It's really quite sad. That look in your eyes. That tinge of madness when I'm not surprised. I know you well. Maybe you don't know me well enough. The lies you sell while acting tough. You're hurt. A howling animal in the night. What I've learned is you'd rather fly than fight. I wish there was nowhere for you to run. Nowhere for you to hide. Then we could talk till it's done, until our tears have dried. Then you'd see. We have healed each other. That I'm no enemy but a loving brother. It's really quite sad. That look in your eyes. How you've become mad and left me with no goodbyes.
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I Worry
I worry about myself. I worry about you. I worry about the world. I worry that I will never be enough. I worry that I will let you down. That I will let everyone down. These expectations that I feel that everyone has for me or that I think they have, weigh me down in unimaginable ways. I worry that if I get knocked down enough that the weight of my own failures will crush me. I worry everyday that I will never be someone that you can be proud of. I hunger to hear those words "I'm proud of you." so much so that even after they are said, I won't believe them. I will continue to work, until I hear you say it again and again. I worry it will never be enough. All the good I do. All the good I try to do. It feels as though it will never outweigh my failures. Each misspoken word, action, or inaction is another chain I tie around myself. Binding my insecurities to my heart and continuing the vicious cycle that I will never be good enough. I worry that I am selfish. That I never give enough. That I can always give or do more. I worry that when people look into my eyes that they don't see the same smiling happy social butterfly they once knew, but a more reclusive creature that is too scared to trust, too scared to let their guard down, and invite you into their lives. Even now while you're reading this I worry that I have wasted your time. That I have said nothing thought provoking. That I have not made any sort of impression on you. It is this constant worrying that drives my thoughts. It's what causes my hesitation to do or say things. It wears me down like a river against sandstone. It is this worrying that has turned me into the exact thing I never wanted to be. Someone who is not myself.
By Christopher Foster4 years ago in Poets
Affection and Healing for Yourself
During the night of the last quarter moon, I gathered my ritual supplies. I carefully handled the chunk of black tourmaline that would protect me from your overall negative and narcissistic energy. I carefully walked the house with my stick of selenite in hand, asking the universe to cleanse our working space.
By Alisha Wilkins ✒️🦋🖋️2 days ago in Fiction
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