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At the end of the day when there's no one but me & you. When there's no light & just darkness. Underneath my makeup, I want you to be able to see the pain in my eyes. The tears stained on my cheeks. The broken words left on my lips. The hate in my heart & the loneliness of my soul. I want you to see the bags under my eyes from sleepless nights. Or the crying behind my laughs. I want you to be able to touch me without feeling like you have to fix me. But importantly, when I am fixed, I want to be the *muse behind the freshness of your being...
"I wish you well."
                                                          ­                    



                                         ­                                     (but not too well without me)
I like 10 word poems because it forces you to summarize your thoughts  to the point where you're really only saying what you mean.
Maybe I should try using that same theory in my own life, haha.
**
And Jesus said, And you shall follow me through trials and through death; but now you cannot go where I will go, but you shall come.

And Jesus spoke again unto the eleven and said, Grieve not because I go away, for it is best that I should go away. If I go not the Comforter will not come to you.

These things I speak while with you in the flesh, but when the Holy Breath shall come in power, lo, she will teach you more and more, and bring to your remembrance all the words that I have said to you.

There are a multitude of things yet to be said; things that this age cannot receive, because it cannot comprehend.

But, lo, I say, Before the great day of the Lord shall come, the Holy Breath will make all mysteries known -

The mysteries of the soul, of life, of death, of immortality; the oneness of a man with every other man and with his God.

Then will the world be led to truth, and man will be the truth.

When she has come, the Comforter, she will convince the world of sin, and of the truth of what I speak, and of the rightness of the judgment of the just; and then the prince of carnal life will be cast out.

And when the Comforter shall come I need not intercede for you; for you will stand approved, and God will know you then as he knows me.
(162:3-11, The Aquarian Gospel of Jesus the Christ)
“And therefore, all of those for whom authentic transformation has deeply unseated their souls must, I believe, wrestle with the profound moral obligation to shout form the heart—perhaps quietly and gently, with tears of reluctance; perhaps with fierce fire and angry wisdom; perhaps with slow and careful analysis; perhaps by unshakable public example—but authentically always and absolutely carries a demand and duty: you must speak out, to the best of your ability, and shake the spiritual tree, and shine your headlights into the eyes of the complacent. You must let that radical realization rumble through your veins and rattle those around you.
Alas, if you fail to do so, you are betraying your own authenticity. You are hiding your true estate. You don’t want to upset others because you don’t want to upset your self. You are acting in bad faith, the taste of a bad infinity.

Because, you see, the alarming fact is that any realization of depth carries a terrible burden: those who are allowed to see are simultaneously saddled with the obligation to communicate that vision in no uncertain terms: that is the bargain. You were allowed to see the truth under the agreement that you would communicate it to others (that is the ultimate meaning of the bodhisattva vow). And therefore, if you have seen, you simply must speak out. Speak out with compassion, or speak out with angry wisdom, or speak out with skillful means, but speak out you must.
And this is truly a terrible burden, a horrible burden, because in any case there is no room for timidity. The fact that you might be wrong is simply no excuse: You might be right in your communication, and you might be wrong, but that doesn’t matter. What does matter, as Kierkegaard so rudely reminded us, is that only by investing and speaking your vision with passion, can the truth, one way or another, finally penetrate the reluctance of the world. If you are right, or if you are wrong, it is only your passion that will force either to be discovered. It is your duty to promote that discovery—either way—and therefore it is your duty to speak your truth with whatever passion and courage you can find in your heart. You must shout, in whatever way you can.”
― Ken Wilber, One Taste

Rest & Love.
Lioness, she
unsheaths claws
Tongue and teeth and flesh,
All yours,
Prey devoured,
She-cat
Roars.
 Apr 2014 Wendell A Brown
K
self harm is not beautiful.
it is not wonderful to be saved
it makes you feel weak
and it makes you feel sick.

carving his name into your skin
is not poetry
and is not romance

mental illness is not glamourous
or fascinating
or graceful

mental illness is sickness
anger, disgust

stop romanticizing something
that destroys life itself
 Apr 2014 Wendell A Brown
Ailin
When you ask for a second,
You take forever,
Does that mean when you say, "forever," you mean only a second?
Because to me you're worth a dollar,
And I'll ask for you like a beggar,
To me you're not priceless, instead, you're what I need,

And when you ask for glue to help fix that broken heart,
You forget that glue is meant for sticking things together, not fixing,
And glass hearts can be recycled, silly,

Although we are reminded that the world is ugly everyday,
You forget that the beauty is inside--,
Look again,

So please, stop reciting the dictionary of self flattery and profanity,
Eventually you'll repeat what you learned to those around you,

Because while we all have been chasing our dreams,
When we find them again
Is when we are least expecting,
When we are asleep
You called it a love bite
Like the word hickey would burn in your mouth
and strip away the taste of her still on your lips

You called it a love bite
Because hickey sounded like troubled teens
and stained sheets

You called it a love bite
Because her perfume still stuck to your shirt
and you didn't want to take it off

You called it a love bite
because you loved her
But you knew she called it a hickey
and nothing more.
Let him go. Just because he loves you doesn't mean you own him. Let him go.
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