I ached to feel the comfort of someone turning the pages of my soul
eager to read, cover to cover
agreeing in contentment
because I was enough
maybe even more than enough.
Leave me with nothing;
nothing but nostalgia that'll hurt so good
it'll pinch my chest
and send whirl winds through my stomach
yet I'll love it,
just like I loved you.
love is habituating
as are broken hearts
Fell slowly out of love with he
and gently into love with me
Every man in her life taught her how to carry on in their absence
We wreck havoc on one another in the name of love. We leave inoperable scars upon each others souls and leave one another strangled for air, plundered of all vitals. We call this love, and we recycle these events, these feelings onto the next person without realizing that we are generating and regenerating feeble souls, stripped of their ability to love. What a tragedy love has become.
You must have kissed me a million times before , I thought to myself
but today you kissed me and it was as if our lips did not recognize each other,
and I couldn't even recall the last time you had kissed me.
as I moved my lips and swirled my tongue,
I realized our love was no longer young
and we had grown apart without saying a word
I was angry at my father for abandoning me
I was angry at my brother for not guiding me
I was angry at my mother for not protecting me
I was angry at him for not loving all the pieces of me
Every moment of every dayI was enraged
I wept and wept in the name love
but truly I was brimmed with grief
the grief I felt
from the love I did not give myself.
She dies repeatedly, in just one life time;
She dies religiously
she hopes each time, death would lead her to nirvana
but instead she wakes up
just to realize she is exhausted and still stuck, alive.
He wanted so much for me to need him
He did everything in his power so that I would
I did not need him though
somewhere along the way I had been accustomed to him,
I began to need him
But he was no longer there
And that’s just the way it goes.
I did not need him though
And I still don’t need him
And I hope, I will never need him
love & anxiety;
they might as well be synonymous .
i hear you in my head
but i do not see you
are you in my head?
or is there no real you
the taste of you
i know is poison
yet i let the taste of you linger on my lips,
inject it anyway, since it takes me on a trip
and i desperately try to save it, taste it
remember it, recreate it,
the taste of you
i know is poison.
Your intuition is never wrong.
Don't ever silence her,
for she will cry in agony and you will feel it deeply,
and sometimes her voice may sound needy,
but she is needy for you, all for you
for you to love yourself, chose yourself, and be yourself
Your intuition is never wrong,
please don't ever silence her.
my muse is my sorrow,
but if it did not exist i would not find beauty in the rain
and solace in pain.
it finds different ways to manifest,
but it is safe to say
it is no longer an unwelcome guest.
when i was home,
he had never been home
I am no longer able to go home,
and now he is synonymous to home.
Easy on the eyes
Easy on the soul
I fight the sadness away
and tell myself I'm alright
despite the many books I read, the lectures I attend,
the places I travel, the people I meet
I can't fill in the gaps your absence has left
and all I can tell myself is that it is all for the greater good.
But often I cannot find comfort in this thought
I cannot ease my mind
because parts of me still cannot concede
you do not feel like something I want anymore,
rather something I need
that is what is most alarming.
I sat by the rocks on top of the cliff over the beach that was conveniently placed behind my school.
Or rather my school conveniently placed in front of it.
I felt alone as I sifted through my notes and waited for him to come. I hoped he would come but I did not know if he would. I was used to expecting the worst, and I convinced myself this time would be no different.
Beyond the overhang of the cliff I sat, there was a man fishing, wearing a bright pink hat and yellow shoes. He stood on a rock all alone as he intricately moved his hands along his fishing line. I could not make out the movements but I could tell he was well rehearsed.
I kept peaking over my shoulder to see if I would see him coming to join me but he was no where in sight. As I sat there watching the fisherman, I realized I was not at all alone. A contentness fell over me as I realized that I was never really alone. Or perhaps that being alone wasn't really being alone when you can make peace with it.
In that moment I realized what I had always realized but was never able to make peace with:
We would probably wander much of our lives alone but we ultimately get to chose if we want to be lonely or not.
Some days I will feel lonely, and other days I'd find my fisherman in the distance to find comfort in.
