Dream Life

  I lend everone my ear, But nobody my heart, And I sure would like to change that, But I don't know where to start, I smile more to myself, Than the world will ever see, Because the only time my smile is real, Is in my own company, People don't know how I feel, They never even ask, It seems that I have fooled them all, They can't see past my mask, If they were with me late at night, When the world was still asleep, Maybe then I'd let them sort, Through the secrets that I keep, But when I wake at 2am, Nobody is ever there, And I learnt that why I hide my heart, Is because no-one really cares.

                                                  Leave your worries by the shore line, And run your bare feet through the sand, Let the water be a soft bed, When you cannot bear to stand, Make friends with flying seagulls, And hold the sun up on your palm, Before you duck beneath the water, Where the world is mute and calm, Tell the fish all of your problems, As they all come swimming past, When your lungs are close to bursting, Swim above the waves and gasp, Let the water hold your sadness, And waste it right out to the sea, So like a message in bottle, All your worries are set free, And the sea might make you feel alone, But the world has troubles too, For how else do you suppose, That the ocean got so blue?

                                               Either peace or happiness, let it enfold you When I was a young girl I felt these things were dumb, unsophisticated. I had bad blood, a twisted mind, a precarious upbringing I was hard as granite, I  leered at the sun. I trusted no woman and especially no man. I was living a hell in amm rooms, I broke things, smashed things, walked through glass, cursed. I challenged evrything, was continually being evicted , jailed , in and  out of fights, in and out of my mind. men were something to screw and rail at , I had no female friends. I changed jobs and cities, I hated holidays, babies, history, newspapers, museums, grandmothers, marriage, movies, spiders, garbagemen, english accents, spain, france, italy, walnuts and the colos orange. algebra angred me, opera sickened me, charlie chaplin was a fake and flowers were for pansies. peace and happiness to me were signs of  inferiority, tenants of the weak and addled mind. but as I went on with my al

                                                        The pain will hold on gently As you move throughout your day You'll try to shake it softly But quickly learn it wants to stay It lingers in the corner  It follows you around Juts when you think you've lost it You learn no solace can be found So here's a trick, I've learned a few For me and pain, we're good old friends And pain's afraid of love, you see Because love, it always mends So openup your eyes a bit Inhale deep and strong Look for the twinkle of loves presence That surrounds you all day long It could be here, it could be there A thought, a mile, a gift Look for the love in every moment And your pain will start to shift Just start small, and whynot now Find something good to think of Pain will shy away, you'll see When what you focus on is love And bit by bit , you'll chip away At that old block you now call pain And when you're finished chipping You'll find that pain has a new name

                                                 I once heard someone say, If you don't change you do not grow, But I waved the thought away, For who were they to think they know, I'd always stayed the same, A heart that thrived within the cold, And I had no desire to change, At least that's what I had been told, But deep within my mind, A thought grew slowly, bit by bit, Until I felt trapped in my skin, For it no longer seemed to fit, There's a whole world sitting out there, Changing every single day, That proves it's nothing to be scared of, If you do it the right way, For a day afraid to turn to night, Will miss the silver moon, And a flower that refuses change, Will never get to bloom, I had thought I was a thorn bush, Only good for snagging clothes, But if you do not dare to change, You'll never find out you're a rose.

  If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream- and not make dreams your master; If you can think- and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and -toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn

                                                  you are going to miss a person who was an almost to you. And feel sad because there is no name for that feeling. You just feel it in a way that makes you tired to your very bones.

                                                    Our eyes made love to  each other long beforehand... you were something that felt so new yet so familiar to me, like a place I have never been but somehow never left. I think I have known you my whole life and loved you a while longer.

                                          Everything you see has its roots in the unseen world. The forms may change, yet the essence remains the same. Every wondrous sight will vanish, every sweet words will fade. But do not be disheartened, the source the come from is eternal-- growing, branching out, giving new life and new joy.

                                       When her mouth meets mine again , it's as if every last piece of  my armor disintegrates and every last piece of ice surrounding  the glacier that was my heart melts and evaporates. Whoever coined the phrase, I love you to death obviously never experienced the kind of love Taste and I share. If that were the case, the phrase would be I love you to life. Because that's exactly what love did. Loved back to life.

                                           When someone asks what i'm scared of I play i basic and say the dark. Sometimes I'll say heights, Needles or even sharks. Maybe I'll say spiders, Or flying above the ground. I'll say confined spaces, Or even pain and loud sounds. But I hide my real fears And put it on a far shelf, Cause my biggest fear is that you'll see me The way I see myself.

