Abstruse one

"Crying is actually therapeutic – not something I like doing. But, now and then, it’s what we all find our selves doing because it’s the only outlet to anything. Yes, crying is an involuntarily therapeutic act. We don’t want to do it because we like to pretend that we’re stronger than that. We like to believe that tears can’t wear us down. We like to feel like we’re above the childish act of crying. We’re ‘mature’ adults. But, who’s to say what’s mature? And no one ever made a law that stated that those who cry are innocent and unaware of the tragedy that is the world. I believe that the maturity lies in accepting that, at the end of it all, I’m only human; there’s only so much I can do. And even though I won’t cry in front of a thousand eyes watching me (I won’t even cry in front of the eyes of a loved one), I will cry in the confines of my room. I will cry in solitude, I will cry in the dar...

"I cry because no matter how much we shield ourselves and no matter how many walls we build around us, occasionally, someone is always going to be able to tear those walls and bring our guard down. It’s the basic rule of living and breathing and feeling – emotions, things, pain. I cry because I realise that in that moment, that is the highest point that I have climbed and the lowest pit I have fallen into. And be it high or low, there is no one to fall with you, climb with you or join you. It’s you and only you; no matter what you do, where you go or how hard you try to hide.I cry in wonder of what I have come to be; of what I have accomplished, all by myself when it was something I never imagined me doing. I cry because I’m surprised at my own strengths. I cry because I wish I didn’t have those strengths. You see, I believe that we only face that which we can endure. So maybe if I didn’t have those strengths, I wouldn’t have to endure. The tear...

"I cry in anger because I know no other way to show it. It’s easy when you have a temper that is short and when you find it fairly simple to blast off in someone else’s face without having to feel bad about the hurt you might have caused them. How much more simple would it be to just be selfish at least once in a while. I cry because I am selfless and I can’t be anything but that. I cry because I am patient to the point where one is often taken for granted. People tend to forget that the other person, whom they ask to endure troubles that are not meant for them, yet, are also human and are, therefore, subject to falter. People forget. I cry because people forget. I cry for memories that have been lost in another’s mind. I cry for the memories that remain in mine. Why didn’t I lose the memories too? Wouldn’t it be easier to simply forget? Then one wouldn’t have to remember. And if you don’t remember something, it can’t haunt you."

I cry. I cry for everything and nothing. I cry for happiness and sadness; for the known and the unknown and for the scars that are so deep they cannot be seen. I cry because that’s who I am – a girl who feels more deeply and strongly than most humans do. Alas, I shouldn’t because the more you feel, the more alert you are to the emotions around you. But how can I help the way I was made. May be I was created to cry for those who have no one o cry for them. Maybe I was born to belong to the world and all its unheard mercies.So, I cry and it’s nothing I am ashamed of because it makes me stronger than I was before the tears came down and yet, it makes me vulnerable in my own solitude. I cry because I know I’m human and tender and fragile. But, I also cry because in that tenderness and vulnerability, my spirit remains unbreakable. I cry because in this maturity, I am still that child who was brought into this world, crying.

“I know you're tired but come, this is the way... In your light, I learn how to love.  In your beauty, how to make poems.  You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you,  but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.”     “You and I have spoken all these words, but for the way we have to go, words are no preparation. Let it dissolve in your ocean. A mountain keeps an echo deep inside. That's how I hold your voice.” “Do not feel lonely, the entire universe is inside you.Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion. Set your life on fire. Seek those who fan your flames.”  Sorrow prepares you for joy.  It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to gro...

Eyes don’t lie  Because Eyes don’t speak  Eyes, you can trust  You can rely  They don’t hear  They cannot speak  They see what they want  They close when they can’t  They trust themselves but not thee  Trust your eyes, trust what you see  In rage they are red, when sick…Yellow  When sad they are dead,  When in love they glow.  Every emotion they will show  You can read a mind through the eye  Eyes convey truth, they don’t lie.

