Meditation, meditation
Meant to be healthy vibration,
Diving deep into the now
Losing every form somehow.

Feeling guilty
I neglected
My long meditations.

Feeling overwhelmed
Many tasks
In my head.

I am now avoiding
My own self-
Confronting.

Wanting peace
Still.
To know how I feel.

I am myself but
Ugly.
And maybe that's
Why I feel sick.

Sick of playing some role
To everyone around me.

"You're so beautiful, nice."
"You're an angel", they say.

But they don't know that I
Struggle every day.

I should be so grateful
For my physical health.
So thanks.

But I am disappointed
By having panic attacks.

Breathing gets very shallow,
Sometimes I lose control,
In my mind many thoughts,
I feel lost and alone.

Hundreds pieces
Are called Me.
But who manages it all?

Sometimes I want to hide
In a warm dark safe place
Where nobody sees me
And I don't need to be
Anyone.

I don't need to play
Any role.

I can call this place
My home.

I can feel whole
On my own.

Where I hold myself
When I am worried.

And I tell myself
Different stories.

Where I truly believe
In love.

Where I feel
As though I was enough.

Lost inside
Fractions of mind
Consciousness split

Bubbling up
Unhealthy impulses
Hurting

Hurting
Hunting
Hating

Conflicting parts
No peace
No bliss

Paralyzed
In a dissociative
Circle

Let me out!
You have to endure.
Every feeling

So I am enduring
Breathing
Numb

Opening one eye
Hate. Closing it.
Opening another eye
Lust. Losing it.

Never opening both eyes for too long.
Awareness. Awareness. Awareness.
Searching.

Reminder?
How to connect with myself
When there are 100 parts
Within me arguing.
Unpleasantly.

Who am I?
Who was I yesterday?
And an hour ago?

I am fear.
Afraid to lose control.
I am freedom in disguise.
Lock me up.
Hide me in those woods.
Tyranny.

Being is survival
Existence a struggle
When you fight.

So stop.
STOP.
Stop fighting. Now.

It's alright, baby,
Just the way it is,
No need to change a thing.

It's alright, baby,
Just the way it is,
No need to fall apart.

I am starting to arrive
At MYSELF,
Finally tasting
The fruits
Of self care and
Self-help.

That supportive voice
I started to hear
Took years of work
To appear.

Now I am blessed
With warmth in my chest,
It's all I ever needed
And some rest.

It's like finding a necklace in the dryer,
all knotted and twisted.
I keep trying to straighten it out,
writing about the same old stuff.

Maybe I'm not really fixing anything,
just fiddling with the knots.
Moving them around,
maybe I'm making progress.

Maybe it's better to laugh,
Set the dang-knotted things aside,
and to have a lighthearted dialogue
with your shadows.

Writing poems at night
I might
Dreaming subtle dreams
I would like
Diving deep into meditation
Everyday I experience pain-bration

In my left shoulder blade
And my upper back
There is no explanation
To that.

But today I had a breakthrough
Sitting still.
Breathing,
Feeling my aliveness,
Learn to feel...

Years ago
I have made a promise
I will not feel this pain,
It might **** me,
If I'm honest.

I ignored all bad feelings
Learned dissociation
Back then, I must admit,
It was a helpful creation.

But now, in adult years,
It's hard to cry those tears,
Which were suppressed,
Because of many fears

At home
In childhood years.

Even if it won't help anybody but me
It has to be worth it anyway.
Writing down how I feel within me,
How my mind is leading me astray.

I once thought that I found the way
That I knew where I'm going and why.
I thought, I understand and can say
What is wrong and what is right.

Turns out I again was wrong
Things are different, more complex.
After all I feel broken, alone,
And it has become hard to relax.

I am wondering when it is time
For myself to just fall and let go,
To be able to let my thoughts be
And to breath, deeply breath, on my own.

Instead I am feeling estranged
From this world and my thoughts
Alienated.
I am trying to grasp what it means
And I don't understand,
Feeling frustrated.

This is where this poem leads us
Needless to say into the unknown
And repeatedly one may have asked,
Is there really nowhere she can go?

I'm not worried about my life
I am worried about my image
I am trying to strive and strive
Performing on a stage
Called life of strife
This life of strife

Hör auf, listen to me
Du bist nicht so wichtig
As it seems to be.
What? You feel hurt again?
I don't know what to do
My friend.

I don't know what to do, my friend.