                                   The world is filed with people who, no matter what you do, will point blank not like you. But it is also filled with those who will love you fiercely. They are your people. You are not for everyone and that's ok. Talk to the people who can hear you. Don't waste your precious time and gifts trying to convince them of your value, they won't  ever want you're selling. Don't convince them to walk alongside you. You'll be wasting both  your time and theirs and will likely inflict unnecessary wounds, which will take precious time to heal. You are not for them and they are not for you; politely wave them on and continue  along your way. Sharing your path with someone is a sacred gift; don't cheapen this gift by  rolling yours in the wrong direction.

                             When I run after what I think I want My days are a furnace of distress and anxiety; If I sit in my own place of patience, What I need flows to me, And without any pain. From this I understand that What I want also wants me, Is looking for me And attracting me; When it cannot attract me Any more to go to it, It has to come to me. There is a great secret In this for anyone Who can grasp it.

                                                                                   I am slowly learning what it means to be human. I am slowly learning how to forgive the past. How to accept that sometimes beautiful things end, that sometimes the timing isn't right, that sometimes the messiness of life gets in the way, I am slowly learning that endings aren't something to be upset about, but rather, I am slowly learning how to appreciate how damn lucky I was to experience something real and hopeful and light in a world that sometimes fails to be soft. I am slowly learning how to be alone. I am slowly learning how to wake up in the middle of the bed. How to make just one cup of coffee in the mornings. How to hold my own heart, how to take up my own space. I am slowly learning how to stop filling voids with other human beings, and instead, I am slowly learning how to confront the void itself . How to heal it. I am slowly learning what it means to be human. What it means to make

                                      It's time to start putting yourself first and believing you deserve it. Isn't it exhausting to always calculate your actions based on other people's opinions of you? Isn't it exhausting to always put others first while you suffer, just to please them or to show them that you care? Doing what feels good to you doesn't mean you lack love for other surround you. It simply means you also love yourself just as much. learn how to invest in you and pursue all the things that make you happy and  fulfilled. Even if it's just taking yourself on a two -day trip or saying NO to going out with friends because you  prefer a quiet night at home or working less and taking some time off for you mental health. Remember that  you're just as important as those you love.

                                      i think you can tell a lot about a person by the way they talk about time. if time is something linear or cyclical. if they talk about their life as though it goes through seasons the way nature does or if it is something ever growing, always moving forward. if they talk about failure as though it is several steps back on their timeline or simply a change of course. if they describe the day according to the clock or to the sky. was it 5am or dawn? 8pm or twilight? i love to notice whether they speak as though the hours ahead are on opportunity or if they are an order. i love to wonder, is time something that carries them or something they are carrying? i don't really know what to do with this knowledge. i just like having it. i just like the thought that i can tell something other than the time.

                                                                                        i just wanna go back back before everything before all the problems back to that simple love yea i was naïve but i was happy just you and me all that i need i know now it couldn't have lasted long if only i knew then  what i know now i would have held you tighter  i want to find home in you again i want to find that simple love if only you would let me i would run into your arms and never look back

                                              Hey, I know we weren't meant to be together And between us, this might never work at all. But what love would it be if I wasn't still happy for you When you parted from me and between us built a wall. Hey, I know you don't feel the same way And you can never reciprocate this feeling And you should know I don't feel upset In fact, I'm on my way to healing. Hey, I always knew I might never get you And we might not have our desired end So I just look for opportunities to talk to you. Becauese I'm okay being just a friend. Hey, I might not be the one And there's someone else who'll meet you in a while Who has been born with the streak of luck And who deserves to see your smile. But hey, when you smile I smile too. This big, goofy grin on my face. And I'll always be waiting at home for you. If you ever decide to stop by, in case. Because, hey, you know, love doesn't always mean being together. I find solac

                                             Who told you that your shyness doesn't make you strong? Who told you that the way you are is limited and wrong? Inside you lies a silent strength that rests behind your eyes. It can notice people bluffing and can see between two lies. Your quiet is a shield with which you guard a loyal heart, and in a world full of false-heartedness the way you guard it is an art. Shyness doesn't mean that you don't live your life out loud; it means that you have strength and for that I hope you're proud.

                                                                          to my mind: we are at war, you and me, an everlasting exchange of indults and new wounds and apologies that always come just a little too late. by the time you say i'm sorry i have already absorbed the blow. a new battle scar has risen on my skin. my body cannot defend itself from you anymore. and i'm scared a truce will never come.

                                                        They thought she was delicate Like a pretty, little flower But she is so much more than that She holds extraordinary power They thought they could crush her Like a daisy in their hands Yet there is something about her That they do not understand she is wildflower The type you cannot tame The girl who brings the sun There is venom in her blood and danger in her eyes But she hides her power well You couldn't find it if you tried They did not believe in her Because they thought she was weak But she was not the flower  She was the snake underneath

                                           For my Person the world needs people like you. people who care, who allow vulnerability into their lives, who don't run at the first sign of complexity, who invest time and effort into what they want, who are tolerant and open-minded, welcoming and caring. people who are soft with a fierce heart. people who are not scared to hold their ground when faced with conflict and derision. we need you. we hope to be you. thank you for existing, for speaking up, for holding on, for being who you are.

