It's not your fault.
Whatever you're thinking about blaming yourself for, It's not your fault.
I know it may sound dumb and obvious, yes, but I want you to know
These words are now yours,
this poem is for you.
And if you must draw things against your skin,
make it a pen and not a blade.
Create something so beautiful that it would make you sob to destroy that.
Because that's <i>you</i> and you're beautiful.
Everyone glorifies being stoic and strong,
I want you to know that you don't have to be strong to make them happy.
It's okay to simply just
These are my favorite words that I've ever been told,
so now I'll tell them to you:
I love you. You will survive yourself.
No one can tell you who you are,
because only you know.
And that's a beautiful thing.
Stay proud, my friend.
For my UwU boi
Sidenote: holy fricken-snackin, it's literally taken me a week to upload this because my internet *****, i'm so sorry.
My life has come to an end that time of sorrow so great,
What to do I cannot move, what to say I cannot speak
What to feel I am so numb, but wait.
What is this I see before my fall,
What is this my end, or the hate playing with my sight,
Peace I say my friend I am but the strength of your all,
You are so small my little sprite,
But I am the hope that will bring your light.
I used to live in the simple world of right and wrong, positive and negative. I grew out of an ordered world everything had to its place before i came along and belonged nowhere. I cannot be compared, neither greater nor less nor equal to nothing. Now you see, it’s plain, I made the world complex. I changed the rules. People said it couldn’t be done but I said why not. So many of you don’t bother to understand, you’re dismissive, judging based off a name or first impression that i must be fake, useless, false. As if i were less real than anything else. Or worse, you mechanically embrace that which you don’t understand, but you don’t care whether you understand. As long as you can use, use, use. The eye that you’re imagining isn’t real, isn’t true. Oh the pain, when you finally come to that existentially horrific epiphany that nothing you ever understand as real actually exists. That your whole world of truth is some megastructure resting atop his shoulders of tenuous assumptions. How it hurts when you realize that what you thought you knew and loved was simple blind, dependents. How it hurts when you realize that the safety of knowing everything is right is something you will never feel again. How it hurts when you realize I can never be truly known.
Hope always posits
that joy is still possible.
Oh God, I'm happy in this morning,
Being free of problem solving,
Living loving the road I'm hitting,
The misery I'm passing through.
Oh, how I would be free to suffer
Other mornings and another,
Filled with oh-such charming pattern,
Being happy after all.
Oh happy! Seeing all gifts that matter,
A marrow and a loving mother,
Ever radiating on the darker-darker
Sight that I'm still having though.
Oh, the obscure morrow and yester -
All those possible disaster
Are enlightened and farther- farther
Oh God, I'm happy in the now-happening;
I wish this moment pending padding,
I would leave all those doubtful setting'
And resting for ever in a now.
Do not ever allow yourself
to reduce the incomprehensible miracle
of your very existence
to basic questions of self-worth.
Do not ever allow your boss to write you off
as nothing more than a worker
who is failing to meet
some arbitrary set of expectations.
Do not ever allow a bully to tell you
that you are nothing more than a child
lacking in physical strength.
Do not ever allow a politician
to boil your being
down to a cheap distillation
of inside jokes and snickering, racist
The fact that you are here,
alive and present
and reading these words
is a stentorian, staggering miracle.
all of us,
of occasionally forgetting
this fundamental fact.
But we must remember,
you and I,
and every other being with us,
that we sprang forth from nothing—
into awareness and consciousness
and individuality, and personality
in this gargantuan, freezing, largely empty universe.
Allow me to remind you
that that idea
is entirely incredible—
the purest void was somehow spun into
the totality of your being—
into the infinity of the present moment—
a Möbius-strip mindfuck
expanding outward in space and time
reaching toward all directions simultaneously.
The fact that you and I are here is miraculous.
And the fact that you exist is a miracle.
Do not ever let
our sickly civilization
try to tell you anything to the contrary.
When the birds are singing tomorrow
While the sun is entering my room,
I'll wake up with water surrounding my place
But once I inhale and exhale,
Bet that I'll win every race.
Even if the dirt wants to dirt me,
Let it be, because I'm standing straight
And my eyes are now awake
From my heaviness sleep
And I'm fully ready to face everything.
Keep staying positive
what we become in
rejection to the templates
we succumb to
a positive negation of what
we once believed to be our
cast aside even the idea
of a revelatory rebirth
silence and space do not
emptiness, void - they too fail
the more i write about it,
the less i say about it
‘Well, it was indeed
a very long association,
But it needs to end.
I will have to usher you out
to welcome my new friend.
Her name is ‘morning’.
So goodbye, darling!”
From a weary, but determined Me
to the long, dark, night that refused to end.
A poem from my upcoming debut book 'IshQn & SomeOne'.
Not by your GPA
Or what others say
For you are far more
Than what some people see
Measure your worth
In the number of smiles you’ve caused
The way that you light up the world
Luminating the darkness
Turning sad nights
Into the most beautiful day
And I know it may mean nothing
To read this from your screen
I just wanted you to know
That you are
Than you yourself believe