Is there a way to find my inner peace,
without completely depleting my fire?
To calm the storm that brews inside me,
without burning out the melancholy that
keeps me writing?
I look into the mirror, and I see an extraterrestrial right now. I can finally admit that I know nothing about the world around me, and although I am frightened I am enlightened. Meditation suddenly makes sense, Yoga no longer seems boring, and the path to happiness is somewhat forming. I see it, in front of me.
I am stubborn while holding on to the unidentified anger that lingers inside of me. It is like an unhealthy co-dependent relationship, not so much like with a lover; more like an abusive parent that you love too much to let go of. Afraid that if they are gone, you will lose a part of your identity. If I am no longer angry, and the happiness never comes…then what happens to me?
Titles, they die.
In a bed of roses on
Top of its grave.
I’ll write this broken
Dream a letter,
Until the feeling of reminisce
Hoping that the
Thoughts, can maintain
Like saying goodbye
Being a weakness, instead of
Rest in peace,
To this love.
Never met someone so proud of their emotional burdens before,
Afraid to be alone
Yet, that she’s so determined for.
The one with the biggest wall up
Searching hard for stability.
Perhaps I should have known the moment you put on your shy routine,
You are a kid still learning, processing life’s intricacies.
I can’t be mad at you for that.
But I still can’t help but be bothered by the roller coaster,
I’ve offered you an out, so many time before.
And perhaps I’m reacting strongly, but people
Get tired of being weighed down by repeated occurrences,
I’ve asked you to ask me…whatever, how many times now
And I still have to decipher messages from your social feeds.
Loving me is not an accomplishment,
I am the ugliest form of life,
With shades of grey so dark that Black
Would be envious.
I can’t promise you that I won’t hurt you, or that my heart is pure.
What is mine.
No moment, nor human, is solely yours. Moments are to be shared with the universe, also, another person can never truly be yours wholly, as they hold an entire entity of power that isn’t attainable, but can too be shared if they so choose. This is a human characteristic that is crippling. You focus on controlling ownership of another, and you lose focus of yourself. This is a struggle I am now trying to get a hold of.
I know that I do not “own” you.
But, many times I find myself painting bright colors of my ideals onto your image in my mind, becoming an artist just so that I can sit back proudly at my creation, this sounds completely selfish and unrealistic, but my acceptance of this behavior is my way of fixing it; fixing me. You
ARE kind of perfect, because your unpredictability gives me a fire that I am sure wouldn’t exist if you were to follow my every command. Like a poem that I finish I may nod my head at the finish product but I would soon get bored with the finished product and look to re-create.
I’ll leave it to the universe to share with me the best and not so best moments, and I will hope for the continued opportunity to share in the world of your continued self-ownership.