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Guilty

Everybody knows that they’re guilty, resting on their conscious, eating them inside.

What currency of compensation could unlock the internal freedom of those?

Currencies that have sacrificed lives whilst flourishing others?

The currency of charity or acquittal?

Humanity retrogresses with bloodshed,

In what world does the guilt have no reason to exist.

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accepting the fact certain emotions are and will be a part of you show you’re on the right path to rid yourself of the negative connotations you have with such

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Cadence (Language of Us)

Through cadence, my heart danced at the thought of you.

And without relent, my senses jumped at your presence.

My voice attempted to master the dialect of your heart.

Its native tongue became manipulated over time.

The refinement feeling so out of reach to me,

To which no level of intellect or resolve could pace.

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Account of Solitude and Interaction

Solitude and I seemed to go hand in hand, however we had our disputes.

Where solitude made my chest feel heavy and I pined for a confidant,

The appearance of an understanding presence.

I’ve come to realise that this feeling is rather ever-present,

Maybe it wasn’t the solitude I had preferred, but the privacy.

Telling myself that I’m worth more than who I am when I’m with others,

Others don’t delineate me.

That would lift the unfading weight off of my chest temporarily,

But the tension was talented at reappearing.

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I muse on the term empathy-myopia,

How one can be unaware of the struggles within the lives of others,

And question if this uneasiness lies in others too.

Unknowingly, those of us could be together in our confounding solitudes.

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Account of Stoicism + Living≠Proceeding

Stoicism calls for me

Though I tussle and fight to find leeway

It encompasses me and my consciousness

My mind instructing me to hold on to it

My brain working in its course to protect me from danger; a shield

A shield within the war-ground of living

Innumerable feelings cowering behind it

Many have dropped their shields in the intra-centre of wars

Why must I maintain indifference in doing so?

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There will come a time where they’ll no longer be so present in your life. Nothing much could really pare down the hurt, except you try to advance comfortably around it

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Account of Realisation

Self sabotage can be my biggest enemy,

Even when inwardly, I was adamant that you’d try to understand me

There was doubt, however you held the silver lining.

But when it finally hit, it was satori

Like playing cards and being countered with a joker.

Our game had ended so abruptly,

It made me question if self sabotage was really the enemy I thought it out to be.

Was it leading me to the answers Id been unknowingly dying for?

All the wants I’d envision, when my reality was so near at hand.

In another world, would I have been able to stomach that this was our end?

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Poetry in its purest form

She’s like poetry in its purest form,

Untampered, original, heartfelt poetry,

Her writer ever so smitten and besotted.

Although I’d wish so,

My words could never overthrow that.

I don’t wish to write you, but further mould you through my words.

In such a way that if the devil were to ever read these words,

He would kiss your feet and repent.

In such a way that if the world were to ever read these words,

City lights in their entirety would beam in unison,

In such a way that, if your writer were to ever read these words,

The earth, designed by Her hands, would momentarily seize to spin on its axis.

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Improvement

I want to deconstruct -> invest into a version of myself that goes beyond a surface friendship level. Although little experiences can guide that aspect, I feel as though I’m neglecting that version of myself by the lack of effort I put in. Investing in myself with the same effort I use to invest into her, and we’d be equally as deserving