due to my clumsiness,

i fall in love,

and find hope in broken people

 

i am trying so hard to move on from the past,

but even in the most open space

i find sharp edges,

so every time a wound heals

it is torn open again

 

-g.c.

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places for negative thoughts to be harbored are etched into our minds,

space for the past and all its taunting mistakes to be held

and all our hopes for the future to be kept.

where uncertainty conquers all desire,

and where presence remains absent.

here,

sanity is lost.

when a moment comes that you are full and content,

see that there is no shelter or safety in this place.

though it may feel that way,

it is only the confinements manifested by negative thoughts.

it may feel as if it is where you’re meant to be,

where you may be drawn into your vices,

safe for excuses to be born.

it is not where you are meant to be.

you’ll remember,

once you leave this harbor tethering you to pity and self doubt,

venture out into open waters,

let yourself sink deep within the depths of your soul,

find a new home within the present,

carrying with you the lightness of an open heart and an open mind within a moment.

surrender: liberation – g.c.

my hands are like my mother’s,

the scent of dish soap lingering,

ungroomed nails,

rough broken skin,

working hands,

an unloved body,

possessing a wondering soul

 

my ambitions are like my mother’s,

too difficult for other’s to grasp

 

my past actions,

fill their heads with doubt and uncertainty

 

my love is like my mother’s,

searching for it in others,

who have nothing to give,

and I have nothing to give them,

empty worthless exchanges,

if we can’t find love within ourselves,

we can’t expect to give love

 

i only search for my mother and her love,

when they can’t be found,

when she is not around

 

i am my mother’s daughter- g.c.

 

 

the future

the essence of all my fears

not even the past can amount to the future

not even the countless tears in my tattered heart

i fear what the past will bring to the future

to dissolve the illusory

to make art

that can calm an old yet restless heart

but the difficulty sometimes

i fight in my mind 

 

the future

feels so real

feel it breathing on your achilles heel

weakness creeps

you feel it twisting in your stomach

no,

not butterflies

so heavy it makes the rest of you feel light

small

your mind reeks of it

 

the future doesn’t give you something to hold onto

refuses your desire for strength

whispers to you that you have reached your peak

now you are on your way down

 

the future

the hand that shoves you down the mountain of all your hopes and dreams

pushing you away from the present moment

away from progress 

won’t allow you time to work on yourself

too distressed

completely and ironically obsessed with the future

thinking of the possibility that those dreams are all that they seem

a simple silly dream

 

the future wears you down to the bone

steals you with its slumber

not allowing you to see that it is but a dream

those seemingly catastrophic possibilities only occur in your restless mind

 

your aspirations could be thriving and becoming in the present

but the future has a grip that seemingly won’t slip

but i grabbed onto it

fed it power

maybe it’d be easier

to ease its grip

if i stopped holding onto it

after all i reached for the future

held its hand

nurtured that demon

my demon

the nightmare that is the future

the darkness shading the light that is the present

 

so i guess instead

when the present gets too heated

i will find my comfort and shade under the presence of a tree

not in my mind

or by allowing a dark illusory future to block out the beautiful truth that is the present 

 

the future – g.c.

 

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