                                                i looked over at you, wondering how i could begin to describe you. but my smile was so consuming that all i could see were the tops of my cheeks. and the fact that you could literally blind me with happiness was a perfect representation of the kind of effect you have on people.

                                          I like shiny things but I'd marry you with paper rings And I can't let you go, your hand print's on my soul But I stay, when It's hard or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes For you , I would fall from grace just to touch your face All these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret No more keepin' score now, I just keep you warm And at every table, I'll save you a seat I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm if your cascade ocean wave blues come You're my best friend I remember how we felt sitting by the water and every time I look at you, it's like the first time You can hear it in the silence. You can feel it one the way home. You can see it with the lights out And I know I make the same mistakes every time bridges burn, I never learn , at least I did one thing right I want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck, chain round my neck... not because he ow

                                             she had a library, you see, with many different stories to loan. but the ones you couldn't borrow were those that were her own. they sat there on the bookshelf, abandoned, collecting dust, for those she used to show them to had all broken her trust. there were some chapters that to them looked out of place, and even some words that they had tried to erase. there were some empty shelves because of all the stories they took and other shelves full of tales that had never been given a look. one day a boy came in and began to fill his cart with all the books she'd written from her heart. at first, she was terrified but he promised to stay and read every single one without stopping halfway. he brushed off the dust from the stories that were forgotten and worked through the pile until he finally reached the bottom. then through the stacks of books he began to try to weave- you can imagine her heartbreak when he got up to leave. but he grabb

                                           give me laugh lines and wrinkles i want proof of the jokes we shared engrave the lines into my face like the roots of a tree that grow deeper with each passing year i want sunspots as souvenirs for the beaches we laid on i want to look like i was  never afraid to let the world take me by the hand and show me what it's made of i want to leave this place knowing i did something with my body other than trying to make it look perfect

                                                 What if I read to you a story, Starting; " Once Upon A Time", And you realized that it was your life, Spelt out on every line, Would you hear my voice with wonder, As it brushed across each word, And pray my arms had strength to hold, The truth about your world, Would your view on life be different, And would it shock you most to find, That the things you thought defined you, Could be summed up in just two lines, And all the ones you took for granted, The ins and outs of every day, Play a bigger part in who you are, Than you'd ever dared to say, Would you wonder at the pages left, And all the places that they'll lead, Then vow to make each moment, One that you'd be proud to read, Because there is a story of your life, But it's you that holds the pen, And I hope you fill the pages right, Before you reach the end.

                                             I wish I wrote the way I thought; Obsessively, Incessantly, With maddening hunger. I'd write to the point of suffocation. I'd write myself into nervous breakdowns. Manuscripts spiraling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing. And I'd write about you a lot more than I should.

                                             You may not believe in magic, But don't you think it strange, The amount of matter in our universe, Has never slightly changed, That all which makes your body, Was once part of something more, And every breath you ever breathe, Has seen it all before, There are countless scores of beauty, In all the things that you despise, It could once have been a shooting star, That now makes up your thighs, And atoms of forgotten life, Who've long since ceased to roam, May now have the great honour, To call your crokked smile their home, You may not believe in magic, But I thought that you should know, The makings of your heart were born, Fourteen billion years ago, So next time you feel lonely, When this world makes you feel small, Just remember that it's part of you, And you're part of it all.

                                                 Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better To paint a picture or write a letter, Bake a cake or plant a seed, Ponder the difference between want and need? Dust if you must, but there's not much time, With rivers to swim and mountains to climb, Music to hear and books to read, Friends to cherish and life to lead. Dust if you must, but the world's out there, With the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair, A flutter of snow, a shower of rain. This day will not come around again. Dust if you must, but bear in mind, Old age will come and it's not kind. And when you go- and go you must - You, yourself, will make more dust.

                                                       From the moment you were born You were told what to do Be anything you want As long as you're never you They've paved your path And gave you rules Keep on walking straight Because dreaming is for fools You were told of a forbidden land Where dreams go to die They said never to go there You shouldn't even try But those who go there Have seen things far and wide Walked away from their chosen path And became their own guide And if you ever dare Give one of them your time They'll tell you about the dangers And the mountains you will climb But after all the dangers And the hardships are gone You'll find the truth about the path And find that everyone else is wrong There really only is  One path for you  No one else has the same path And you're the only one who can choose

                                    I've come to the conclusion That the whole world is an illusion. What is the deal? The script written in our minds, All the wonders you will find, Perhaps none of it's real. The ground, the sky, the entire world, It all seems like a massive swirl. The trees, the sun, rivers, and grass, The glimmering stream, It was only a dream, Even that bird who you just saw pass. The people, bustling about the streets, Only in your dreams do you truly meet. Who is this person that you call friend? They too , do not exist, It does seem odd to think like this. I wonder if the imagination has an end. In front of our eyes is the landscape, But only in our heads does it actually take shape. The mind is strange The world, just a figment of our imagination, Simply a neurological creation, But nothing will ever change An illusion, the world may be, But that does not mean you have to stop the discovery.

