catharsis
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We know virtue of travelling light, let's practice that in life too
Lesser the baggage we carry with us better is our journey
Oftentimes we get hurt badly by those we loved and cared for
I too,
have played the fool
just like the lyrics
of the popular
song...
Yes,
fool
also known as
trickster-
that common character
subject
of myth and legend
Through time
seeking,
ever learning
after all these years
I've finally found
it-
affirmation
"voice."
Spurred by,
guided by,
others
I now know
that this
Born of a minority race
Adorned of comments and nitpicking
You grow a thick skin when subjected to
Adolescent Bullying
Spitting image of an Abuser
Mother couldn’t take it
To Those Who Think They Know, Everybody has secrets,So does The GirlTo Those Who Think They Know, but really don’t,The Girl holds her secrets within the cage that is her chestThey don’t see themBecause they only skim its gilded surface, blind to t
Dear Swarth,
You hurt me
like a sharp, shining silver needle pricking my heart
because we all know
it hurts the most
when the pain is concentrated
all in one spot.
Dear Rye,
There are a lot of things swirling inside you
Emotions and memories and darkness that
You don’t know quite how to process
These words are a salvation
that flows from the need in my chest
through my arms
and out my flying fingertips
These words are a salvation
stemmed from the same feelings
and whirls of thought
I’ve spent countless hours of my life thinking and brooding,
Considering the complexities of my past relations.
And it is during these times, with my emotions moving,
Which cause more oft than not unsightly ruminations.
Purging concerns and shadowed secrets,
Spilling tears and spitting hate.
Catharsis is a spinning storm
Where you release the weight.
The storm comes back again,
As night claims the horizon,
You're the best thing that has ever happened to me
I would do anything for you
You treat me with respect
And you care about my feelings
You're the best thing to ever happen to me
And I couldn't be happier
cathartic renewal,i beg to seethe end of the personthat once was me.
i dream to query the Jefferson's, Einstein's, and Tesla'sof a hidden truth we had all once known.
i can't recall exactly when i had begun writing.
but it must've been in a time of distress or despair.
i figure this because those are the only times i see
writing as essential -- as catharsis or healing. so, i write
i inhale.
knots.
there are knots in my Chest.
tension runs through my veins,
snApping at each curve.
my bones,
oh, how They scream so loudly!
i will quiver.
seizing limbs,
Why do I write?
Why does it matter?
That the hands fly
to keep up with the mind that is faster?
It's a racing mind,
filled with stories and ryhmes
feeling like I'm running out of time,
I think it started
With a fleeting glance.
I had to capture, somehow,
This moment in time provoking
A fluttering of my heart.
Then it became
My mode of voice,
Of choice.
A tremor shakes the vessels in my head
tightening around my skull until the water
drops from my eyes
and a ghost takes host of me.
My brown skin turns to cream
my lips too tight,
Sometimes
without pencil and white space
I think
my mind would go dizzy
with thought, too much heart
all cluttered in space
ambiguity--
my mind would burst in the mix
nowhere to go
I am running,
Forever it seems,
From a past
I am running from memories
Memories that cause pain
Memories that I wish had never happened
