VALIDATE ME.
I am modern society. Validate me for I am not myself. I am a collection of likes and reposts. I am a internet board of what’s trending and current. My personality is not genuine, I embrace the parts with the most likes and delete the parts that don’t get enough validation. If you like it, I will be it. Give me validation or I won’t know which parts of myself to showcase and which to hide away. I will work to remove every flaw that keeps me from getting reposts. Success is only measured in my feedback. My sense of style is whatever gets me the most comments regardless of my personal opinion on it. My opinion doesn’t matter. Only yours. I can be comedic, I can be deep, but this is only decided by whichever will get me the most attention today. If you like something, I will embrace it. Likes are more than a number, they tell me what is expected of me. Whatever gets the most likes is who I am today. Validate me, for I have no idea who I even am anymore.
The Self-Conscious
In your
cinematographic
middle
new age
eye
do
you
witness
us
standing
by
and large
at the window
sill
where all emotion
comes spilling
in
reaching
far forward
with outstretched
fingerlings
to
draw
the curtains
back
and circumvent
a laugh or lash
that’s pausing
at the glass
just
at the edge
of our contacts
pan left then
right
to handle
the panorama
of our
ups
and downs
at
the turn
of the sentry...
where all these worldly
incarnations
of
Self
stand
#EmotionalReaction #challenge
Fight or Flight
Face to face,
face up,
staring at
the ceiling,
trying to
face down
my demons.
Fight off the
drowsiness
threatening
to drag me
into sleep.
Welcome in
insomnia
because it's
the only way
to keep out
the dreams.
Flightless
bird, run away,
but what to
do if you can't
fly?
Fly away from
the fight.
Far away from
the fight.
I just want
to run from
the pain.
But pain is
faster than
my footsteps.
Should I
fight the pain
or should I
run away?
It's a decision
I can't make.
Fight or flight?
The reflex
won't allow me
to survive the
choice.
Choices, choices.
Am I angry or
is it just fear?
The instant
decision, but
I can't make
it instantly
like I'm
supposed to.
I look into his
eyes, and see his
betrayal, but
should I run now
or should I fight?
Should I fight
to have this
relationship?
Or should I run
before the fire
eats me alive?
There's no good
answer, cause
if I leave, then
he leaves too.
If I stay, I die.
Which one is
the lesser of
two evils?
Half of Me is Missing (excerpt)
Jasmine was completely fearless, possessing many of the traits of a true psychopath. She became adept at allowing her feelings of power and omnipotence to rule her decisions. She couldn’t wait until she had more access to her patients when she completed medical school to become a neurosurgeon. She never felt that she was evil but realized that she didn’t care at all. Jasmine was unable to experience any type of deep emotion that would require insight and awareness. Contempt for others who handled situations differently was part of her being. The emotions that she felt were predatory, impulsive and narcissistic. She took control of her desire to rid the world of undesirables without a backward glance. Jasmine felt completely elated as she pursued her devious and destructive path.
Jasmine felt self-righteous as she considered the good she was doing as an ‘angel of death’ or ‘angel of mercy’ because she truly believed that the universe needed to be cleansed of those who were non-productive. It was soon obvious that she was a criminal transgressor of the worst kind. In fact, Jasmine was becoming a serial killer who enjoyed killing patients for whom she was responsible. She honestly felt a rush of power as she helped to end their lives. The unfortunate thing is that it was quite possible that her successes might lead her to consider ending the lives of the healthy and effortlessly treated persons. If this happened, it was quite possible that she would use her talents to rid her enemies in the world outside the hospital, but that would happen later.
Right now, she was just learning the ropes of being a medical provider with lives in her hands. Jasmine experienced a ruthless pleasure as she set out to complete her journey to become a neurosurgeon, at which time, her murderous plan would be put into motion. Smiling and smoothing her hair languidly, she realized that the world was not prepared for the evil that she would execute upon myriad hapless souls.
