.
It’s just an illusion.
Or a way of getting your mind to really look at things.

I hope I didn’t lose you.
Because often in search of truth we get lost.
And no I am no truth but I’ll bring you honesty.

Consequences. No more, no less than the word guilt. We live in it, sometimes take pleasure in it. But primarily grow because that is it’s end game. Growth.

Self awareness.
Look in the mirror and appreciate, not what is outside or inside but what is you. Because growth is that, appreciation of self.

Incomplete. A feeling so deafening, so loud and corrupt. A feeling that can just be so abrupt to your conscious.
And so for that be cautious.

The mind requires freedom and love. Love from yourself and freedom from your negative self.
Only then can you truly feel growth.
And only then can you see yourself past the pain and tribulations.

This poem is not done, but it is complete.

He lost his job yesterday
But the bills, they just kept comin'

I feel young recently
But time itself, it just kept movin'

She lost her beloved
But the memories, they just kept emergin'

I saw my ex-lover
But when we laid eyes, we just kept goin'

He met his lost friend
But when he tried to talk, he just kept leavin'

The dog dropped its treat in the river
But when it tried to get it, it just kept driftin'

The poem tried to end itself
But when it reached here, it just kept goin'

The poet tried to find himself
But he failed, he just kept writin'

The couplets tried to find reason
But alas, continuation just kept happenin'

Time must go on, even if we chose to stay
But time is impartial. It just keeps goin'

Convalescence,
How are you?
Better,
But I've been saying it
Since the beginning.
Are the whispers inside true,
That maybe I can finally start to believe it?

What did it take,
Some may innocently wonder.
Patience.
With every single breath I make.
I've been half trying to ignore the improvement,
Fearing one moments notice will
Surely steal it all back.
"No," I whisper alone, "I want to be better."

The other half
Astonished,
I try to be proud for the little things now,
So really I should feel
Amazing.

I swear I do very much venerate all of my achievements,
It was the only way,
That I could continue to survive.

Unequivocally honestly,
I'm afraid.
Scared of it all going wrong again.
Waiting to feel the terror of all the endless times I've tried,
Getting thrown right back in my face again.
Because isn't that what's been destined to happen
From the very start?

I've been having an almost
Two month long rest,
A complete break of everything.
It was only meant to last a month, but after that month had been and gone,
It started to actually feel
A little better, brighter,
Less dark.

I'll admit it,
I'm guilty,
Guilty of getting comfortable with how it started to feel.
I didn't want it ripped away from me,
Please.
I know once it's gone it will be hard as Hell to get back,
I've already been through all that,
I am still.

I want to get back to pushing myself.
(Like this)
I never wanted to stop,
But I had to listen,
My body was screaming at me, for me
To stop.
And this evidence is telling me why I had to listen.
It seems you can't beat your body,
Ever, but especially not when it's fighting for you and against you.

And the symptoms yelled
Please stop, please be still,
Like they wanted me to sleep all day,
But still it will take half-a-year for there to be any difference.
But I waited.
I didn't get any choices.

So now, I'm sorry
It just terrifies me that trying,
When I finally let it be,
Might tear me back down, to where I used to be.
I'm not foolish enough to expect this is the end.
Surely when I try again my symptoms will join in too.
They only started to improve
The more I tried to rest.
Yes, eventually - After a lot of effort I got here,
But you have no idea how I tried.
How I limited my actions,
So in a month maybe it won't be so hard.
Now I'm here, I'm worried my efforts will send me back.
Wasted.
Don't make me go,
I don't want to be useless anymore,
I'm still bad but so much better,
Please don't
Stop me,
Hurt me,
Trip me,
Trap me,
Lose me to my own body.
Not anymore.
I'm still here
Fighting.

life

life; it’s a precious thing that can vanish anytime
Don’t let it slip through your fingers, dream big and start the action, take control of your life, make wild choices but good ones

Live wild, laugh at the good times, cry when you go through a heartbreak, cry when you come in first in a race because last place was what you always achieved, smile when good achievements are made

Travel and adventure the world, before all of it can vanish in one second,

Don’t let the small things agitate you, be patient, make music with the sound of nature, strum to your own heart beat, because we only have a few seconds to experience the joy that life can bring us, don’t let it slip through your fingers