I hate the fatal outcome, I’m never tired of a life, I hate all seasons, when I become Unable write a word in them, and poems born on strife. I hate cold cynicism, sarcasm, Enthusiasm I cannot trust, and also When stranger trying read my letters, Moreover, stands behind my back. I hate it, when in the middle Discussion being interrupted, I hate backstabbers,  Also - shots in forehead. I hate the gossips in the form of versions, Worms of doubt, honour’s needle, Or, - all the time in wrong direction, Or, - sound of an iron on the glass. I hate full confidence, It’s better when the brakes have faded. I hate that word as “honour” is forgotten, What’s more, - in honour deceiving friends behind their backs. I see the broken wings… And have no pity. You’re asking why? I cannot bear violence and helplessness, I hate myself, when I’m afraid, I cannot stand when innocent are beaten, I hate when people try to get i...

You’ll say: “Don’t cry,  There’s one more night we’ve got” And one more time you’ll whisper – “You are mine” Once more…you’ll look into my eyes, and see the tear falling on your hand, You’ll say “Tomorrow is another day… but … don’t cry” You’ll say: “Don’t cry, It’s just turned out our fate  Would not allow us be together anymore… where have I been before? So late we met… But at this moment you are mine, Just stay with me tonight…Just one more time…Last time.” You’ll say: “I cannot just forget, I can’t move on… And still don’t know how could I  Let you go last time…. Don’t cry. I’ll find you, wherever you can be… I’ll write a hundred poems, and dedicate them all to you, And if I meet you once again among the crowd, I’ll never let you...

I m not asking destiny to return you back to me I know that happiness doesn't come twice in this life... In my mind I'm floating downwind In a river of fire filled with my desire, My hair blowing in the wind safe in your embrace... But in Reality I'm on a plane sharing this pain I cry in vain as this plane climb higher Leaving the one I desire... Drift into sleep, Wake up sweating and cold... Pain in my chest will not let me to forget Our last shout of love...and forgiveness entwine In our farewell embrace. I won't forget you...Ever Your love Your grief Your smiles so deep Passion so complete... And still...I close my eyes and think of you Always and forever Our moments spent together... Like lost treasures... The pain of this loss will always stay with me, Until the day this tormented heart of mine stop beating...

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.) God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade: Exit seraphim and Satan's men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.) I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)"

I have decided to be my own hero Not because I'm a good role model or someone to look up too  But because it will just be so much easier My decisions won't shock me  nor will my actions The drug use seems so tragic  and the gunshots leave us terrified But if its just me I won't be taken aback  By how much I have changed  And no one will care about what I do  Cuts on my wrists wouldn't be front page news and my failures will be forgotten and ignored But most of all I think that if its me I won't find the drug use that tragic  And the gun shots won't be that terrifying

I knew it was wrong from the very start I should have never let myself indulge  In this pathetic idea of  us But there I was, hoping to see you around the corner and when you were there my day suddenly had a purpose I started to need you around and couldn't help but smile when you looked at me  I thought I had picked up on little hints from you. That maybe you liked being around me as much as I liked being around you  That maybe you waited around the corner until I was there so you could "bump" into me  Of course none of it was true there were no hints, no waiting behind corners   To be honest I'm embarrassed, you probably hated every second you were around me This is why I don't let these sought of things happen to me but somehow you snuck  through the cracks in my armor And I couldn't get you out I really don't know why I expected any different  Especially from you...

My bad dreams won't leave me alone these thoughts keep circling my sub conscious. They wait till I'm most vulnerable to attack I can't relax not for a second. If I do they are there screaming at me over and over again taunting me till I'm awoken in a cold sweat with tear stained cheeks. I can't go back its too frightening so I sit huddled trying my hardest to  disappear. Until the light shines through my widow and the screams soften slightly and I am forced to carry on till the next time I'm back in bed and the voices take over once again...

I don't want to date you I just want to be with you  I don't want to have to worry about idiotic things like Valentine's day or anniversaries  I don't need you to hold my hand in public or for people to know that I spent the night at your house last Saturday                                         I just want to sit on your bed and talk about the universe. I want to be comfortable enough around you that you can see me bare faced or half dressed without either of us thinking twice about it  I want your hands all over me, holding me to you like I'm the last Breath of air you'll ever have  I don't need something as trivial as a boyfriend  I just want us to be together. In our own unique way.