Black
Your favorite mug
Smashed on the ground
Blue and white ceramic
On the kitchen tiles
Floating in coffee
Black, the way you liked
And black, like the feeling inside
When you know
Your rock isn’t there anymore
Black, like the words you threw
And black, like the sky outside
When there’s no moon
To light the road as you drive
Black, like the car you hit
And black, like the uniforms
When the police arrives
To say you’re not coming back
Black, like the anger that caused this
And black, like my clothes
When I go
To your funeral.
No Shortcut!
Wheels in motion—
Where are the directions?
Don’t forget to breathe!!
Everyday, a different point to reach~
One and then a new path, leading to a new stretch.
Where it will end...I don’t know..
O, take on the mountain....step....by step.
Somedays full of sweet, lovin’ moments
Other times..a crazy, expanding ‘n’ brewing storm!
Key to have a place and time for less locomotion.
Calm, and recollecting.
Before the mountain climb needs to be continued, go and carry on.
It’ll all be worth it, in the end.
Keep on movin’!
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=aJ5IzGBnWAc
The Score:
‘Born For This.’
#NoShortcut!
You pass through my dreams (turning each to nightmares)
________
Whisper screams. My head hammered, throbbing harder with each breath of life I inhaled, my lungs flaring with the thought of you. Until it was all I could hear. Until it was all I could see. Until it was all I could smell, taste and feel. Your voice. Your hands. Your eyes. Your lips. Your tongue. It tipped me over the edge. My fingertips still shivering, trembling with ache. It was only a playful game, an accident. My shoulder bumped into yours. But then– our bare skin brushed. I felt your naked flesh. Soft and rough. Your tiny skin hairs tickled my collarbone. Your thick muscles crashed into me. And something dark woke in me. Heavy with desperate want. Hunger gnawed my insides. My heartbeat bellowed against my ribs.
Whisper screams. Hush thunder. The veins in my head drummed in a harsh rhythm. My ears buzzed. You were everywhere. In the air, in my mind. Dripping in the particles of my sweat that ran down my skin, glistening with silver. Sticky and wet. You left me breathless. Naked. Drained. But, then.
My world whitened as if lit by thousands of scorching suns. A hot wash of white flames burning everything. And in its wake, there were only grains of dust left. My heart crumbled to ashes under your foot. Overlooked, unseen, ignored.
And—
Silent. I drowned in your shadow.
Finding my Way
My child,
you have been chosen
as the special one to taste my fruit.
A kaleidoscope of color, intoxicating aromas
and the utmost delectable of nectars.
You, my child,
may have just one bite.
Why my God,
do you allow me to have just one bite?
To
teach you my child
that this fruit exists,
but you need to find your own way
to where the fruit grows.
On your journey
time will pass, and as will you,
the trees will grow, the blossoms will bloom, and the fruit will flourish.
You must strive to find the fruit trees my child.
Remember the taste;
The smell;
The beauty.
Cherish this memory
and you will taste again.
Death Where There is None (A.K.A Anxiety)
Burden.
I see it in their eyes as they gather around,
casting glances that only give their meaning to me.
This was their grand day, their party, their reputation.
And now I've gone and embarassed them in front of their friends.
The people who are important to them.
They know I can't help it.
But it doesn't matter.
They don't care.
I feel shame.
Panic.
Again, rising within my chest, the beast has returned.
I feel death begin to encircle my heart, closing its long cold fingers
around what's left of my being. My breathing picks up once again, scattered
and racing as the weight of their stares fold onto my shoulders. They know not
the pressure they impart on my soul.
I run from the room,
my knees buckling
as I go.
A friend.
After minutes that feel like hours, someone has come for me.
They stand in silence for a moment. I don't look at them, I just breathe.
They sit next to me, and slowly extend a hand. Not at me, but for me. For me
to reach and take hold of. I do. I feel at once grounded. Secure. Validated. They know
what it is to be irrationally afraid. To feel death
where there is none.
A tear of relief falls
onto our hands.