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"cautiousness" poems
Whenever you held my hand I thought of the consequences, Whenever you kissed me I thought of what might happen, Whenever you put your arm around me I knew it wouldn't last, And you wonder why I didn't believe a word you said, Because all my doubts came true, You never loved me, That's why I never loved you, I was raised cautious, not blind, I was always told to beware of people like you, Who disguise themselves as lovers when all they are, are liars, You said it was cute, how careful I was, Well is it still cute now? When you're not around, You made the worry worse, even more than it was, More catious than ever, More careful than before, Was that you're goal? For me to scare away the next one? Like I did with you, Then congratulations, it's done.
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Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
Cautiousness
The world's greased, watch your step or you might slip and fall off of it, Serpent in the garden where you're walking, show cautiousness And nothing really grows there in the shadow of the Pyramid, Of our plutonomy, But honestly, from the top the image probably isn't that vivid That we're rats in the labyrinth scolded for eating cheese, That we're lepers on our island rebuked for our disease Once a pigeon ascends with doves, all in the name of peace, The thin air is too comfortable, to return him to the streets Hypnotized by a box framed with Rose-Colored glass While The Owl burns bright and The Baphomet laughs
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Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 8:16 PM UTC
A Hamster on a Treadmill Powered Bokanovsky's Process
I recall being tucked in under sheets of snow And dozing off with aches from icy bums bruised on hidden rocks beneath supposedly cushioned pillows of powder. I recall climbing high up onto roofs and the tops of waterfalls out of confident impulse and curiosity for a different view of the world...a new perspective. I recall the same men and boys inspiring me, teaching me, beating me, and becoming less than what I would become; I then sought out those who saw me as an equal but were indeed much better than I. They helped me to know the importance of being challenged and being humble. I recall the sheer joy and anxiousness that came with the winter breeze leading up the mountains, where everything had a different tint or filter depending on the company you shared the moments with. I recall following pure instinct and having full trust in intuition, hoping only to make this life my own and to inspire in the process. I recall being told to trust no one, and rebelling because I treasured a secret friendship with a stranger more than cautiousness. I recall surfing on rocks, snow, grass, rain, roofs, people, anything but the ocean. I recall forgetting to look for love because I had too much in my own heart to care all that much what I received. I recall getting older and maintaining innocence despite many's attempts at peeling at my corners. I recall reaching adulthood legally and becoming a child illegally, embracing the breaking of that law for the rest of my life to come. I recall making my own home, and being let into the world, and flourishing in that freedom.
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
Adolescence to Adulthood
I recall being tucked in under sheets of snow And dozing off with aches from icy bums bruised on hidden rocks beneath supposedly cushioned pillows of powder. I recall climbing high up onto roofs and the tops of waterfalls out of confident impulse and curiosity for a different view of the world...a new perspective. I recall the same men and boys inspiring me, teaching me, beating me, and becoming less than what I would become; I then sought out those who saw me as an equal but were indeed much better than I. They helped me to know the importance of being challenged and being humble. I recall the sheer joy and anxiousness that came with the winter breeze leading up the mountains, where everything had a different tint or filter depending on the company you shared the moments with. I recall following pure instinct and having full trust in intuition, hoping only to make this life my own and to inspire in the process. I recall being told to trust no one, and rebelling because I treasured a secret friendship with a stranger more than cautiousness. I recall surfing on rocks, snow, grass, rain, roofs, people, anything but the ocean. I recall forgetting to look for love because I had too much in my own heart to care all that much what I received. I recall getting older and maintaining innocence despite many's attempts at peeling at my corners. I recall reaching adulthood legally and becoming a child illegally, embracing the breaking of that law for the rest of my life to come. I recall making my own home, and being let into the world, and flourishing in that freedom.
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12
The piper came again In this world of pain The clouds were packing up in the last part of the sky Turning themselves to dragons, the ostriches left behind In a race which has no end From eternity to eternity As free as a bird The unicorns, angels, owls n strings of guitar Everything moving in their own pace Following the tune of the piper To a world where there are no boundaries Where there are no divisons Where there are no societies And the trees are friends The door opens with warm welcome of the sunrise The dogs of this world don't bark at men And dragons wait for the ostriches The forests echo with laughter And everyone is happy Here no one is hungry n no one has greed No sloth, no control, no envy, no judgement No wrath, no cautiousness, no reasonings, no hypothesis The strings speak, cry and sing in synchrony The songs of unity The songs of fraternity The songs of spirituality Here streets are unbaptised People have no types And u don't need an identity to prove yourself a human being Because here, all is one and one is all Pain is not a word here If u come with stetho, they'll send u back No hypocrisy, no pretending And u can keep ur things at ur places And everything is in a motion With the tune of the piper Now when the trust is broken The light is split into colours They race with different speeds The beats and tunes of the strings turn to mere noises Unicorns fight to break down their horns, get turned to horses Who again begin to race The ostriches get extinct The dragons fight And the river of blood flows The vultures appear The bacteria begin decaying things Into gases that poison civilisation The division begin and people sing their anthems at minutest levels And the world splits into billion pieces Everyone trying to increase their territory Coz they need bigger spaces and they fight for more But when the two worlds fuse The freedom is extended And they call it love The more they love, the more freedom they experience They begin a journey From eternity to eternity...
