The windows of the eyes shatter. Our view of the world becomes tainted by pain. All we see is sharp lines that separate.
The strike can be soft as water or sharp like fire - but it touches our very core and leaves us forever scarred.
When shattered hopes wash over everything we used to know, there's only one easy way to be: naked and open to the new dawn. It is the twisted grace of the soul bared and exposed, crying for relief and finding it in the very pain. It is the retched grace of falling like a shooting star. Falling face-first in the mud, falling through the very core of everything, only to break through on the other side of the storm and claim the new life that arose from the ashes of what used to be our paradise.
It's the first step of a foot that bared its sole and feels the ground with no urge to escape back into the forever lost what seems like a utopia of cozy and well-known.
Shattered. Burned. Wiped off the Earth's surface. Apocalypse has devoured all our carefully crafted dreams
and now we're forced to keep our eyes open. Let us let them water. We've got nothing to lose anymore.
Except for our sanity.
It's the dark night of the soul, when we enter the cave of our psyche where every hum sounds like a predator's growl. The sun is a dark spot on our back. We feed our brain distorted fantasies that the ground won't kill us if we dare to fall from the heights of fear, anger, denial that bloom all over our windows like fungus, thirsty for blood. The dark reality of our mind has little to do with the truth. It is cold and unfair - but things look scary in the moonlight...
Sleep doesn't promise a refuge either.
It's only in an intimate embrace of our naked selves that we can take a breath and feel no slimy tentacles of our monsters wrapped around our chest.
They're scary and we want to escape. We're stupid - we don't realize that the only way out of suffering is through. There's no around, for hungry tentacles are long and sticky.
But first, our weaknesses call to be mastered. By failing to prepare we are preparing to fail, inevitably, when inner meetings make up our battlefield.
Courage will carry us on. It is passion that conquers fear. It is one star that explodes and at once the whole galaxy becomes a blinding scream. Wild, potent, hot. Scary and unavoidable.
Just like the very thing that took everything away and left us bare, frozen in suffering. We've melted into it - we've melted it off.
We can breathe again, free from stifled sobs.
None of that rebirth can happen without accepting the pain of the process. The burn of flames that transform and refine.
Why are we so afraid to be naked? What do we so fear to see or feel?
Fire will take everything away. Only the strongest of bones will not break under its merciless scrutiny.
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Zainspirowany m.in. tym zdjęciem: shorturl.at/zFMU1. Nie jestem specjalnie usatysfakcjonowany, naprawdę, ale natęhnęło mnie i pomyślałem, czemu nie wrzucić.
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#23.01.2022
CZYTASZ
heart beats
Poetry~ poezje itp ~ w gruncie rzeczy, jesteśmy worami mięsa, kości, i flaków. ale w tym worze mieści się mózg, a mózg to wciąż niezbadana złożoność, która z prostego wora potrafi uczynić święty graal. the heart beats/heartbeats/heartbeat: serce bije, ser...
