Power would never fill love
Money , yeah it's funny
Still wouldn't fill the love
Tarot readings wouldn't bring love
Mere pure love inspires us
To call a friend after a concerned good_bye
To hug a friend so tight
To gaze at stars at night
Only love prevents us from fight
Why hesitant
Biorhythm of love
Moves around
Just be determined
& pretend
That you're loved

Take a deep breath
Let it out
Look down at your hands
Turn over your palms
Trace those lines
They're real
And you're the only one with them
Whether you believe
In palm reading
Or simple idiosyncrasies
Or the monotonous diversity
Of humanity
You have your own lines
Your own life
And the way you see your friends
Beautiful and wonderful and
Lovely in their flaws
Is how someone sees you
You're astonishing
You're a ******* work of art
Maybe you can't see it yet but
Someday that veil will lift
And you'll see how much you are
You are enough
You are so much more than enough
There's a lifetime in those palms
And it isn't over yet
So take a deep breath
And open your eyes

my mind is trying to find a reason
why this may be happening
but it keeps searching
and it keeps coming up empty

there is no explanation
or logical reason
there is no solution
to this problem

you said so many beautiful words
and they’re saying
none of them meant anything to you
but how could i believe them
when i know your eternal soul?
why would you say those things
and not mean them?

To write,
was to embrace all the waves
that you kept off the shore.

To write,
was to embrace the thoughts
you shoveled down
so they wouldn't have the power to hurt you.

To write,
was to feel liberated
of your shackles and confinement.

To write,
was to find yourself
navigating towards
your own thoughts
and emotions that you
kept away for so long.

To write,
was to feel once more
and be brought back to yourself.

It doesn't matter
if other don't believe in you,
what matters is
do you believe in yourself?