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Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 4:01 PM UTC
a walk from eternity to eternity
The piper came again In this world of pain The clouds were packing up in the last part of the sky Turning themselves to dragons, the ostriches left behind In a race which has no end From eternity to eternity As free as a bird The unicorns, angels, owls n strings of guitar Everything moving in their own pace Following the tune of the piper To a world where there are no boundaries Where there are no divisons Where there are no societies And the trees are friends The door opens with warm welcome of the sunrise The dogs of this world don't bark at men And dragons wait for the ostriches The forests echo with laughter And everyone is happy Here no one is hungry n no one has greed No sloth, no control, no envy, no judgement No wrath, no cautiousness, no reasonings, no hypothesis The strings speak, cry and sing in synchrony The songs of unity The songs of fraternity The songs of spirituality Here streets are unbaptised People have no types And u don't need an identity to prove yourself a human being Because here, all is one and one is all Pain is not a word here If u come with stetho, they'll send u back No hypocrisy, no pretending And u can keep ur things at ur places And everything is in a motion With the tune of the piper Now when the trust is broken The light is split into colours They race with different speeds The beats and tunes of the strings turn to mere noises Unicorns fight to break down their horns, get turned to horses Who again begin to race The ostriches get extinct The dragons fight And the river of blood flows The vultures appear The bacteria begin decaying things Into gases that poison civilisation The division begin and people sing their anthems at minutest levels And the world splits into billion pieces Everyone trying to increase their territory Coz they need bigger spaces and they fight for more But when the two worlds fuse The freedom is extended And they call it love The more they love, the more freedom they experience They begin a journey From eternity to eternity...
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58
i sit here all alone in my zone and i wonder about the unknown no one is here for they come and they go when someone will stay i shall never know i think about what matters and what i truly love the most so to my Aiden i shall make a toast: i toast for all the happiness that life may bestow and destroy and i toast for my cautiousness because life is not a toy i toast for the memories that everyone might share and i toast for my friends and family who really do care i toast that the good are rewarded and the bad pay the price and i toast that i live long and right, living in my paradise
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Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 1:58 PM UTC
my utopia
The road to recovery May be longer than I intend it to be As if I've been walking for more than a century Seems more like the road to immortality Even if I still walk the path in darkness Even if I cannot see the end I will keep walking forward While my heart continues to mend I will stitch my heart back to together Finding new pieces along the way Filling in those missing parts It will evolve into something new each day A path with no light Can be difficult at times I cannot see the obstacles I am more vulnerable from behind Demons of my past Or my mere cautiousness Stop me from going further I become emotional and careless Along the way I learned I create my own light No matter where I go There will always be a path in sight
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Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 7:36 PM UTC
Road To Recovery
If you were a museum you'd be a gallery of new beginnings and hopeful dreams A masterpiece of an unforgettable smile and dazzling eyes You're the type of art that will touch people's soul by just looking at you Some may be puzzled and may not be able to understand you But there will be people who will appreciate and comprehend what you were trying to paint You're the kind of art that has your mother's brilliant mind and your father's defined looks Both a deadly combination For you are the off spring to carry on your parents' goal Your words are poetry filled with sincerity and wisdom Your lovely face and cheerful personality makes people drawn to you But you are still learning, everyday Trying to draw out the biggest and most amazing masterpiece there is You are still trying to find your muse and your inspiration Little did you know that you are your own muse That is why your art is pure and raw and real because it comes from within your soul Your art is spreading love and kindness throughout others And through years of being painters block or writers block You've managed to block out the negativity and spread out the positivity Because if you were a museum your artwork would be filled of a promising future and lively dreams For you carry the genes of your mom's sadness and recklessness And your dad's happy attitude and cautiousness Maybe that's why you've always been reserved and detached which makes you woe But I hope one day you open your museum that is your heart to share your art to others and let them in so that you could seek happiness and this adventurous side of you that has been hidden all these years Because you yourself is the most beautiful piece of art work that is yet to be discovered.
