Completed
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1)
You mustn’t live your life
dominated solely
by the fragility of your heart;
for when fragile things
are left unattended by the psyche–
when they are not anchored
to a higher reason–
they are sure to break.
–1/2
2)
You musn’t be ruled
under the reign of
your psyche alone;
for without the tenderness
of your heart and
all of the benedictions that
it is capable of providing,
your mind will
surely become a war zone,
your sanity a victim
of carnage and
morbid delight.
–2/2
3)
Cure your heart
by means of the psyche
and your psyche
by means of the heart;
for this is the place where the
two shall unite.
This is the place
where you shall
finally be happy.
–“Cure the soul by means of the senses.” (Oscar Wilde)
4)
Reasons why we should not regret the heartache:
- This healing would not be possible without the breaking
- This Poetry would not exist without the breaking
5)
He used to be “my type,”
but I think I have finally gotten
to a point in my life where I can confidently
say that this is no longer true.
Because now,
I am “my type”.
–Self Love
6)
The scent of
lavender Epsom salts
and peppermint tea
emanates from her pores.
She smells like a warm bath,
the type you run at the end
of an incredibly long day,
the kind of day that leaves you
feeling broken and exhausted.
She smells like comfort–
like peace.
–Serenity Part One
7)
I know longer get up in the mornings
just so I can fall for you,
just so I can
plummet in the name
of the heartbreak
I had once known.
–The Vertigo has passed
8)
My pulse has fallen back
in to time
with my heart
and all the rest of me.
–Serenity Part Two
9)
To Me:
I love you to the moon and back
then twice around.
–Same words, different context
10)
To The Starry Eyed:
Perhaps it was never
a matter of your
light eventually dying;
perhaps it was simply a matter
of you failing to acknowledge
your light in the first place.
Perhaps the celestial
nature of your being
glowed so brightly that
you had no other choice than
to close your eyes.
You were conditioned
to believe that
there was darkness and
darkness only,
and for this,
you have been deceived.
But no longer;
for I give you permission
to open your eyes,
to recognize that which lies
beyond the shadows.
11)
Go out, I say.
Go out into the warm evening
to watch the lightning bugs and
how they dart about the trees
in whimsical harmony,
how they rise up towards the dark sky
in the hopes that, one day,
they too will become one with
the constellations that blink
so tantalizingly in the blackness.
You will be tempted to capture these
lightening bugs in a jar,
one you may place on your bedside table
as your own personal night light,
and night light whose glow
is sure to ward
away unwanted thoughts
and any manifestations of terror.
But, as lovely as this notion is,
you must not subject these creatures
to the cold glassiness of captivity.
Of course, it is not captivity
if they come to you out of their
own free will.
So, open your mouth wide and
offer them a home
that is free from
automobile windshields
and preying rabbits.
Let them warm the
inside of your being
so that you may become
a welcoming vessel,
one where dreams
and ideals
are sure to strive.
–Symbiosis
12)
Perhaps our stars had
crossed for a reason–
perhaps there is method
in the madness of heartbreak.
14)
I never needed you to catch me;
maybe I am my own safety net.
15)
And the heart mended the ribs,
remedied by the self-love
woven into its beating.
—Untameable
16)
“I’m sorry he broke your heart.”
“It needed to happen.”
17)
I used to write poetry
to pay homage to you,
but now,
looking back,
perhaps those poems were
nothing more than cautionary tales.
18)
Remove the splinters from
your heart and use them
to stoke the fireplace,
to kindle
the self-love you
have always had in you–
to spark that which
has been lying dormant
and passive within your soul
this entire time.
19)
And for the shards embedded
in your palms:
pull them out with
a tender caution,
careful not to leave
any shrapnel behind,
and then bandage the
wounds that remain
with the healing nature of Poetry.
20)
Perhaps it is better
to have loved and have
lost than to have never
have loved at all,
for in both the
loving and the losing
comes remarkable learning.
–Found
21)
You can try to protect her from
the heartbreak.
From him.
Even from herself.
You can try to protect her.
You can try to save her, too.
You can try.
But, at the end of the day,
this is something she must do
on her own.
–You are resilient, do not forget that
22)
Beams of pale light sift their way
down through the clouds.
They touch me,
and I begin to cry.
But I am not despaired;
I am alleviated.
My limbs,
rigid and pained,
begin to thaw.
My face, ashen and shadowed,
begins to warm.
–All because you are gone
23)
You will never be done with poetry,
you will just be done writing poetry
for him.
—He has never deserved your words, and he never will.
24)
BREAKING NEWS:
GIRL SURVIVES
25)
Won’t you surrender your
nightmares to the light
and dream with me?
26)
Perhaps happy endings
do not exist.
But maybe
happing beginnings do.
So, to whoever is reading this:
I give you permission
to find your beginning
–Out with the old, in with the new
27)
She was a tragedy turned fairytale.
28)
Perhaps it was never a matter of others
underestimating your capacity for darkness
but rather your own inability to recognize
your capacity for light.
29)
You do not have
to be sad to
satisfy the wild in you;
be the kind of girl
who lives life with
a happiness that cannot
be restrained.
30)
And that night, she looked the universe in the eye and said,
“Do your worst. I dare you.”
31)
“Teach me how to live.”
–Mentor Part Two
32)
Always remember that even warped records
are still capable of producing music.
–Broken does not equate uselessness
33)
Perhaps poetry cannot fix all of our problems,
but perhaps it is the first step to reclaiming what has been lost:
Voice.
Purpose.
And, the most important of all:
Happiness.
34)
I need you.
I want you.
I love you.
–Mantra Part Two
35)
I do believe in fairies
(and, now, myself).
36)
And just like all the great poets
that came before her,
she, too, decided to die.
But then she realized that
there were far too many
poems to write and
far too many things that
needed to be said.
—For Sylvia Plath, I choose to live
Source: https: //weheartit.com/entry/182199446