If I could go back in time and have a conversation with myself from 4 years ago I would in a heartbeat. Not to warn her about anything or to tell her to do things differently but just to simply tell her that she is going to be ok.  Most of the things she is or will worry about work themselves out one way or another and that I am so proud of her  That its ok that she is different to the people she knows because she is going to meet people that like that about her people that make her laugh and smile instead of break her down  I just want to tell her everything is going to be alright because I know that's what she needs to hear

Its easy to call someone beautiful when they have spent an hour doing there hair and make up, when they are wearing a skin tight cocktail dress and a push up bra  Its more difficult to say it when the hair gets tied up and the make up is smudged by tears the dress replaces with a stained  t- shirt                                                         Because as I'm looking in the mirror right now the last word that comes to my mind is beautiful...

When I hear someone say to someone  "You are what I live for" I don't find it cute. That's a lot of pressure to put on someone and how can your life be consumed by a single person. Do you know what I live for... Sunrises.  Ocean water running over my feet. Laughter. The morning dew. The light in someone's eyes when you complement them.                                   Hugs. Sunsets. I could go on forever and to be honest you're on my list. But you don't need  to carry the burden of keeping me alive.  I live because I think life is beautiful and you are just one small fraction of its many wonders.

The most sexy thing about a guy has nothing to do with his clothes, hair or eye colour. It's in the way he looks at you with longing, when you finally find out he wants you just as badly as you want him. When he pulls you so close to him that there is literally no space between you, because he can't stand the thought of there being any.        When he kisses you, so that it feels as if he is stealing the air from your lungs, and for those few seconds you forget what air even is.      When all thoughts go out the window and its just him, with you,in the most simple way possible. Now that is the definition of sexy.

Its so much easier to push someone away, than to let yourself become vulnerable.                                                      ­           To give them the power to hurt you. Showing your true feelings is relinquishing all your power.  You're trusting them not to take advantage of your weaknesses.  And that, is an absolutely ridiculous notion.  Once weakness is spoted, it is used and abused, untill you are just a quivering mess lying on the floor, wondering how you ever let yourself get into such a situation. I will not be: Vulnerable    Powerless Weak I am strong , because people don't know the real me, and that's how its g...

Today I told someone I loved them, and I meant to more than I could ever describe in words.  But there was a niggling thought in the back of my head.  "It's too soon,"  it whispered. "You should have waited. It's too soon." People will judge me. They will think I'm foolish.  But who is anyone else to tell me about how I love someone? And since when does falling in love have a set rules? Why should I let society decide that my love isn't real, because they don't believe someone can feel this strongly for someone so soon?

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well That, for all they care, I can go to hell, But on earth indifference is the least We have to dread from man or beast. How should we like it were stars to burn With a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me. One day, whether you are 14, 28 or 65, you will stumble upon someone who will start a fire in you that cannot die. However, the saddest, most awful truth you will ever come to find–– is they are not always with whom we spend our lives Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved him, and sometimes he loved me too. Through nights like this one I held him in my arms I kissed him again and again under the endless sky. he loved me sometimes, and I loved him too. How could one not have loved him great still eyes! Tonight I can write the saddest lines. To think that I do not have him. To feel that I have lost him I n o longer love him, that’s certa...

I love you with a love that's forbidden, yet I can't stop. When you look at me my soul shudders with joy.  My heart skips a beat. In me. I want to love you openly  without fear or reservation,  but this is a forbidden love,  so I hide it,  keep it in secret and love you only in my dreams.  For only in my dreams am I acceptable to you,  only in my dreams can my fantasies be realized. 

ou looked into my heart and found my lost dream, A very common one I guess it may seem. No one else like you in my heart is the same, Cuz I've really changed since in my life you came. You told me that my fait rests in my hands, To make life as best I can. You took my hand and out of the shadows we ran. With my back to the dark and my heart towards the light, You told me to do what I thought was right. Even though you promised that you'd always stay, No matter how close you are it feels as though you're miles away. Now as I look back at the past, I realize that time moves by way too fast. The memory of our friendship I hold near, How I wish you could still be here, For you know me better than I know myself, only you have ever seen me cry. But now when I talk you just hear but don't listen to what I have to say, You just pull your heart away. So not even to my self do I want to confess, That as time goes by I don't seem to like you less.

tried so hard.  I tried my best. I gave you my all,  And now there's nothing left. You stole my heart, Then tore it in two. Now I'm falling apart And don't know what to do. Divided by decisions, Burned by the fire, Confused by your words, Tempted by desire. I'm living in the present. My mind is on the past. Not knowing what I'll lose, Not knowing what will last. Blinded by fear, Drowning in doubt, Struggling to be free, Looking for a way out.