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Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 11:03 PM UTC
galleries of art.
If you were a museum you'd be a gallery of new beginnings and hopeful dreams A masterpiece of an unforgettable smile and dazzling eyes You're the type of art that will touch people's soul by just looking at you Some may be puzzled and may not be able to understand you But there will be people who will appreciate and comprehend what you were trying to paint You're the kind of art that has your mother's brilliant mind and your father's defined looks Both a deadly combination For you are the off spring to carry on your parents' goal Your words are poetry filled with sincerity and wisdom Your lovely face and cheerful personality makes people drawn to you But you are still learning, everyday Trying to draw out the biggest and most amazing masterpiece there is You are still trying to find your muse and your inspiration Little did you know that you are your own muse That is why your art is pure and raw and real because it comes from within your soul Your art is spreading love and kindness throughout others And through years of being painters block or writers block You've managed to block out the negativity and spread out the positivity Because if you were a museum your artwork would be filled of a promising future and lively dreams For you carry the genes of your mom's sadness and recklessness And your dad's happy attitude and cautiousness Maybe that's why you've always been reserved and detached which makes you woe But I hope one day you open your museum that is your heart to share your art to others and let them in so that you could seek happiness and this adventurous side of you that has been hidden all these years Because you yourself is the most beautiful piece of art work that is yet to be discovered.
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24
In love at its simplicity A love of stitches and bones A pumpkin king and his queen A love story so holiday known Curiosity and intelligence Risk taking and cautiousness She sought for her independence He was persistently adventurous They were match made opposites Though likewise they yearned for Something meaningful outside their grasp That couldn't be found within their norms He sang to finish her song She replied in harmony A simple duet to simply express Their love at its simplicity
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Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 2:15 AM UTC
Match Made Opposites
I live with a tumour of paranoia haunting my social life flaring up with small annoyance in a world of violence and strife my cautiousness turns to avoidance and my irrational fear is rationalised
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Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 7:16 AM UTC
CROSS THE STREET AT NIGHT
Walking through winter with an orange in my pocket Impaled with a gasp By the whitest of mornings I have fully left midnight Velveteen and drunken Tangled all in the branches behind Gone away and I am glad This is not cowardice Creeping like death in the cold It is a wind-stung Cautiousness Natural when so brand new
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Aug 15, 2011
Aug 15, 2011 at 7:44 PM UTC
In The New Year (attempt 1)
Who you truly are is exposed by your words So don't just say anything you think Listen more than you speak And before you speak, rethink Unguarded speech often draw's rebuke So think about what you say Or you may find yourself making up an excuse Or laying blame in another way All your careless words can't fix another person Instead they build up walls that you can't scale Look inside and take your own inventory And let cautiousness prevail
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Apr 5, 2010
Apr 5, 2010 at 5:27 AM UTC
Words
I love your soul, the way you think, your consideration, your tenderness, your strength, your softness, your gentleness, the way you smile, your voice, your looks, your cautiousness, your forthrightness, the way you laugh, your mind, your eyes, your smell, your hair, your taste in design, the way you dress(even the quirky side), your love of animals, your modesty, your courage, your sense of right & wrong, your kindness, your “aye aye”, your promotion of me, your support, the peace I feel when I am with you, the excitement when you're close to me, the fact I miss you when I am not with you and how I look forward to when I am with you. and the delicious prospect of discovering much more.
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Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 2:32 PM UTC
Oh, how I love you
When does running away become being lost? When does cautiousness become hiding? When does a mood become a state of mind? When does an event become a miracle? When does a heart become a wreckage? When do years become a lifetime? When do tears become immovable? When does tiredness become giving up? When does silence become death? When does depression become scars? When does someone become everything?
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Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 1:29 AM UTC
Becoming
What if I asked you entreated you into ending me. My fingers click against sweat stained keys, my eyes strain against the florescent lights of my computer screen, my ears vibrate with the sounds of laughter penetrating the empty dead space of my closed room. I don't want to continue like this. My life is walking with wearied feet sinking deeper and deeper still in the mud of desperation. My toes crack my ankles creak from the stiff cold as I rotate their joints. I'm becoming tired, as the night progresses I wish often than cautiousness allows that I would sleep and not wake.
