Au revoir, à mon coeur et à mon âme

Walking pathways of death as respectful as one is able,

You find an occasional numb in the midst of being overwhelmed or unknowing of what to do and how to feel.

Faces of those who might know the area as home are illumined and regarded,

Faces of those visiting are studied as well out of curiosity,

And then those who are seeking a new home in this unfamiliar land;

They are the ones who you do your best to assure they have been seen,

While the world may seemingly pass them by.

In a world on edge,

Below ground can be a place to find peace.

When walking caverns that have become hallowed halls of history,

A certain stillness is found even when actively observing your surroundings;

knowing you’ve temporarily escaped the chaos and noise of society above.

In refining one’s self, you find that you also lose pieces of your “self”;

It makes you wonder if it’ll all be worthwhile,

or if it will be just another phase or season.

Something meant for a scrapbook rather than a defining step forward as a human,

Compulsion rather than immersion.

My critical eyes have been poked many times over,

But I believe the time has come to gouge them out.

For I’d rather gain knowledge blindly and objectively,

then have the privilege of sight but also the handicap of unneeded critique.

With bones dislocated, emotions suppressed or dead, and a mind rather empty;

What good would I pose as just another spoon fed oaf?

As I prepare to leave,

I don’t have a final destination.

As the mirror reflects a face that is familiar,

I don’t immediately acknowledge it as my own.

Maybe a shadow of someone I knew,

Or someone I’d rather forget I met.

Just a sketch of someone or something,

From a place no longer existent.

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Grievances & Troubles

I’m angry that I may have to leave the place I occasionally hate,

Only to return to places I’ve tried to forget or at least have tried to not romanticize mentally;

It’s always easy to romanticize that which you once didn’t enjoy,

When something that once was a source of joy & sweetness turns bitter.

I don’t mind being a ghost,

I can even accept being forgotten occasionally;

But I don’t want to be haunted by my past,

And I’m sick of it accomplishing that by trying to convince me that my past will define my future.

I know it will have an effect, but it’s not set in stone.

The future is only a step away

while the past is more of a stones throw;

Like a shattering mirror,

Compared to an unlocked door

not yet to be opened.

Chest pains & dried blood.

Ink stains & torn pages.

While saying goodbye may be difficult,

Considering the bitterness a “hello” can contain;

Goodbye’s are like being asked to carry in groceries,

Rather than carrying a full chest freezer by yourself.

I’m not saying that being with people is bad,

But I’ll never say it’s always good.

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The Walking Sick

Screaming in the ear of a heavy sleeper,

Hoping to awaken their senses which seem to slumber much deeper.

Moved & confused,

Admitting a lack of understanding

and yet being offered nothing more but confidence in my lack.

How am I to learn, without a teacher?

Shaking as I wander the hall,

In a fog of blindness;

Or at least my vision was not that of reality.

Seeing fantastically horrific things,

Both remembered & imagined;

I wonder & question,

Just how I’ve arrived here and why it’s taken me this long to ask?

Should I, as I’ve done so often, just flee;

leaving everything in the dust behind me?

For this I feel is not the answer,

But there doesn’t seem to be any other solution offered in its place.

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Tonight’s Words

So much to not say,

The only conversations are with myself.

Remembering all I want to forget,

Muscle pain lingers like debt.

We often obsess about the meaning of things,

But we always view from the shadow of our own apocalypse;

Why are we so caught up with the end when we can’t handle what is right in front of us?

After you say “it can’t get any worse” yet again,

Don’t bother asking why you lie to yourself only when?

When will you do it again?

Don’t take this as a cry or pessimistic thesis,

I just don’t want you to get cut on the pieces;

Pieces of your broken illusions.

Don’t be afraid to dream or aspire,

But keep your feet on the ground.

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How and What.

How am I going to do….

What am I going to….

Where am I…….

Who am……..

When is……………………….

Y?

 

Muttering all these questions,

When we’re not even seeking the answers.

We just want to be heard,

Yet we sometimes forget we even want it.

It’s the sentence never finished,

Cut off by a chance remark or random thought;

That can change a moment of inclusion

to being remembered as nothing be a delusion.

 

But in the quiet place,

The still life moments;

My arms reach into your hearse,

Taking your life back.

You see being alone,

Isn’t to be despised.

Unnecessarily this seems to be thought or somewhat held belief,

That in our moments of self;

We are at our most disliked,

Ignored and or forgotten.

But it’s these needed moments in ones day and life,

That you’re able to strip away the junk that comes up when around others.

 

Community is a lovely and needed things for all beings to thrive,

But so is moments of stillness and self-care done in private.

I’m not saying it can always be private,

And it will hardly ever look perfect;

In this I’m unfortunately certain,

But must take active responsibility for our sustenance.

No,

I’m not saying we can in ourselves exclusively we will be sustained.

But we must in ourselves remember that we need to know we need others,

Before we respond to someone needing us effectively.

We will effectively support people while still broken,

About as effectively as a  neglected child will know how to love their parents.

 

We may be east of paradise,

But let’s not make hell out of the gift that is life.

 

The Facts

The fact is, life can be both as difficult or wonderful as we make it.

The fact is, illness slows you down but it doesn’t stop you.

The fact is, feeling sorry for yourself isn’t very beneficial.

The fact is, I don’t know all the facts and don’t have a desire to.

I could yell in anger, groan in pain and fear, smile in some supposed state of joy;

But what difference does it make if it’s fake?

Nothing but an illusion,

A mask of delusion.

War has been going on all the time as of late,

Between change and the enemy of stagnant self-hate.

A flurry of blame shifting,

Nothing is more sickening.

Responsibilities put aside temporarily,

Lies of failure infiltrate in.

Pestilential in nature,

But victory is a possibility.

It may be hard to see,

But I refuse to be my own worst enemy.

G-d, as always, I need your help but it seems to be in a different way than ever before.

And I’m sorry that the main reason it has felt like you haven’t been around,

Is because I wouldn’t let you in.

Or ran away scared,

Feeling unworthy.

The fact is, while you’ve always called me son

I’m just starting to learn what that means.

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“See how great a love the Father has bestowed on us, that we would be calledchildren of God; and such we are. For this reason the world does not know us, because it did not know Him. Beloved, now we are children of God, and it has not appeared as yet what we will be. We know that when He appears, we will be like Him, because we willsee Him just as He is. And everyone who has this hope fixed on Him purifies himself, just as He is pure.” 1 John 3:1-3 NASB

A Look in the Mirror

When I think of the places I’ve been,

People I’ve met,

And the things I’ve done;

Varying reactions occur, but one is certain.

If I could do it over again, I would.

Not even for the sake of perfectionism,

But just a desire to see things handled with more “professionalism”.

Or at least more experience,

It can be frightening to look back at the depths of our own ignorance.

Whether it’s someone you met and lost contact with,

Or a schooling experience you wish had been different;

Don’t let the memories be a device of torture for years to come,

But let them be lessons in learning how to not live in regret.

Recognize the value of making mistakes,

While still not committing them on purpose.

I know, or at least I’m coming to know.

As I look back and even come across things I “wish” had been handled better or had a different outcome,

I can honestly say I’m learning from these situations and times.

I’m not who I once was years ago,

In fact I hardly feel like I’m the same person I was yesterday.

So, don’t fear looking in the mirror.

But, also, don’t get lost in your reflection.

Recognize that which can’t be changed as well as where you’ve changed,

And commit to changing reasonably in the areas you can.

Remember, no matter any ones critique

that you’ve been purposely made Unique.