I want to run, I want to hide From all the pain he caused inside. I want to scream, I want to cry. Why can't I tell him goodbye? I want to move on, I just can't let go. I love him more than he will ever know. I want to start over, I want to feel free! But this pain will never leave me be. He hurt me bad, the pain is deep. From all the promises he couldn't keep. All the lies, I heard him say. Are in my head and just won't fade. How can I forget him, leave the him behind. Erase the memories from my mind. He doesn't love me, and he never will. He will never care how I feel.

He came into my life when I was just a girl I was happy and young And then he changed my world One night I was in bed And he came to say goodnight except he took a little longer before he turned out the light He really hurt me that night And I didn't know what to do I thought it happened to most I lay in bed that night Hurting inside and out tears streaming down my face I tried hard not to shout out I put that tragic night to the back of my head and then it happened again it was him and me again when he pulled me close to him and again molested me I thought it only happened once When I had done something bad but now I knew I was wrong I told mom everything I felt alone and sad, mom was angry she kicked me out that day and stuck right by his side saying I was attention seeking and that it was all lies so in the end it got too much and I told I lied everything went back to normal I swear I wish I'd died I've told a couple of friends but its ...

Where do I begin to explain the beating?  You watched as I sat there bleeding,  You never cared about my feeling.  My hurt had no healing.  Rape after rape I knew I had to escape,  never allowed to look up,  never allowed to talk..  Beat me so I couldn't walk.. I remember the day I almost died,  you laughed, while I cried.  You beat me so bad I could never withstand the pain, you are insane!  You played me like a game..  This time I win, When you burn in hell, which time will only tell,  god will ask you, "why, why the beating of this woman whom you took to love? You degraded me and put me in dirt,  you loved to see me hurt.  Now that I have gotten away through my planned escape I have no more tears or any fears but the memory will last for years. 

trauma of abuse is never fully gone from a person's consciousness. Its filthy stain leaves its residue on the soul forever. However, like all bad experiences, it is possible to turn this experience into good by developing compassion and empathy for others who have been through this experience. Many people feel that bringing meaning to a traumatic experience is a path to healing. When I turn a negative experience into a tool that brings meaning into my life and others, I am taking the best kind of revenge on my abuser.

I Talk to him He talks to me. My heart, it swells And Begs to be Free. Does he know what's become of me? He hits and shoves Punches galore I know damn well, that it could hurt more. I try not to cry and not show the pain But deep down I know he's winning this 'game'. To me he's perfect but oh so very vain. I will never, ever over come this pain. I'm nothing but a punching bag, to quench his anger's thirst I grab my arm, and limp off to the nurse. She asks what's wrong I lie and say I fell. Why do I constantly go through with this hell? These tears are for him, and that I hope he knows. These emotions, this pain... why must it show? If I hide it away, I'd be lying to myself. He's abusive and cruel And my friends begin to worry They're afraid that he'll cause the death of me. It brings me to tears, because I know that they're right. They say "Step Up!" They tell me to fight! I tell them the truth ...

You ask me why, I don’t have the words to tell you. You ask me why, But I don’t know myself, You ask me why, I wish I had an answer, You ask me why, I dodge your ask with stealth. You want to know If when I cut, it’s painful, You want to know If pain makes me feel good, You want to know What made me think to try this, You want to know If I feel understood. I want to tell you That I feel quite lonely, I want to tell you No one understands, I want to tell you Nothing else can help me, I want to tell you How much I long to hold your hand But I am quiet Because I fear you’ll judge me, I am quiet, I feel unworthy of your care, I am quiet, Because my words now fail me, I am quiet, But grateful that you’re there.

The thing is That you ask me questions I’m too scared to ask myself. You make me revisit times That lay hidden, With good reason. You take the bits that hurt And you prod them, And poke them, Until the hurt makes me cry. And I find myself wondering Why? Why would I choose to be here? Why subject myself to this pain, This torture, When I know that if I hide I’ll feel okay. Hiding behind a pile of books And a to do list so long That it leaves no time To think, To remember, To feel. You say that it’s unsustainable. You say that it’s possible to feel differently You say that there’s a future Where I do not hate myself. I want to believe you, I really do. But I’m not sure I can; You have no magic wand Only words And ears, Listening whilst I try to speak of times I’d rather leave unspoken. Perhaps I deserve to stay broken.