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Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 8:36 PM UTC
sleep and not wake
I had that need to communicate, before I knew what I was going to say I knew what You meant to me and I knew I was sad But nothing seemed to say what I wanted you to hear I knew I was missing you and I knew you missed her But I thought just for a minute that you might've been my cure I knew I'd been hurt: left thinking one thing but you brought me to believe in another I thought I knew not to love but I guess I forgot I thought I could assume you'd be more than a man I'd have to tolerate I thought I knew never to assume, but I guess I expected I would've been more careful So I might have had thoughts but I guess I wasn't thinking: Im at the same place I was then Im closer to who I was, now then who I've recently been Im in the same pair of shoes I swore Id never have to wear again But despite all cautiousness, you're now not only my past but the pain of my future Maybe I shouldn't have anticipated your love Perhaps that would have subsided some of the peer pressure Possibly that could have brought us closer All I know is that we could've been happy, but you chose her And now Im stuck accepting your convoluted conjectures Mostly because your so scared of the unfamiliar.
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Apr 1, 2012
Apr 1, 2012 at 10:51 PM UTC
Driven by Harsh Thoughts of Love
cautiousness causes our mind to break and body to wither
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Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 1:10 PM UTC
you haven't live at all(10w)
I woke up this morning With my pillow still damp From last night's opening, From that pin-up show Where truth was first on Followed by facts then pain And all was bore straight Through long held tears. I woke up this morning To see your cold eyes. That Peculiar stare of The scientist that's scared Of the monster he made. Those isolating looks. That tells me your view Of me has changed. Those worried, sad eyes That are ready to jump To my aid if I fall I woke up this morning To hear those careful words That tentative speeking Telling me that you're afraid That any word you might say Will cause me to fall apart Will cause me to take my life. And honestly, they could But your cautiousness could Drive me insane as well. With your love, You choke me With your worry, You ****** me With your care You stab me Deep in my heart. Dear Mom Dear Dad I am okay. I lived this way Long before I told you. I know how to deal With pent up pain. But you act different As if I'm a time bomb Or a mental patient. That's why I never told you Cause I knew That you wouldn't know What's best to do. Casting me aside As a freak is far From what's good.
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Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 6:16 PM UTC
That's Why
The ground is my friend Which marks today as my end Looking down feels like home Everyone knows i'm alone Neck no longer strain from the pain Because i prefer fear over gain Cautiousness is a thing of the past Meanwhile my feet are a giant **** Clothes consume the smell of failure And my long journeys consist of torture Money and luxuries are no longer consumable preferences Because a man with no morals like me has nothing to reference
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Feb 25, 2013
Feb 25, 2013 at 3:31 AM UTC
The Dead Bottom
You’ve seen me from the beginning You’ve been witness to the creation of a monster. I was born as a creature of the Night. I’d never laid eyes on light. Scarcely visible through the smoke, I wandered around looking for Hope. Hope, only a thing I’ve heard, never seen. Something I imagine could wash me clean. Rid me of my evil stains Cleanse me of my secret shame. Through the darkness, I saw the light It was so strange, so unknown So exquisite how the glimmer shone. Fear overcame my curious soul, But my thirst for knowledge Conquered the whole. I rushed to discover the glint of light Forgetting the cautiousness, Forgetting the fright. The sliver of light grew and grew Until no more darkness I knew.
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Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
Metamorphasis
there are things that no one has bothered to teach people like you the ones who change friends with the weather and sit at tables crowded with people who don't know your name as if it can trick your brain into thinking you're less alone than the lack of people surrounding you and it works almost like magic pandora's box is presented in front of you and you have no hands on your shoulder telling you not to peek the gods above you are silent, no matter how tightly you push your palms together, your requests fall on deaf ears with no warnings or red ribbons or safety locks all of your past experiences forgotten all of your mother's advice shoved deep into the parts of your chest that are closed off to the public all of the nights that come seven months later hidden under your pillowcase you forget the taunting "daddy issues" and how you flinch every time someone raises their voice you exist openly, in a way that you've heard is synonymous with recklessness for the ones who haven't documented the way you stay up for hours each night begging the stars to send someone to love you begging the gods who have shunned you to stop losing your pieces when you hit the pavement there are things that no one has bothered to teach people like you there are lessons that you've had to learn from experience your cautiousness clashes with recklessness and your abandonment fears are categorized as something else entirely and no matter how you paint this picture it is not poetic you do not fall in love you fall and fall and fall apart
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Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 2:05 AM UTC
written sometime in may
