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The only time I'm not stressed
Is when I've worked myself past the point of breaking

Being too tired to feel is my comfort zone
I feel so at home in running around
I don't rest while I sleep
Instead to-do lists and unfinished problems are scripted into my dreams
Using the backs of my eyelids as a whiteboard for tomorrow's tasks

I can't tell if this constant state of movement is Newton's Law
Or a feable attempt to be enough--for no one but myself

I second guess each right answer, every step forward
My thoughts get a racetrack in lieu of a bed

I know this isn't normal
So imagine what I'd do to be in the moment I'm living
Instead of the somewhere else I always am
Amber Blank May 2014
For:
A person once noticed in a crowd.
A confident young girl with the world at her feet.
A dreamer who believed she could save the world.
The free spirit who followed wherever the wind blew her.
The singer, who may not remember every note.
The rockstar in the bathroom mirror.
The lover of language.
The bleeding heart of a humanitarian.
The nieve teenager.
The believer of promises.
The innocense lost.
The future journalist.
The wife who never had a husband.
The vain reflextion in every shinning surface.
The painter of worlds.
The doodler of notes.
The princess of the apple trees
The tomboy covered in lace.
The brave captive of twisted words.
The enlightened empress
The solitude of a silent sister that brought peace.
The queen of correct
The fighter of the feable minded
The deep thinker lost in her darkness
The mother of happiness
The old soul trapped in this body
The sensative spirit that feels more than the eye can see.
The sleepless gaurd of our home.
The hostess of friendship
For all is me
For all you will see
andrew juma Jan 2016
The sun was just attempting
To break free off the holds
Of the eastern horizon
Feable orange rays streaming in

And i was struggling
To break free from your confection enfoldment
Daybreak shouldnt  find me here

Your warmth, your gentle touch was so ensnaring last night
Your voice filled with so many secrets
Was the soundtrack of my night enslavery

to the plecantero rendezvous
That will remain between you and me
Though we are not supposed to be

You were whispering to me
How last night blew your mind
And now you wanted the tape to rewind

Where was your man?
I didnt care then...
Last night  you invited me in
I remember you standing at the door
In a blue lingerie...

"Baby I got to go."
But you wouldnt let me
"Stay for a minute longer"
You worked your magic
And i didnt need convincing

My mouth given a taste of the forbidden
The guilt turning to exhiliration
We were lost in oblivion
And then he came In

I didnt hear the door turning
I didnt hear his soldier boy boots on the floor
But i saw him standing over us.

you held on to me, was it fear?
Bewitched to not see his tear
And the hatred in his eyes
You told him you'd made up your mind

that was your welcome home
to the soldier lover boy
Who had been walking all night  
Knowing you would be waiting

the heart wants what it wants
You wanted love
and warmth in the cold nights
The love i gave, but was illegal

When he lifted up his pistol
Saying he cannot accept competition
Especially from 'this bug'
I never thought it would be lethal

He decided i should live
But both of us should miss you
I dived for his gun and we struggled
Two strayed into your head
And that was the end of him too

The illegal love blew your mind
Daybreak shouldnt have found me there
I remember it all
Your whispers
blood all over like a ritual

The lethal love
The illegal love
But i still love you
To me you are never dead
andrew juma Apr 2016
Two autumn leaves shed off
Though feable we double up strong
Not mature enough they say
But today we break away

We let the winds blow us
Keeping scorners at bay
We float away together
Even though gravity pulls at down
it doesnt pull as apart

You are will be the orange leaf
And  I will be the yellow one
Heading for the still waters beneath us
Knowing we will be humus

Holding together makes us last longer
We know there is no forever
But that is no cause to fear

The presence is what matters
The sea of calmness
And the clarity of the blue sky
When we float together
And drop in the sea of extinction

Causing  ripples to slit through the still waters
We hug together tight
Eternity begins in our ending
PK Wakefield Oct 2014
rife oh do you the new totally unique
obscene with low lean muscles Spring
feel not so near so far when stocks of
earth are steeped in deep so roots a'dying

(the little glad hand of sun outstretches
and into reaches the noosed purple
of aching darkness' ancient peak

the unfurling nuisance
of its ardent beam
to let of golden crimson
a burning rill to pour from far above)

all wan glory

all feable living

in the broken body of the shriveled Dove
There is a difference in sitting in a room and wanting someone to ask you a question you can answer, so that maybe they would see the significance in your voice
And the Quiet Knowing, that you are valuable. Unique. Have a story. Are interesting, and insightful, and worthy.
Seeking worthiness seems feasible in feable terms how does one get quiet and be fulfilled, allowing the knowing to be enough?
You want to be enough.
Enough is relative and realistically speaking so many don't think anything is enough.
Silence.
How quiet can your Mind get
So your Soul can speak up
When life is lived Soulfully it is fulfilled in the knowing.
The quiet Knowing, that you are exactly where it feels good for your Soul to be...
To Be.
To just, be.
Quietly.
Sitting in a room full of strangers and someone asks you, what your name is
The response can feel like a pull to ask you another question you know you can answer
And a quiet response that says, it is this, but you dont feel like this, so even though the letters still fit together the same, when you tell them, it will tell them nothing..
To be heard, is to feel connected
All else is a meeting of egos that never really says much at all.
How can anyone know you at all
If you're scared, at all, of allowing the Quiet Knowing, to be absolutely, unapologetically, enough.
Too far, she always feels.
You've felt too far, too loudly, too many times, too late, too early.
She is me, and it is important to clarify that.
I yearn to remember that I am so much, enough.

- Blessings -

— The End —