“Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.” Oscar Wilde
Was it because I stood up to the man in the mirror,
I though it get better from there.
Was it because I stop listening to the voices,
it was unfriendly.
Was it because I started smiling,
sadness is a chore.
Tell me why, I deserve to know
or do you just miss sipping from the cup of broken me?
Why take it away?
Now Piper does of babel,
and you fucking ibis’s take note!
Feeling the joy leave,
and being unable to prevent it hurts deeply.
Can we chase the fire away?
I asked with so much hope in my voice.
I mean, I was asking the gods,
they should have an answer, right?
I guess we are on our own.
So, I will keep dancing with the flames
till my time comes.
Doing the right thing is a decision, which in many cases means you stand alone.
Ever went in so deep,
and fell so fast?
Then I took my leave,
I waited outside
now they all have questions in their gaze
I took it, and it was right!
The thrill of making a decision,
a decision they will never know about.
If I know one thing, is I cannot just be a peach.
Something gotta ease my mind.
I know my weakness but i have an armor now.
“I never liked the middle ground-the most boring place in the world.”
Louise Berliawsky Nevelson
I have fallen in love with the middle ground
my soul paid the price,
not by choice, I must say
the pressure of just being.
I reckon, I have heard someone say “the middle is the best.“
The safest, at-least
What a coward I have become,
twisting the definition of brave to liberate myself.
Hoping some positives comes from this chaos,
thank God for small miracles, and move on.
Some people have it worse, I hear
So, be thankful for the middle ground.
Ahh, damn it
damn it all to hell, am taking that step
Am holding a banner for me,
its upside down, but look past that
as i peacefully wait to be pulled swiftly,
right into the dissonance.
I know you found me
I know you love me
And as the seasons cultivates patients,
If you are not done working
am not done waiting
and while am waiting
am not waiting
As heaven lives in me
When men stop believing in God, it isn’t that they then believe in nothing: they believe in everything.
UMBERTO ECO, Foucault’s Pendulum
There is one and the other,
but the one is the other.
It is known that the one created
Hence, the other is part of the one.
Yet, there are tales of believes in the one
but not the other.
In fact, the believe in the one is stronger
than the believe in the other.
It is best to know that there is the other in everyone of us,
but the one keeps us from the other.
Knowing the one and the other, brings understanding to chaos.
You can’t see clearly if you don’t stop crying.
It’s 2:00am, and am still up,
happens most times, so am not surprised.
It getting more frequent, and am getting worried!
every time I close my eyes, I play the same scene
over and over.
The weird part of this mess,
It hasn’t happened yet.
I don’t know how to stop it, I don’t know this people.
Am I to blame for this disaster to come, I wonder.
Oxygen reminds me of what’s to come.
Woke up, took a shower.
Dressed up, pampered the object of attraction.
Today is the day, am going to do it!
Reflection in the mirror looks good, deceiving, but let’s ignore it.
Made breakfast, had breakfast.
alright, this is it. I am strong!
They are just words, nothing else to them.
Hands on knob, open door…..
Stand and stare for a while,
thinking…, how the mind works in magical ways.
My little piece of the “five sentence story” competition.
Don’t let me show happiness, the delusion never last.
Don’t let me show weakness, I might like the feel.
Don’t let me show evil, though, I know i can hate.
Lover, I am worried, am fading fast.
Could you love me more just a little, I hope I haven’t burdened you!
Come with me, hide with me, together we escape, pretend we’re somewhere else.
Temple One & katty Heath;
I built a mansion, just around the corner of my sanity.
Each brick, molded precisely to match every memory ever made.
No shadows, silhouettes, or presence permitted, I declared.
Then I heard it.
A soft knock on the door, prompting me to open the door, open my soul, my heart, but I can’t.
It going to spill out, all the memories, the pain, joy, hope, despair.
Especially hope, a terrible gift to loss;
Flood me like the wave of a wicked tide
“go away, private sanity” I say! no reply,
just a soft thump that create a rhyme in my heart.
Of fear? of peace? Still unknown.
A thump to remind me there is a world outside,
Av’ lived it. Hence, my mansion
The feeling between fear and love will never have a place in my mansion, I promise.
It still goes on.