It's hard, no? When you had enough & ready to call it quits. Where you're down on your knees to pray, throwing pride away. Don't you know it's good for you, get lost in a brand new space. Don't run away, now, ageless voices are cheering you on. Make yourself the guide & them your witness, through winter comes spring. When you're at your lowest, know that you are never alone, feel the warmth. It's your chance at living, like those that came before, make them proud. Don't run away, now, it's your gravest self saying, "Don't run away."
Category: random feels
Love Poem to My Bed #2.
Oh, God, my bed, I'm so in love with you. Please don't leave me. I will keep you warm. I will do "any thing". I will rub against you until it's time for a wash. We can have a three-some with the pillow, no body will ever know. I will crumble you up like a feathery hill, then wear you down like a melting marshmallow. Please don't go, I know it's noon. I put a sleepy spell on you.
Shorter.
I'm most aware when I'm half asleep. That's when the two worlds meet. The sound from the mind does go out & create, then greets the ears a wonderful clink. For the moment, a dream is not a dream.
Short.
Walking on the edge, until you do you will never see the other side. What a joke to be wise. To pretend there's an answer to life.
Thunder & rain.
Tangential rain,
void of substantial things,
passing with no delay.
In mind it spatters,
making gentle waves
smoothing the cuts.
Oh, dear thunder,
how long has it been
since your flash has
illuminated the state of grace?
Sing again, mourning souls.
Wipe away your tears.
We are still the same.
Burn.
It's not my fault they are all twisted twines. It is my fault for ever believing in them. Tying my worth on fragile egos, hiding my made-up sorrows. "I don't want to be strong, yet." "I want someone to carry me to tell me it's all gonna be fine." Now I know it's all bullshit. The intuition is always correct. Bypass the ritualistic liars, it's about who gets fucked & who gets paid double time. It's a world without reason: you can be cruel & people will worship you if you set the rules; the thieves thrive while the kind-hearted lose their lives & minds. A world in our image, burning from the inside.
What it says.
The Third State.
They say you are either in or you are out, but there's a third state they don't talk about. It belongs to the judges who see all but feel none. It's a state of being neither living nor dead. Only the hunger for both is constant. Never earth-bound, tiny injuries profound. Absorbing all, in the end, still an empty shell. The fate of the coward, the saint & the wisest of them all.
Masterpiece.
I collect shattered pieces and recognize it is me without ever knowing if it will ever be complete. The scriptures & prophecies lead to nowhere if you just follow it. Have you made your masterpiece?
Space.
I want that space where I won't be judged where I won't be rushed. I want that space where I can lay back or get fired up. There are wonders that can't be made nor planned, but to be witnessed & protected from the ones who like to possess, who impose order over what they don't even understand. I want life & death under the stars & sky. I want that space, again.
hotsurf_ 