Three words so often uttered, But very rarely meant: “How are you?” “How are you?” “How are you?” We ask But the answer Is breath miss-spent. Because nobody cares, Not really. Not unless the answer is “Fine.” Nobody wants to hear the words “I’m not okay, do you have some time?” We don’t have time, Not ever. Not even for those we love most. In response to the question: “How are you?” We do not expect the verbose. If the answer is somewhat surprising, Runs to more than a second or two, We stand there impatiently waiting For the respondee to hurry on through. When we ask after others we don’t mean it. We’re really just being polite. But if you don’t want to know, Please don’t ask me. Or I might tell you I’m not alright

To stop Or to go on? A question I often Ask. I Find myself At crossroads often. Standing, staring Into the road Beyond me Unsure.. It’s hard. What’s ahead Is uncertain Dark But What’s past Has streetlamps Sputtering, failing; Also dark. And cold. But dark, cold And known.. To stop? Or to go on? A Question I often Ask.

I’m cold in winter, And I’m cold in summer too. So cold that fingernails unpainted Are routinely tinged A ghostly blue. I sit and shuffle, Bones uncushioned, Causing pain. I drop my pen, Spill my black coffee, Once again. You think I’ve chosen, Want to be this way, With hair that falls in clumps And skin that’s cold and grey. But though it looks Like change is easy, Something I could do, I will not, cannot Though I’ll try for you.

The faster that you walk away, The faster I will chase, You ought to understand by now That just a change of pace Is not enough to shake me off, I’m living in your head, Chucking out your good emotions, Installing bad ones there instead. You think if you ignore me Then perhaps I’ll go away, But you’re simply saving problems To be fought another day. I’m an evil little ball of hate, And though you wish I would take flight, There’s no way you’ll get me out of here Unless you stand and fight.

The faster you run The faster I hide From the demon You you give rise to Clawing inside Of my guts Of my belly My mind And my head It’s monstrous Preposterous Why can’t you instead Just run slowly Less slyly Not cause me Such fright And so spare me the feelings In which You delight… I cower in corners You chase and you win Because hide though I might From your horrible grin I can see it With eyes closed And feel you nearby In the salt of my tears As I break down and cry.

Your cuddle soothes, And kiss caress My head; My head is such a mess. Your hand in mine, My heart with yours, Into your ear My trouble pours. You cannot help, But listen well The agony My stomach swells. The eating hurts I’m struck with pain, But cannot fast; Not that again. Because the worry In your eyes, As you feared That I might die Is not one That I want to see, No never, ever caused by me. And so I eat, And so you stay To help me On this painful way. I limp and cry, You hold my hand. I’m thankful That you understand.

 because you care, And yet you hurt me, Because you cannot love me As I am. You cannot ever know The way it pains me, Knowing I’m not good enough For you. I like the way I am Right now, my safety Comes from counting Calories and ribs. I know deep down You really love me, Which is why You need to see me change. But the thing is That I do not want to Can you not just hold me, Let me be?

Please know you’re always with me, Even when I’m far away, I think about you constantly You’re with me through the day. I carry little bits of you; The pockets of my mind Are almost full to bursting With the memories I find Returning to me often Bringing smiles to my face As the thought of my two darling girls Lights up the darkest place. So whilst my hand’s not in yours And I’ll not be home tonight, Please know you travel with me And in my dreams I hold you tight.

We take the love we think that we deserve. But why? They ask. Hushed tones behind closed doors. Why does she stay? Does she not have the nerve To leave? They ask, and condemnation pours. They judge, but never try to understand. Short observations tell them all they need To judge you, judge us. Scared, I take your hand. From this love, I don’t want to be freed. I never thought you perfect, but you’re mine. And I’m not scared that you will run away. You love me sometimes, and for me that’s fine. Despite the things that other people say. They’re blind with hate. The thing they cannot see, It is not you that they should hate, but me.

here was a time, when I had not yet met you. Life was punctuated with a desire to die. I’m not sure where my head was at. Never one thought, but 99. And not one good, back then. Life was full of people, But no one to tend To what was broken, to Take my hand and to say: It will be okay….a Sentiment for which my heart was ripe; Yet all I did was slowly age. Before you, life was not good. But then, a time of new beg-innings A fresh start, a Chance to try again at life, To do it well, And feel that I had lived. It almost felt too good, but Soon, ‘I’ became ‘we’ It turned out, you were all I’d ever wanted… No more thoughts of dying, each day I want another. With you, each day is a perfect day.