Your lips are so foreign,
I'd like to kiss them until they become home.
the way u say my name
i know its going to rain
cause when ever you say my name,
there is always impending rain
#rain #impending doom #storm
erode you away, like a pebble in the river
your edges become smooth to the touch
a sight for sore eyes, touch for sore hands
I want you to forget about the pain when you're inside me
euphoria will pass and it'll be temporary,
But at least I'll forget about the pain when you're inside me
so comfortable in pain
that I'm uncomfortable in its absence.
Mend your soul through weeping
I will preserve your soul, for safe keeping.
Once you've felt the sun on your face,
you may feel especially cold in the shade
i know you want to let go but you don't have to,
i know you been letting go, so now I have to.
Turning over new leaves,
in the wind of fall
addicted to the madness
addicted to the sadness
If only my scars were on the surface of my body instead. Perhaps then, you would finally understand the burden of pain I have held.
I thought you were like me so I felt safe to be me,
but I realized the moment I felt safe, I was no longer safe.
I have so much sadness in my heart,
and boulders chained to my feet.
Yet I have so much love in my heart,
and will fly to every peak.
Many times I am the best version of myself when
I am just me,
I'm not sure what this says about me,
but I do know I am cursed with a lifetime of loneliness
Paralyzed by sadness,
lack of motivation coupled with an unquenchable thirst.
I am sad, yet happy
I am a walking paradox
We diffuse ink into our bodies with needles, withstanding the pain, waiting patiently through the healing process of aching, scabbing and itching. We anticipate it, and marvel at its beauty upon healing. We call this an expression; body art. Then why don’t we treat scars and aches the same? Why should we hide those away as if it were something to be ashamed of? Let me stand beaming, strong and proud of my scars
I am not a carefully prepared bouquet of flowers
arranged to please anyone
to create comfort
I am the raw uncomfortable, that they want to pretend doesn't exist.
I am a bowl of wild flowers
I am the moon,
no perception or projection of shine or shadow
can change me,
discern me or not, it does not change that I am full no matter.
My moonlight knight, was just an intangible, empty projection.
Thats the thing about poets, their words drip of rich nectar, but it only alludes the sweetness of honey
Perhaps the sun and moon are lovers,
lovers who rarely have the fortuity of meeting one another
Always chasing, always orbiting
the increasing distance ever so burdening
But once in a while, they get fairly close,
everything stops, stands still as if it had froze,
And vibrant energy is exchanged with a kiss,
while the universe stares in awe of their wondrous eclipse.
I wrote my name in the sand and waited for your waves
to carry the sound of my name away
I did not realize I would be waiting an eternity,
Your supposed love in all its breivity
because your waves are weak, and your tides run low
and a love like mine, someone like you could never really know.
That you lack depth, and could never dive into the sea of my constellations,
That your soul reeked of rancid soul ******* desperation.
That you could never love a love like me,
So let me write my own name in the sand,
and let me leave it there engraved in the earth
My name to keep.
His thread weaving through my silk cloth
Agonizing at first I thought,
he punctured exhaustively through my sheath.
Felt broken and torn from beneath
I then came to the realization; I was sewn up tighter and tougher than ever before
Scientist with a poetic mind
The curse of the empath?
or the gift of empathy.
Have feelings of anguish and sadness become excessively glorified?
As there is some sort of serenity in feeling pain and melancholy,
of tears carrying weight,
carrying the weight away,
of the ability to feel at such depths,
the complexity of relationships, realms and constructs of being and feeling are manifold.
Have these emotions become so alluring?
Maybe thats what they mean when they say beauty is pain,
There is beauty in pain.
If I dare hear you
I will feel you like the sun
A sound so ever profound
In your direction then, shall I grow forth?
Delicate blossoms, as they wither away,
with each passing night she withstands her days.
Her branches are barren, her beauty forgotten,
now down to her core, she looks weak and unwanted.
Despair not, for she will bloom again
despite the anguish and despite any pain.
Resilient by nature, her season will come,
Heavy hearted but rooted, she never forgets where she is from.
Such beautiful masks may conceal the most rancid souls,
but in due time, those masks fall off.
Remember, the use-to-be's, they no longer count,
And in due time, time does heals all.
Trying to be with you is like drinking poison.
Continually drinking the vial and then wondering why I’m slowly dying.