Whichever way round I end up when I pass, it won’t last
Even in death I won’t find the right path
Mind pulling up and then channelling down
When I’m lost do I even make a sound?
Limbo is my forevermore, bleak is my host
Life or death, in people’s eyes, I’m just a ghost.
Yes I believe life is worth living. I believe we should focus on the positive and not the negative.
We should embrace life as the gift it is. A miracle it was to be chosen, to be given a chance to make an impression on others and leave a silent legacy through society.
Lucky to be alive through complicated circumstances which ended with your making of personality and awareness. I believe im lucky and I want to live that way.
It’s just some of us are born with a discrepancy of the mind. A shadow that sweeps over the light of life. Takes away joy and leaves ‘what if’.
It feels like living on egg shells. That any moment I could break and fall. At the end of each day I am thankful for surviving. It’s just how I’m built.
Yes I can be depressing but that’s because I’m sometimes depressed. Even though I feel like this I still want to help others in any way I can. This is what calms my doubts and fuels my soul.
I stand alone, only clouded by my own judgement,
As with the mind, when the fog lifts only beauty remains,
Stop asking the minds begs, when a person who doesn’t really care asks how you feel. The routine and rehearsed speech kicks in. Explaining that you’re fine and finishing off with a painted smile.
The person knows you speak false truth, and inside they breathe a sigh of relief that they don’t have to hear about your issues, or in their eyes, issues that don’t really exist.
This scene plays out a thousand times over a life time.
The magic happens when you find someone who genuinely cares and listens, and the switch in your mind decides to speak the truth.
Shoreline paraphrases; peace be with you
even in cold
it has a soul of its own
with therapeutic qualities
that seduces the willing
to open up to its innocence
as beauty unfolds,
of offering forgiveness
to the faces of rock
as their identity
is swallowed by the sea sweep
Pending tides high
as hard places collide
with grace and compassion,
No competition to the sky
rip, roaring, receding
loud, but with a never ending stillness
captured in time
compensating the storm,
Mysterious and magical streams
passing through the waves
with the freedom of expanse
to the sea
as the pebbles dance