She was more drawn out to the belief of keeping a certain subject as broad as God in a blissful oblivion absent to thought. Nothing could be possibly known more, because it was only created. Every starting thing was made simple, yet structural. But with the branches of life and the seeds of time that dissolve through sand, we were made unique and erratic, all minds wishing upon the same desire but motioned out differently, that’s why life as a whole can be chaotic at times. We were meant to find the moments that would take our breath away, not live droned out to the dying pulse in our veins that weigh us down. It’s never possible to be the same as one, only carry the same traits and characteristics that grown on each other. It is only by the self of one that can connect like the half circle if the other self was in one. She wrote it down, trying to escape reality when she felt drowned in her thoughts, unable to word the worry or the drum that keeps beating her down. She writes to know herself and forgets often. Why does she lose thought often? It’s like the harder she concentrates more of the thought process will shaken. Maybe she’s been trying too much, maybe she has been trying too little- but she knows that isn’t what she thinks, that is what the ego mind wants her to think, all negative thoughts on the Self drains its energy, leaving the mind empty, and vulnerable to attacks, leading her astray from Self-fulfillment. The thoughts have been moving slower, as the concentration has been growing. It is only repetition that allows the mind and body to be accustomed to changes that is not yet mastered. It takes patience, and a whole lot of time. As one leads a life of light and self-enrichment, it’s only natural withinside to spread the knowledge of ones self growth and enlightened existence. There’s always effort that is put into every action, but within knowing your Self, it should be effortless.
Struggling to find a balance yet the balance is nearing closer, like a consistent circle drawn; effortless, yet not all circles come out perfectly- there will never be an outside balance, because what is a want from the outside is a wish for the ego inside. Scolding the mind, scolding internally to not sway away from the perfect line; for we were perfectly made imperfectly. Losing thought often, losing the track of balance, but thankfully acknowledging that; the path grows less narrower everyday- for everyday is a positive experience drawn out differently in its own way. We were all born as what we are; spontaneous atoms- idealists looking for truths of the unknown- creating the not thought of.
Deep inside a hollow heart
Stitched in between chained lies
A seed was planted and hope has sprouted,
Clouds darkened over…
Hope relinquished its light, but the seed stayed alive, it’s blooms shining when the sun had come out, sadly looking at the sun to replenish what had fled
An urge of the mind sometimes wants me to end my life quickly- throwing myself over railings, crashing head on at 100mph, consuming multitude of colorful pills, falling onto broken shards of glass, pulling a ghastly trigger-exploding my brain amongst the floor and walls that were painted red with the pain that floods my head. All of these are inviting- yet I still fear the sensation of the air in my lungs being invaded by the water incasing my body- the sensation of drowning not offering me a quick relief, only a suffocating death I recognized to fear more then the poke of an eye. I fantasize about my death often; how, when, even where it could happen… Even though I fear my end, I oddly greet it as time ticks slowly on a padlock that holds grim truths. I could curse the world and the habitants who live on it, but it is I who subconsciously laughs at my own self loathing, the black pit in my stomach that lurches at my doubts and worries, my fears amplifying as I feel I’m being launched back into a familiar past feeling I spite more then myself. I laugh often at nothing, because I feel as if I’m slowly edging into the pool of Hell, only to be beckoned out to be thrown back in-
Maybe I’m throwing myself back in.
I feel as if I have so much love to give, I’ve finally opened up my bare chest, arms wide open-
Only to be blackened out by the ones who I wanted to give the most- thinking that maybe I was never wanted here, only to be made, brought up in my youth and casted out another disciple under a spiteful society.
My heart lurches out to whatever seems secondary to comfort now my necessity. My heart is black, caving itself in. My heart is patient to something so hard to grasp, time laughing in my doubting mind. Blue jays giving me a fateful hope, smoking seeds from the ground they grew. Tears being my silent token from my soul. Loud screams piercing my mind at night, soft knocks at my windows being my evil collapse, a relapse that’ll have me cold at the veins. Purple lights- I smile- as I hold a purring animal tight. Beady eyes looking at broken lies soothed deeply underneath heavens bringings.
Lay me down to sleep, closing my eyes, I whisper to a holder with shiny metal, kill it…
Piercing my bosom, I fall into a sleep, darkened arms greeting my goodbye to life.
Cut short at the seams
Thought I could mend broken strings- dangling in front of me, my voice drifting it away so it seems…
Bond I must with Bose and a pack, music flushing out the chaotic screams ringing in my ears- a shattered fact- I must’ve thought I’d avoid, only slithering back to bed.
I know that
It won’t matter much longer, so I know the end
The wind taking me closer to a destination anywhere but broken strings-
“Broken bonds” a blue bird sings “away the cloudy, thee holds a lighten torch in a soulful misunderstood body”
I picked up a shard of glass and couldn’t help running my fingertips over it’s sharp edges
Sometimes wanting to carve my skin underneath it’s rigid flaws, take bliss in the crimson pain that excites my dying wishes… Sometimes wanting to cut my own lifeline of the powerful urging sensations my darkness brings me.
I fear not of the day I die- but the moment where I’ll have no reason to keep breathing, a truth that’ll cease my living thoughts and plunge me in a dead darkness with translucent arms beckoning me in.