Freedom from your thoughts, is the real freedom you need. If you’re a slave to your mind what difference is the freedom granted to you?
Toasting to the mind that I have,
It only knows how to cause me panic,
Anxiety, and pain.
Toasting to the death you are giving me,
Not the great job you do.
Hair super messy.
As if the wind has been waving.
Though she’s in the room - not outside.
She’s panting with exhaustion.
Definitely, she’s been working hard.
She’s definitely excited.
Though happiness doesn’t seem to be it.
The wind is not there for the hair.
The air is not there for the hugs.
The panting is not from sitting.
She’s been fighting.
Against the suctions of my mind.
Trying to bring me back.
I need to know.
What it feels like?
What it is that I feel like?
What it is that you make me feel like?
What it is that the situations make me feel like?
What drowning feels like?
Wanting to scream and water fills your lungs.
Wanting to cry but the water washes the tears away.
Wanting to express something in anyway.
But the water, and the drowning only allows for panics.
It doesn’t express any other emotions.
Drowning is the equivalent of my anxiety.
For I will drown and die first before I can express where my mind and emotions are.
And you will only see my panic.
To the me that still worries,
There is no need for the pressure,
Or the self inflicted pain.
The only person feeling it is you –
Published at The Poetry Bar on 05/25/2020
Cry all the rivers that flow within you.
Let it all out.
Fill the dried river with all your tears.
Running across the room
for the fear of being trapped in
is very much so, the difference from when a child
for the walls are moving in quickly
even after it started slowly
the windows are closed shut
and covered in black
the doorway narrows
everything becomes more eerie
and nothing ever looks the same
the room from brightly lit
to the darkest pit you’ll ever encounter
dashing for you life
to avoid being crushed by the walls
this is daily living in my mind
for everyone thinks i am crazy
but my mind is the only one that believes me
for it lives the abuse with me
The moment when the music gets you in your feels.
Something like that air that you breath.
It becomes the existence of your being.
Blocking every receptor of pain.
Providing an uplifting feel.
A happiness that can only be felt through the song.
Something to close you out of the reality.
The pain that lurks while the music plays.
And can be felt when the music stops.
Is it so?
That there maybe so much to in someone you know?
So much so that you still do not know?
Can it be?
That maybe you did not know them at all?
Is it so?
That they build around you?
And you will never know?
Discovery of the things that makes everything unique.
The you, the he, the she.
The things that changes you.
Fish, and cat, and dog.
The discovery of everything that makes you – you.
Takes the lifetime of a; lifetime.
And at the end defeated you are to know,
That you will leave and still not know.
What makes you, well… you.
Sometimes the rain falls slowly
And other times it has speed to it
And other times it has weight
The rain is the indication of the same thing
In different ways
It looks the same
Smells the same
But it traverses different when it falls
Like the tears coming down you face
Those tears flow differently depending on the pain.
For many reasons.
There is a ton of darkness in a small area of shade.
We can see the light around it.
It is so vast.
But have you ever tried to figure out how dense is that shade?
There is many pain, many tears, and many a hurt waiting for someone in that shade.
We all have a shade in our lives.