Crying in words

Why cant I stop this overwhelming feeling of heartbreak and rigidity?  My emotions have become immobile- unable to shift and change. Instead, it’s off the charts in angst and frozen in the tundra of a once blooming spring.  Dreams and whimsy, all flushed into a sinkhole of reality. A blackhole of burden, pressure, and a repeating pattern of hopes time-warped into non-existence. 

 

This is why I hate being tickled with the happy ideas of life’s average milestones. Because average is exactly what I’m not. Average is aristocracy among all those around me dwelling in posh politics and wealth. I’m living in my own world, within the world of my immediate community, within the world of my city, within a grim world of war, poverty, and distrust.  Of course the overall world has it’s little honeycomb pockets of honey with honest-working people buzzing in their lives for the greater good.  

 

But coming back to me, my purpose, and my stability, I’ve no choice but to rest my case of happiness into studying, labor, and discipline. I’m a soldier in my own war, and there is no giving in.  

 

So here I am, chiseling my goals out of the glaciers of my gloom.

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my nose is caught high on a hook

The pain of thought would have diminished as the excess scent of incense blows away,   leaving the gentle aroma behind.
Instead, I have now tainted my feet and must allow it to heal, as well as to let my hardened tongue to soften and stop oozing the puss of angst and pride.
my nose is caught high on a hook, I’m a display of arrogance and humiliation.
I’ve exhausted my soul of proper recompense, I can only move on to tell myself the tall tale of my belligerence.
Complaining leads to further damnation

It’s when the thorns outgrow and envelope the rose of patience and light.
Taking away the sweet fragrance of forbearance and experience, further expelling the ungrown seeds of wisdom.
Had I been patient and silent, I wouldnt have burned my feet on a road of hot black asphalt, only to find a thorny dead end.
Sometimes, we take our privilege to such an extent that it destroys us.

Silence and tears

Sometimes you have to cry over the little things that otherwise an “adult” with thick skin might suck in and deal with.

To cry over the lack of understanding on regardless of whether it’s on your part or theirs.  because regardless, there’s a misunderstanding, and regardless, there’s a ripple ,creating movement in still water.

There isn’t much you can do when it comes to the tongue exercising its malice and expressing its inner pain, all expelled onto you.

You just suck it in.  let your heart succumb to the venom.  and let it cycle through your body into tears.  tears to purify you of your pain, tears to create a quiet stream to carry you to a refuge of silence

Silence and tears, they’re such a perfect duo.

avoiding jealous ppl

Note.

I don’t shy away from trouble, but I shy away from jealous hearts.

With trouble, there’s always an opposite side of the coin, but with jealousy, nobody can show them through except themselves.  and I’d rather not rely on ppl to overcome their jealousy.  I’d rather be safe from them.

In trouble, there’s a chance of 70 excuses, forgiveness, or moving on.  whatever happens, you have freedom of choice.

In the heat of jealousy, there’s no protective shade to shelter you from the burning rays.

 

Nightmare II: War Crimes

My worst nightmare is seeing children crying

scared to death

from bombs and the burning toxic galore

of illegal war

destroying souls and more

celebrated by the world’s lovers of gore

as its broadcasted to the masses

that it’s the  water for your planted fears

that you’ve been taught for years

to kill others

who don’t look like you

 

women and children, and men alike

are bloodied and traumatized

dying and hospitalized

wondering when their hospitals

will be attacked too.

 

Palestine, Syria, these arab sisters are victims of war crimes

all under the guise of terrorism

as if creating rivers of blood will drown ISIS

giving in to the lust and playing with chemical attacks

and torturing civilians alive

It will earn the safe western public a medal… for war on terrorism

raping women

kidnapping children

torturing men

an arab genocide

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nightmare 1- Society’s trend

My worst nightmare is being bullied and outcasted

My worst nightmare is becoming homeless, dropped as a beggar

getting locked up

My worst nightmare is getting murdered

Getting in debt

lots of debt, neo-slavery

Having no choice but resorting to theft

having  no morals left but bravery

just as scary, getting raped and knocked up

and after that, getting raped by society, – no justice

while my innocence is surrendered

and that bastard is praised for his gender

given his future, and kissed on his ass

this reality is all worse than murder

because it’s accepted

and takes away lives

in worse ways than murder

a slow death

emotions and humanity snatched

likened to less than an animal

what a nightmare we live in.