there are things that no one has bothered to teach people like you the ones who change friends with the weather and sit at tables crowded with people who don't know your name as if it can trick your brain into thinking you're less alone than the lack of people surrounding you and it works almost like magic pandora's box is presented in front of you and you have no hands on your shoulder telling you not to peek the gods above you are silent, no matter how tightly you push your palms together, your requests fall on deaf ears with no warnings or red ribbons or safety locks all of your past experiences forgotten all of your mother's advice shoved deep into the parts of your chest that are closed off to the public all of the nights that come seven months later hidden under your pillowcase you forget the taunting "daddy issues" and how you flinch every time someone raises their voice you exist openly, in a way that you've heard is synonymous with recklessness for the ones who haven't documented the way you stay up for hours each night begging the stars to send someone to love you begging the gods who have shunned you to stop losing your pieces when you hit the pavement there are things that no one has bothered to teach people like you there are lessons that you've had to learn from experience your cautiousness clashes with recklessness and your abandonment fears are categorized as something else entirely and no matter how you paint this picture it is not poetic you do not fall in love you fall and fall and fall apart
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21
Sometimes, midnight thoughts override everything. Even the ability to sleep, to shut down the station in my head. Staring into the dark corners of a bedroom doesn't seem to help. Thinking of you at 12:03 PM doesn't seem to help either. So what happened last night? I slipped into the newly-washed sheets and closed my eyes... Your face appeared. It was the face you were wearing last time we were together. The cautiousness behind those green eyes was not opaque, love. You stoped yourself. From watching my lips when I spoke to you... From watching my hands when I worked... From watching my eyes whenever you discreetly tested the uncharted waters of the Ocean of Us. But I saw you. How sly you must've thought you were (are). But you weren't, really. Because at midnight, the unconcious deductions I formed that day awoke from their shallow graves...                                                                        And I saw you.                                                                                             ...the definition of "sleeplessness".
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Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
Lack of sleep and thoughts of you
You were there Around 2009, I sat on our favorite tree branch with the summer rays beaming down on my arms. It was the perfect picture for the missing spot in your scrapbook. You had hoisted me up there. Around 2013, I walked into your farmhouse at Christmas ready for a night of food, and presents. I ran to living room to check out the tree, before saying hi. You didn't even get a hug. Around 2002, My mom screamed out, while breaking my dad’s hand. The doctor opened the door, and let you in first. Your eyes filled with tears. You loved me from the start. Around 2015, The shouts echoed throughout room and in my head. I sat crying on the coach as her shadow loomed over me. It was supposed to be a nice vacation. You stood up for me. Around 2006, I ran down the hill and about tripped over my feet. I was the first one there, you were far behind. I jumped on the swing. I loved to fly. You pushed me. Around 2019, I hugged you with cautiousness. Your frail arms wrapping around my body. My eyes turned to your water cup on the table, it was only half way gone. The tears started down my cheek but I wiped them away quickly. You didn’t deserve it. Around 2029, I looked in the mirror all dressed in white. My mascara ran a bit. It was almost time to change my life. Hopefully for the better. I searched the aisle and saw every face staring at me. I felt yours too. You were there… Somewhere. Inspired by Deborah Harding, "How I Knew Harold."
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May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 10:41 AM UTC
You were there
Lethal vines wrapped in cotton, Complex thoughts rotten, Divulged emotions best kept hidden, Vicious teeth and cautiousness of being bitten, Eavesdropping inside your subconscious, Thoughts mischievous, Open up my love, open up your heart, We will never have an ending and this will be the start.
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Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 5:30 PM UTC
Invitation
“You’ve made me feel like **** again,” I say to myself mentally, Aiming it more so towards my anxiety Yet again. Another snooping situation, mixed into the incapability of walking away. I can’t leave things alone. My mind wishes to know every ounce of detail but I, personally, don’t really care. I want to write, sleep and live freely without a form of worry blanketing me and stopping me from breathing in deeply to calm down. However I let it do what it pleases, regardless of whether I’m stuck with a depressed feeling and sorrowful tune surrounding me. I tell myself, “You just have to ride through it.” And for the first time, it’s easy, But after that it becomes tiresome and boring and all you want is for the feeling to go away. I am the only person who can make it go away, but I can’t. I hold onto it unintentionally, as if a part of me will disintegrate if I let go. And so we fall into a never ending cycle of my anxiety, Where I ask myself continuously “When will it end?” And my mind tells me it’s not entirely sure but that I should be grateful for what it’s giving me. That it’s giving me safety and cautiousness, helping me not to be percieved as too naive. But I don’t care for that much anymore. So instead of ridding of my anxiety, I’m always ridding of those who unintentionally and unawarely have created it for me. It’s easier to be rid of you physically than of something within my own mind.
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 11:34 AM UTC
Anxiety (1)