Sketch
10:44 PM
It's those moments.
When you realize you are not just a human being, but a loved being.
That you are not alone. Even though you have been wandering around aimlessly, mindlessly all along.
And those words. They become more than just syllables and positive thinking.
Suddenly they come to life, dancing, mesmerizing. And when you take a better look, a spiritual oasis, found. Surely, somewhere, someone ought to be looking for you, after you. And the vacuum & dead space surrounding, inside you, might not be so shallow anymore.
That you are not alone. Even though you have been wandering around aimlessly, mindlessly all along.
And those words. They become more than just syllables and positive thinking.
Suddenly they come to life, dancing, mesmerizing. And when you take a better look, a spiritual oasis, found. Surely, somewhere, someone ought to be looking for you, after you. And the vacuum & dead space surrounding, inside you, might not be so shallow anymore.
Warm rain, drain, drip.
Where doth it come from?
Because I am not even sad.
Just overwhelmed.
Not anxious, but protected & sheltered, from fears. Moved, to set aside worries.
Where doth it come from?
Because I am not even sad.
Just overwhelmed.
Not anxious, but protected & sheltered, from fears. Moved, to set aside worries.
A cleansing process? Maybe. Bleaching. Yes please.
However, the guilt always finds its way home.
A cognitive niche.
Even though I am mad and blessed, it is often difficult to extend. Gift.
A cognitive niche.
Even though I am mad and blessed, it is often difficult to extend. Gift.
And I wonder,
if the process of growing up doesn't make skin hardened and callous. And soon, a celebration of my stubborn 50's anniversary. Control & insensitivity, themed.
if the process of growing up doesn't make skin hardened and callous. And soon, a celebration of my stubborn 50's anniversary. Control & insensitivity, themed.
Disgust. With self.
I learned. That actively rejecting undesirable parts doesn't create wonders. And the cycle of becoming what you hate, endless. Do know. That the words you speak over yourself dissipate. One after another. Shadows-esque. Thickening and thinning, air.
A confession.
I often feel powerless to make a change, in myself, in the world. So easily stuck in my ways. Unable to pull self out, through. Even with the help of others, I still can't stand straight. And I keep striving, daredeviling. In hope that tomorrow, be a better day. That morrow, I be changed, soaring.
How sad. A sadness undeserving of tears. How does one even mourn of hopelessness. Emptiness. Lazy...nest. A human condition alright. And the symptomatic me here, speaking.
So why do you tell me to love myself? What do you mean exactly? Can I really forgive myself and get up, shameless, on both feet? Trials come and go, why I need you. You to lift up head and lookey. Eye to I. So I see what you see. Dust off my clothes and tell me you proud, no matter. That you always be. Next to me. Until end, journey. So I know. Be reassured. That I lone not. And the road ahead, worth marching.
So in exhaustion, I toil.
In pain, I struggle.
And in love, I become.
In pain, I struggle.
And in love, I become.
More, so much. To come, 2chieve. Each milestone, precious. Each destination, intriguing. So don't you dare give up on me. And do not let go. Hand.
Now carry me. Hold me close.
Shoulder me on your back, so I can see beyond myself. Forward, in time.
Let me have a peek of that place.
Where I draw my last breath.
Shoulder me on your back, so I can see beyond myself. Forward, in time.
Let me have a peek of that place.
Where I draw my last breath.
