right before your eyes

Keep looking

Keep trying

Keep believing

 

and just before your eyes,

you’ll see it

come to you.

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Don’t be a monster, you’re not a monster

Please don’t be a monster
Don’t let it devour you
It hurts to hurt but
Don’t let it seethe you
Remember when you were a little girl
And you would try to see it through

Don’t be a monster
Just let these feelings pass
Think of all the soft petals
Brushing across your rosey cheeks

Its okay, you are still you
They are just old
And hurting to make it through
Be nice to them, and work for them

They raised you with love and honey
And warm milk and enough money
For you to grow and smile

So remember those smiles
Remember their smiles

You are not a monster
So don’t be a monster
Don’t let their harsh words devour you
They still love you
And always will love you

Your mouth must hold the thorny roses
For their empty vases
Because they poured all their water
Into your empty glass
So you can be full and
Face the world of faces
And be quenched to face its heat
So don’t ever slip and beat
And make yourself feel weak

Serve them well with your full glass
And hold their thorny roses
So you all can smell its soft petals

And plant their last smile
For their short while left.

They don’t know you

Look a stranger in the eye

They have no reason to give a lie 

Except for those you know

People don’t know you
When you’re the last person remembered

People don’t know you
When they think they can purge their indecenies upon you without a second thought

They don’t know you
When they think they know the world

In reality, you are the stranger
Simply passing by, searching for all the answers to not how and what, but why and when

Because they don’t see that you could see them
They don’t know you.

Because you are a stranger simply passing by. 

Garden by the wishing well

Garden by the wishing well

Take these distilled moments and let it be spilt into a wishing well. 
bc it’s meant to be spent
And lost
Let love be treasured
there’s no expiration
create a new default
Where faults are now fertile ground
For gold dafodils to sprout
Weave a new basket to pick away all doubt
there is no rush
There is no hurry
whisper all your fears away
with the soft glow of late bloom
let it consume the grief away
let it lash the confusion with lush lavender
be rained upon with cream rose petals
that reflect good memories from the past

This is your garden and that is your well.
so flourish
And let trickle the days you fell

A threshold past the heavens

are you catching on
are you catching onto how each cloud reflects the sky in its own view
bringing color and form in every possible hue
are you catching onto how each cloud gives the sky purpose

and how the sky finds purpose with the clouds
and that we see the final scene
with all of it’s everlasting depth and beauty

are you catching onto how this scenery is the secret to all we yearn
that it’s all we need to learn
every breeze plows the clouds apart
fashioning each strobe most delicately through the horizon
there’s wisdom in every whispered wonder in whatever cloud that descends a little lower than usual

do you see the magnitude before your eyes
what is arrogance
what is pride
what is ownership
when that which is beyond us
is past our bewilderment

what little is left
but love
something we can acquire

a threshold of its own
a bridge that leads to further discovery
creating beauty from all the past and misery
as the sun sets away last of it’s days fusing light
to fall in love with the moon
and enlighten another path
that can only be seen in the night
and each star to twinkle us through time until we set again

and again, and again.

for us to find a reason to smile again,

and again.

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.

A mystifying divine right, revenge.

Revenge
A destroyer of Nations
A fuel for hate

A sweet sultering darkness that swoons over all thoughts into a mystifying divine right.
Pure intimidation and lust at once
Drunk over the word loss and chance
Staunch over a decieving thrust to jump the bridge into a searing chance of bliss and victory, only to land head first into a landmine of regret and loss of time
It’s another realm , not a dream , not a nightmare, it’s an illusion- a smog intoxicating the heart

Smoldering in pain from scathed open wounds, only to heal them with red hot stones, and to leave a defying scar, a trophy of loss, defeat, and revenge. Has harmony been achieved?

There is no victory in revenge

the memory of faltering to the ground is still Stark and glowing amidst the dark

A mystifying divine right,

but there is no victory in revenge

If justice was the sun that brings light at day 

Then revenge would be a a black hole that consumes all. 

There is no victory in revenge.