secret poets.

Today I am a little bit angry, a little bit unsettled. I am hungry, as usual, for worlds beyond my reach, and truths beyond my mind’s capacity. Today I chuckled at the thought of myself, how I always desire for the stars and galaxies when in truth, I really ought to learn to settle for what’s on solid ground first. It was this way when I was eleven, and it took me eight years to fulfill that. It took me four more years to fulfill a second one and tsk, what greedy beings we are; the moment I have it within my grasp, twinkling innocently, I’ve moved on to the next star, sky, universe- dream.

It is strange to look back at the past year; how it ticked by so slowly this same time last year. How I’d counted down to the day, thinking it would never come and that even if it did, how I’d convinced myself that I would no longer be in one piece.

It is strange to think back to this same time last year; my mind hurts. Hazy details, mental gaps. Defense mechanism; a deliberate move to block unpleasant happenstance. There were lots of tears and while there is nothing wrong with tears – there was so much of it. I lived the next nine months in a state of trance and it was only when I found myself sitting on an airport bench, thirty minutes to boarding, that I finally noticed it. It was only when I felt it slip past my shoulders, knocking the wind out of me as it did so, that at last I realized just how heavy it was, the weight I shouldered.

Sometimes I think our greatest inadequacy as human beings, is our reluctance to let go.

The irony isn’t that we hold on more strongly to painful memories; that’s human nature. Rather it is our refusal, convinced we are incapable to let go of the companions we make and the presence we felt in our trying times. Sometimes we make friends in the dark, and somewhere along the way, convinced ourselves they’re light from within.

Isn’t it funny? We think of time as a flowing river, yet so often we hold ourselves stagnant; a constant point in any river. Sometimes we hold so tightly we forget what’s it like to let go because after all, should we trust the devil we know nothing about or is it safer to keep to the one we’re familiar with, even if it hasn’t done us any good?

The friends I made in the dark, metaphorically and physically, were like the poetry that took me to deeper pits of emotions, ripping my heart open through written words and strong, colorful languages. They encapsulate everything so perfectly, down to minute details the taste of blood; the pungent smell of rotten flesh; the pain that led to that blue-black spot; and most of all, the silence that echoed in the recesses of the human heart. Their words are rich and affecting, claiming the truth and nothing but.

When you’re in the dark, the devil disguises itself as a friend.

Today I am a little bit angry, a little bit unsettled. Why do we let ourselves stay stagnant simply because the unknown is riddled with uncertainties? Since when has complacency become the one we settle for? Why is it that even though we know the exact spot where it hurts, we touch right there, again and again, just so that we can feel the steady rush of pulse? Why do we convince ourselves that this point in time is a destination and not a mere pit stop?

Today I am a little bit angry, a little bit unsettled. We can talk about sadness, but we are not incapable of growth. Just why do you let the devil win against you each time?

If the shoe no longer fits, get yourself a new pair. Is your greater fear the devil you don’t recognize or is it the one that stands so closely to you that you forget its true form? There are and will be numerous mental gaps in our minds, black holes in our hearts, and bruises on our skins. We can trace the scars from our past battles dozens, hundreds, and thousands of time if we want to. We can rewind the clock as many times as we wish, to relive any moment, rekindle any pain – to remember what they were like. We can talk about sadness- I can talk about sadness if that’s what you want,

but who said we have to live there? Who said we have to live there?

Today I am a little bit angry, a little bit unsettled. I want to change me.

“You have never been one they call weak.”


5 thoughts on “secret poets.

  1. It’s easy to talk about sadness while standing at the edge of a cliff, but it’s as easy to raise your head and stare at the open horizon ahead, just like the photo indicates. And tomorrow you will be a little less angry and a little bit more settled. And every tomorrow will lean more towards the open horizon, one step per tomorrow and the pace will fasten.

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