Quietly, ordinarily, and without heralds
It arrives, and you know—the truly good;
And you run after it, to fully grasp and hear
Not in full understanding yet, but it feeds,
Every moment: ever richer, ever illuminating,
Ever the more profound; mutually enlarging
All that's heard and known darkly from before
And Life! ever the brighter, the exalted, and the unspeakable!

I cannot tell you
The remedy to your emptiness,
But I can share with you
That of a treatment of mine.
It can be hearing of progress
On any front
In the forms of beautiful ideas
And new expressions,
The world of us humans.
Of newfound love
In many kinds of companionship
Whether by person or by animal,
Or even by plant.
Of new discovery
Which betters our understanding
About the fundamentals of the universe,
Like walking in the wild;
Cherishing all that is natural.

Being a humble observer
In the courts of law
Under honorable nature.

Just by being an animal.

“I felt there was no
point in telling
anyone anything
that was happening
inside of me.”

Once I saw that,
I felt my purpose in
life had been fulfilled.

Once I realised that
I may be the main character
in my life and the background
in someone else’s, I rejoiced.
The “someone else” being my
best friend.

Once I know that I will depart their lives in either one day or one year, life becomes so much easier.

i am screaming
screaming out to you

why can't you hear me?
just listen.

you say you can't hear me
because i am screaming in silence

and i cant expect people to hear me
if i'm not saying anything at all.

how is it that, inside me
its so **** loud,

and yet i can't manage to get it outside.
i can't get people to hear.

i guess its sad if people are so limited by their senses
while i am able to experience all the infinite forms of communication.

or, maybe its sad for me.
because even if i can communicate in all these infinite ways,

it makes it hard to find the one in which
they can hear me

screaming
in silence.

In every class,
Every place,
There is a child that's oddly quiet.
As the child grows up, they begin to change,
Growing more and more distant from reality.

They sit there emotionlessly,
Living their dream life in their own universe.
It's quite sad others can't see it.

Sometimes, imagination dissapears along with childhood innocence.
A child that can't play is no longer a child.
Some children are smarter than adults
That's why people belittle them.
They can't stand the thought of someone being superior to them.

Be a child as long as you can.
You'll regret it if you don't.

Im too hurt.
Too hurt to speak.
I go by a sunny day , stop to thank it.
But i dont want to talk.
My voice will be the disturbance in a beautiful moment.
But how gracious are things when
We just stare at them.
Quietly.

Seltzer tears

Bubble
Down,

Burning eyelids

Shut.

Fizziness stings

Like bandages

Ripped

From healing
Wounds.

Quiet popping

Reels in silence.

Time
Is slow.