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Star BG May 2017
I
I sit at window
reflecting on beauty of minds heart.
With deep meditative breath
I connect for peacefulness.

I sit on mountain,
reflecting on beauty of earth entity.
With deep breath and focus,
I connect for harmony

I sit in vessel,
reflecting on beauty as sky and earth merge.
With deep breath and a smile,
I connect for joy.

I sit at ocean bed,
reflecting on gratitude for everything.
With deep breath and balance,
I connect in oneness.

StarBG © 2017
inspired by Diya
Jawad May 2017
Spring in the north
Fall in the south

Sky and seas, blue
Brown and green, lands

Sand on the shore,
Beneath the seas

Water on top
And under earth

Same heart that loves
Does also hate

Pain during birth
Release by death

Same child that cries
Shouts when grown up

Different skins
In different shades

Yet beneath them
Flesh, just the same

Different tongues
Different words

Yet all languages
Have ‘I love you

Wondrous world
Wonderful life

Yet we don’t much
Notice and care

...
Thinking about the seemingly little wonders in life...
What lies
beyond the
mist, the
reflecting
ocean of
my being,
wandering
Into the
endless,
eternal fields
of the moon,
before,
I once saw
you here
In the darkness,
I heard you
ask yourself,
why am I worthy?
as a light shines
where your heart
Is, you ask yourself,  
why do I not feel
whole? I touch
your chest
with my hands,
you will
soon see,
within
you holds
everything and
the all,
the power
of love.
Mary-Eliz Apr 2017
Loud and arrogant,
a visceral voice
takes control,

green and purple
red and angry
fierce and ugly

cold like holy water,
but not holy
cold and white like frost
on the windows.

So cold - too cold to sleep.
Breathe under your blanket
curl up
hold your feet to your stomach
your hands inside your head.


The glow from the oil stove flickers
but
the heat from its distant flame
does not reach.
Its light only taunts,
reflects,
makes the frost appear warm.

Frost inside the window

I scrape the crystal etching
with ***** broken nails,

Soon morning will break
and melt the frost,
moving it along the frozen pane,

along my frozen pain.
Riley Young Dec 2016
I envy children
They have something I have lost
That magical sense of wonder
The joy of waking up to a new day
They don't know the hardships of life and are content
I envy their ignorance
One more dreamlike day would bring me solace
Sadly my childhood is long gone
Good things always come to an end
Julia Mae Nov 2016
i have this bad case of emotional abuse
honestly, all it does for me is serve to amuse
because have you ever let something so stupid happen?
all you can do is laugh at yourself for allowing it
i am the one hurting myself -
you you you
you've given me a bad case of emotional abuse
(and i let you)
Grace Jordan Nov 2016
It's odd to think of how much time I spend working out a mental fallacy or problem in my head or on paper and then it's just gone. It's like a rhetorical analysis and my life is a story.

Today i was struggling a tad about spending this weekend at my boyfriend's and him not spending too much time with me. But immediately afterward, I summed that yes, he's happy to see me, but I was the one who asked to visit and he already had plans of things to do. So Though he appreciated my company, he has others things to do and enjoy as well.

This is not OUR weekend or holiday. I am just participating in it.

It was like this welling emotion of hurt suddenly was alleviated, knowing that it was not about shirking me; it was about getting things he had already endeavored to do done.

Thinking gets me to many better places than places I previously was before.

I solve a lot of my own problems staring at a screen and typing them out, or just staring and thinking in general. It gets me through issues that don't need to be issues. Its just my chemical imbalances ramping up small emotions that need not be catastrophic, but can sometimes turn to be.

Similarly, I've solved why I'm an extrovert writer. My only friends were people in stories, and though I adore human energy and potential, real human beings do not compare to the neatness and logic of story characters. They can both feel as real, but real people can change on a dime, or be growthless, or waste their time and learn nothing.

In a story we'd call that unrealistic.

So I'm content being around people, feeding off their glorious energy, but also fine not being too interactive at all times. I can hear voices in movies, I can meet people in stories. I can suffice on the people between pages, and also the people out of pages who feel strong and real and connective to me.

Thinking and reflecting is one of my strongest traits. Telling my therapist about this trait was one of the first times I realized my possible brilliance. I told her I reflect and work out problems with myself, as it was the only way I figured out how to live when things were worst, and she was stunned. She says that trait, one used to often, can sometimes be attributed to genius.

Understandably, I was also stunned.

Reflecting on reflecting even feels rejuvenating. I am so proud of this skill, the skill that kept me alive and now is helping me learn to be self-sufficient. The growth is exponential. The usability is astounding.

I feel so lucky to be able to have it.
Oxygen is precious
and I continue to waste it
contemplating life
and the decisions I make in it
but I can't decide if it's
sadness or anger I'm filled with
I clench my jaw constantly
and I cry in my sleep
don't know what I'm worth
every day I'm reminded I'm weak
decisions decisions, a lack of ambition
or rather the strength to acquire
what I desire and I know
life is truly a lustrous haze

My soul wants to dance
whilst my heart wants to fight
inflicting pain on others
only to lessen my strife
my mind is a complex maze of thought
thinking we were gifted with intelligence
but now I get it, it's a curse to see
understand, realise and go on knowingly
that life is hard and the world is not fair
well I realised it young
so I can admit that I'm scared
the people that comforted me,
stood by my side, seem unaware

I hope people see something in me
because I don't
I see pain filled eyes when I wash my face
I connect with a reflection
that has felt my pain
I doubt everyone else is different
we're all ashamed
the circumstances differ but
the pain is the same
Lady Bird Jun 2016
behind the deep scars
of a sadden soul
stained with pain
a heart so fragile
cant easily spot all
the falling lies

hard as stone
stained cheeks
a false smile
belly knots and ties
all because of the
over lapping lies

even though
there is a door
tightly nailed shut
through its crevices
are broken hopes
and shattered dreams

eyes droping tears
slowly reflecting
forgetton wounds
of hurt and pain
believe it or not
denial does exist
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