Why do you think I’ll understand? Why do you reach out and take my hand? Why are you looking for sympathy, When you’re the one in the wrong, Not he. Why do you tell me your story again And again, and again, are you wondering when, I will condone your actions, and open my heart, Well I just won’t condone it, I won’t play a part. Why do you wail, and shiver and cry? Why do you carry on questioning why, When this is your doing, Though I can’t work out why, You’d press ‘self-destruct’ For a temporary high. Why can’t you undo the harm that’s been done? Not long ago, you called him the one. Well now that I know him well, I love him too, And with what you’ve done I choose him And not you.

I was going to call you, But didn’t know how, I never know what I should say to you now. I know that we’re friends, And that nothing should change, But since I’ve been depressed I’ve been feeling so strange. I know it’s the same for you, You feel it too, With no sure idea What to say or to do. But, my friend, what would help me, More than you know, Is if we could let the ‘depressed’ label go And keep acting normally, Just like the past, And perhaps for a moment, I can be me at last. Can we give it a try? I can’t do it on my own, Reach out and talk to me Help me feel less alone.

I was going to call you, But didn’t know how, I never know what I should say to you now. I know that we’re friends, And that nothing should change, But since I’ve been depressed I’ve been feeling so strange. I know it’s the same for you, You feel it too, With no sure idea What to say or to do. But, my friend, what would help me, More than you know, Is if we could let the ‘depressed’ label go And keep acting normally, Just like the past, And perhaps for a moment, I can be me at last. Can we give it a try? I can’t do it on my own, Reach out and talk to me Help me feel less alone.

You look at me with ill-disguised despair, Ashamed of what you see before your eyes, Undressed by your emotion I am bare. Your body shakes, you’re choked with muffled cries. I hate that I have made you feel this way, But one day you should try my shoes for size. You think that if you hope and if you pray, You’ll see return the woman that you love, But I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way. I don’t believe that there’s a God above Nor demons, who know how to steal this pain That fits me like a much-loved, well-worn glove. I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you yet again, Each time I say I won’t but then I do, You must be tiring fast of this refrain. I wish that I was good enough for you.

Please will you listen to me And let me feel like I’ve been heard I’m feeling rather lonely My behaviours are absurd. I know that they won’t help me With my underlying pain But yet I turn back to these ways Again and again and again. Please tell me that you love me That you’ll stick with me although I cut and burn and hurt myself And leave those wounds on show. I don’t do it for attention I just need to know you care. And the time you see me more than most Is when those wounds are there. Please don’t judge or hate me Or talk to me like I’ve gone mad If you take the time to listen Then I’ll feel a lot less bad. I feel completely worthless, So please tell me that I’m not. I’m sorry that it’s hard for you  but you're all that i've got .

When I’m hurting, Hold me, And never let me go. The longer that you hold me, The more I come to know That it’s true, You really love me, And you care if I’m okay, There’s just one way To teach me that And holding me’s the way. Your words mean far less to me, Because anyone can say ‘I love you’ But to show it Is a harder game to play. So when I hurt, please hold me Nice and tightly to your chest. When I hurt, your cuddles Are the balm that works the best.

Words can be so powerful But we rarely stop to think About their repercussions As we take our turn to speak. We utter them unthinkingly, Thoughts tumble unabounded, A thoughtless word or two can mean A problem gets compounded. A paranoia grows in size, Fed by words mis-spoken. Self-esteem takes a nose dive In response to silence broken. We never know how others feel About the words we say, And often underestimate The leading role they play In feeding others’ misery And fuelling their hurt Because the listener hides it well, Those feelings stay covert. So we bound around quite merrily Launching painful word grenades, Oblivious to what we’ve done, The price that will be paid. By someone in a place that hurts Where words are not their friend. And if we get it really wrong, Our words mean friendship ends.

