Poetry {162} ~ RAW

I know you know what it feels like to be in utter despair and pretend you’re in repair

Each passing day decimating by the millisecond, crushing the bones of every molecule in this physical bodily existence

Melancholia greys the lenses of perception

Each toke sinks me further into scattered fragments of the Self left around the world, trauma splattered across the continent

Still unresolved after attempt after attempt to heal

A baby pure soul tumbled into a mess

I crave and hunger for the days when there was a baseline normal

When I knew I was safe in my own temple

When I kept myself away from the other students of Spirit on this planet, away so no one could hurt me again; in that way that slowly breaks you piece by piece and you don’t really know what’s going on because you’re just a child, always sighted in seeing the pure in people which stung, stung to the depths of hell, when the trap door opens again to reveal another dimension of hell. The hell you created unknowingly, partially knowingly

When will things get better? They say it will, yet it doesn’t, not yet, there’s still something left that knows to live

Pretending or self-protectioning to act straight when you’re bending in ways you never knew existed, snapped into the ashes of cremation dust

Years of ideation to live another day

An endless sleep, sleep feels safer than reality sometimes, maybe we’re already asleep

Cannot take pharaceuticals drugs, yet they take the delight to a slight tendency to hook young ones for the health

“We’re here to help, remember,” comes a gasping response

Where’s the stealth?

Slice me open until there is nothing left I once said

Self-love whispering between the cracks in the psyche’s worn out shed

Swamped by the crowds, more lonely and cut open than ever

This world

Conscience flesh haunts my nightmares and daydreams

Or is it the menstrual hormone arrows floating in the hope streams

My breath slips away on crimson puddles that stain my thoughts

Numbness I used to fight with pain has morphed into a nauseating depth I want to fill with a soothing translucent blue to drown out the feeling

Into Greece’s crystal shimmering sunsets and love-state dreams

Where reality was play and lived all the same, unknowingly a child in God’s grand tapestry game

The way you suffer is completely felt to you, no one can ever hurt like you, weep like you, die like you. in it’s singularity

There is, at the very least, awe for its chameleon-like nature

If there is beauty and love and gentleness in a wound, it is that it is distinct somehow knowingly yet mentally a dual confliction, the pain feels real, is it real or is my ego convincing me yet again, hiding in plain sight is the blinding light

Haven’t we been here before?

Do you have moments where you can’t imagine a future?
You’re lying there staring at the
Same walls
Same ceilings
Same words
With nothing but the same feelings-
Empty and pale
Like there’s no reason to go on

The future is simultaneously unfolding in the moments
Paining the imagining of yourself in the framework
Where then you just want to stop
Everything
And just sit there for a while, maybe not forever, but something close to it
When you feel like there’s a rope around your neck

Is it just depression or is it the loneliness
when you don’t know but you know, you can’t continue to feel this way

There is a reason water is clear, and blood is crimson, for it would be far too painful to try and see the truth in your veins

Caged up wild delirious animal

Stagnant, though I’ve reflected all this progress

But the truth is lost
In 7.8 billion
Who have had enough
And you may know souls

I’ll never forget waking up from a coma, covered in my own soul mess, I hoped I would be going to my myself, eyes wide and glassy, only able to repeat “I want to live now” yet it wasn’t there.. “Love is the answer,” I raised and whispered slipping into hypnotic, to the astral planes

I felt the taste of death in my own mouth, at my own hand

And at that moment I understood that I was not going to live forever, some may not contemplate or realize that, but when you do, your whole life can or will change

Or at least some fractal of you that isn’t numb, believes and still believes

Always believe

Acredita.

~DiosRaw, 02/09/21

19 thoughts on “Poetry {162} ~ RAW”

  1. I feel your pain Amber, every sentence, a laceration on my bare skin drawing blood. Boxed into a corner, checkmated striped of all dignity; all one is left with is intangible, blind faith, and yet this is how it’s meant to be for those old souls who need madness and trauma to create the spark for intense growth I may not write as pretty as you★¥a@★№ but be assured that love in all situations is the correct response to fear and that all you have to do is let the light shine through the amazing person that you areb and all will be well my friend, all will be well ❤️🙏❤️

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Very different from your regular postings but in a way truly yours. The anguish is palpable though something we have all felt at times and with striving walk through. It took great courage to put this together because we have been taught too well to keep the pain at bay. Much love to you, my friend.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Dear Amber, you need to find peace with The God Who Is. The pain in your artwork suggests pain in your heart and soul. Jesus can heal this, but only as you allow Him to touch you where it hurts. Consider reading Lysa TerKeurst “Forgiving What You Can’t Forget.” Good food for the soul. c.a.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. to endure the despair
    nothing else
    my heavy burden
    do not impose on others

    the mountain of the higher self
    if you shouldn’t climb it, stay humble

    we have to endure what we cannot change

    the soul includes everything also a mess

    the curtain in the temple breaks
    when the child begins to grow up

    we are not the princes of hell
    not even the angels of heavenly paradise
    we are finite creatures
    in a drama
    into which we are placed without being asked
    trying for the better

    the advice, before the abyss that it gets better,
    does not help

    our ashes are the preliminary stage of new life

    sleep is the preliminary exercise in being able to die

    the doctor is in us
    ers tells us what to do

    we are there to become aware of ourselves

    death cancels our cries for help

    we dream day and night
    when we don’t want to understand our dreams
    then they will pursue us

    we hope where there is nothing to hope for

    we are not masters of our own house
    the reality of the soul
    we are at the mercy of the world in entanglement

    desire hits us all in the heart

    we play a secondary role in the drama of the soul

    we are nature in nature

    the depression is the call
    the soul to new insight

    in it the pain
    to end him in death

    the search for the truth is the attempt to overcome impotence

    the anatomy of the soul is the same for all of us

    death has been my companion since childhood

    life doesn’t change

    I do not believe
    i try to understand

    Liked by 1 person

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