                                You try hard to catch your shadow but it moves much too fast. it jumps on the walls and ceilings, begging you to revisit your past. nostalgia is a powerful state and your memories give you fight. you remember the instruction--- " second star to the right..." here nothing is lost, you still have every single friend and on the morning horizon, you see your innocence suspend. but oh, remember now you have far different dreams and it's okay for life to not be the same because we're growing up, it seems. i hope your life is still an adventure--- one that's wild and grand. but i think it's time to live it here, i think it's time to leave neverland.

                                     they warn us to not make homes out of people. they say it will hurt too much while the're gone. but what are these beating hearts good for if not to be a place for others to belong? my heart is a home with many rooms with empty spaces for people to stay, and sometimes we are lucky and find ones who remain with us even when they are away. i'm forever making homes out of people, scattering bits of myself in the ones i trust. and yes, it's messy but trust me it's better than keeping them to myself collect dust. there are parts of others you need to take care of and parts of yourself you need to give, and while missing people is like being homesick, i think this is how we are meant to live. because we all have certain people that for some reason feel like the safety of home. it's true that withoutt them you might feel lonely but at least you are not doing life alone.

  Am i the one who is creating disturbance in my own life. Like see what my best friend ashi is struggling with , not having person who can match the vibe that she always wants in her life. But look at me i am the one who is running away from this.                                             Actually its not so.... I also want to go for party with my friends and family, even want to dance carefree and specially till next day or till my last breath . I would like to taste all dishes , like to dress everyday just like an model and a long drive with loud music where i can sing out loudly too. But everything with in zone of safe n controlled. I dont want myself to be kept in situation , where i have to face something odd and specially which against my will. Dont want to be part of crowd where any moment they can lose control and strat behaving inappropriately.  I dont want Weak Moments... i passed through this situation and let me tell you , this kind hangover is so tiring. You need to muc

                                 You can write for hours on hours, Of all the things that you wish you could be, But the truth of the matter is simple, People are not poetry, And I know that you wish you weren't awkward, That sweet words could roll right off your tongue, But your time here's too short just to worry, How each single sentence is strung, It's okay to be rough round the edges, To be bruised up and broken and scarred, But it's not okay to let people tell you, That it's a reason to change who you are, You hair doesn't always sit neatly, The way a poem sits so neatly in lines, And sometimes you might feel like a word, That nobody has learnt to define, You might not be a star that lights darkness, Or a bird that can teach us to soar, But it's okay, because you are too complex, To be crammed into one metaphor, It's okay not to know what you're doing, Since your feelings don't have to all rhyme Though a poem once complete is eternal, You h

                                                      If I have learned anything this year, it's that I won't ever be ready for what life throws at me. I  will never be adequately prepared. I won't have the right words when it counts for something. I won't know the right answer when fate itself is staring me down. I've learned I can go on waiting for something, sustained by hope and nothing more, or I can put it to one side and shrug my shoulders. Bravely accept the fact that I can't keep my heart safe any more than I can stop love from taking everything from me. I have learned to stop saying yes when I don't mean it---- to live as authentically as I know how. To allow the tips of my fingers to skirt the darkness, as long as I remember to keep my eyes fixed on the light. And as one door opens and another closes, I will move forward with the knowledge that unlike so many others, I have another year ahead of me--- another shot at making it all the way around t

                               I'm still a person. I have a soul. But people forget that Their words are cold. I block out their attacks. Everyday, I do. Sometimes I can avoid them. And I hope I can too. Other days, it's not enough. I just want to get rid of this pain. And it frightens me when I think a sharpen blade Is the way. It feels fuzzy, and nice While tears escape. It give me relief. And I go do it every day. I know I worry others. Or maybe just my parents. They want to help fix it all. But can i truly mend all this? I forgot how this happened, To tell you the truth. Whether I called bad on someone, Or somebody did an evil bloop. But of course, I can try and forgive them. I just want to know why. Why was was it me? Why all of the lies? All I can do now Is try not to give in. Even if I really want to. This is sink or swim. And if anyone is out there. Who knows I'm here. Please, get help. I didn't do anything! And I don't wanna die! I swear!