Sunshine on my pillow Tear stains on my sheet Another lonely night Another morning to greet. Get up ... Go to work ... Fight the bustling thong. Another day ... It's gone on far too long I'm breaking out! I'm breaking free! I'm gonna be whatever is me. I'm going to love to love And hate to hate And leave my destiny To a thing called fate. Watch the flowers grow. Watch the children touch. Feel my soul grow wider. And be so very much. I'm breaking out! I'm breaking free! I'll live my life gentle and easy. I'll live with style And sing my songs Loud and clear To those bustling thongs. And one of these days They'll break out, too And see the truth: To be you is true.

It wasn't the promises slung around my neck by your arms rigid with acceptance and an unfamiliar love. It wasn't the sticky skinned summer nights wrapped in our friends sheets stealing undeserved kisses. It wasn't backstage buried beneath piles of wood or sorted between hunks of metal next to the man I could never be. It wasn't a virgin spotlight or an applause that really wasn't meant for me  or even for us, but for them. It wasn't a song written by a boy who  never stood a chance standing in the shadow of  a blonde haired blue eyed somebody. It was finding solace in hearts and minds that like mine were not suited for the monochromatic day to day parking lot prison breakout  of the afternoon. Yours that were too distracted by the galaxies carved between our bones pressed so  tightly together and the symphonies inked between our teeth.

What nobody tells people who are beginners  — and I really wish someone had told this to me . . . is that all of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, and it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase. They quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know it’s normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work th...

There are two ways to look at a blank sheet of paper. It can be the most frightening thing in the world, because you have to make the first mark on it. Or it can be the greatest opportunity in the world, because you get to make the first mark — you can let your imagination fly in any direction, and create whole new worlds .. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all - in which case, you fail by default. It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in ...

So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more dangerous to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun...

 To tell someone not to be sentimental is to tell them to be dead.  I'd like to add to this  There's nothing to be embarrassed about being emotional or sentimental. Sometimes it is a gentle reminder that you can feel. No, you're not being dramatic. You're human. You're human because you can feel. To feel is a wonderful thing. Its a beautiful thing to feel very deeply about certain things in life. Feel it all freely.   I just found this somewhere and it has touched me deeply.  "You all have a little bit of 'I want to save the world' in you. That's why you're here, i. I want you to know that it is okay if you only save one person, and it is okay if that person is you "  As we grow up we realize that the one person who wasn't supposed to let us down, probably will. You'll have your heart broken and you'll break others' hearts. You'll fight with your best friend or maybe even fall in love with them, and you'll cry...

I n a rose garden, the most beautiful flowers get picked first, so don't worry if you go through a lot .Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could. I want you to remember who you are, despite the bad things that are happening to you. Because those bad things aren't you. They are just things that happen to you. You need to accept that who you are and the things that happen you, are not one and the same. Do not let the hero in your soul parish, in lonely frustration, for the life you des...

I wish I had lied When I said 'I love you' I keep finding you In all the old songs That I used to love When I met you . The sky burned And so did I I don't want a fairytale I just want you . I still look at you like you still put the stars into the sky .I kept a guard on my thoughts but you crept in anyway . We search for the feelings that will destroy us in the end . do not leave words unspoken . words are living creatures and they will decay , rot ,fester . They will become a weeping sore ,a gory wound . And they will never cease . To gnaw and poison the blood until they are set free . I was never sure you were a lighthouse or a storm . I was searching in your eyes something that was never there . so many people become songs and poetries but will never know ,our world is full of ghosts of unspoken words and memories. Of all the lies I have lived , My favorite was U and I ......

In the mirror My eyes met my own , but he Only smiled and sighed And whispered quietly : "It's already too late". I still have scars when Our eyes Met. Ends are often written before beginnings . In our lifetime ,we only truly live a few days. How can it be memories are more alive than I am ? Sometimes I speak of you As if u are still here . I never knew What loving you Would do to Me Our hearts are stories waiting to be told . Those eyes of yours could swallow Stars ,galaxies and universes. What hope did I Ever have ? Alas ! I smiled We were under same Sky At least

Where are you ? The sky seems Empty of stars Tonight. Maybe someday we will be two people meeting again for the first time let's get drunk on the night and say all the words we never dared whisper in the day light . There seemed to be two worlds ,the one before and after you .loving you was the most exquisite form of destruction I exist too much, I feel too much , Think too much Reality is crushing Life out of me ..... I have seen the world , but None of it Compared to you