His eyes narrate a hundred stories
Which go back in time
Further in ages and centuries
As they stare deep into mine.
His eyes narrate a hundred stories
Which go back in time
Further in ages and centuries
As they stare deep into mine.
I can feel myself going back to the depressed state of being that I am diagnosed with. I want to help myself, stop myself from doing so. Sometimes, I win. A few other times, I don’t know what can I do except watch it happen helplessly.
My father is happy when I suddenly show fear
Which makes him a person ineligible to stay near.
He festers shame and lets it grow;
Shows these sides to me which everyone doesn’t know.
I heal when I sing,
When I refuse to be involved
Actively in any unstable thing.
With healing, things are resolved.
Calm, safe and fierce as the night
I spread my energy like the bright light.
I protect, and when needed, joke around
To help a few in calming down.
You are there—somewhere beyond the blue sky.
I can feel that you exist; you are mine.
We need to do some worldly duties, move to dollars from dime
So that we can live carefree forever about this aspect in our lives.
It’s raining outside in this month of January.
I stepped out of my room to avoid the cold,
Made myself comfortable getting a little heat.
Thinking how things are currently off-beat.