Not to long ago I wrote a blog about being complacent. Well, I’ll be happy to write that I’m still complacent. Nothing has changed, but at the same time everything has. My mind has gone through a reset and it’s a fact that it’s ready to take on the world again.
Before I got stuck in this humbug I was just beginning to grow. Finally becoming happy after 21 years of disparities. Only to have it snatched away by my own greed and naivety’s. I forgive myself and I’ve learned some of life’s greatest lessons.
One being that no matter what you will experience both good and bad. I don’t care who you are. In fact there should be a law in life that says “In Good is Bad and In Bad is Good. To overcome one must live.” Don’t you see the more/longer you live the more you’ll experience good. If you trust I believe it can be long lasting.
Some days I still have depression. I’m not perfect by any means, but I’ve grown from self-harm. I’ve grown from just sitting and wallowing in my pity. The more life tries to drown me in it’s poisonous clutches the more I want to overcome.
Once a crow trapped in thorns and happy to bleed instead of face the demons passing by. Is now a crow scarred, and soaring above any nightmare I’ve ever encountered. To breathe again I am. To breathe again I will. I am capable.
I sometimes look back on my life and how things started. You see, I was born into poverty unloved with parents who didn’t even love each other. Such a thing could break people, but for me I was made.
Made to have power that flowed through me with hard times. Made with wisdom from learning the faults of those around me. Last but not least made with the humbleness that came from appreciating the little I had.
All 3 things would make any conqueror great. To wield them just and with dignity changes your status. To be rich with such things most humans will never have. All plentiful is the feeling of envy in the realm of misery.
I made myself. No one knows how, but I struggle with the truth everyday. The beginning’s of ruin are starting to show through me. I’m sinking into madness, but my power is holding strong. No lesser shall ever know that of The Peasant Queen.
The sun is on fire, burning in agony.
The ocean is drowning, gasping for air.
My body is growing, growing to die.
For every truth there is a lie.
For every lie I see some truth.
Hand in hand we go a truth and a lie.
Hope had ran its course
There was not a drop left
In fact I was hopeless
Never seeing the stars
Never seeing the sun
Never seeing the picture
Only seeing darkness
Wishing I had hope
To my star you were destined for so much more. Shining ever so brightly and bringing a light to my life. You would never understand how you guided me through the darkest of times. Showering me in your beauty, your strength, encasing me in your love. I wish I didn’t burn out so soon. Then maybe we could have danced amongst the others and painted the perfect sky. I’m not sad, only happy that you continue to be as you are. Nothing could ever be greater my star.
A toast is a good way to go into battle
Swords ready and archers aimed high
It’s given you bravery to become victorious
But it has also made you blind to strength
A toast is a good way to make a promise
Assuring those of what’s to come next,
Yet not having a single thing to back it up.
It’s always the thought of incentives to
Carry it through.
A toast is a good way to signify the end
You’ve won the battle and overthrown the
Kingdom. Victory is yours and it is ever
Bittersweet. Though I’m curious to know
Was it words of a snake or that of liquid courage?
Many of my scars have gone from my skin,
Taking away shame and embarrassment.
Even with no proof I still see and feel them
The pain of the burns,the ridges from cuts.
If only the scars in my mind would fade
Then maybe I to could be normal like you.
I would be able to talk and feel okay, but
I get it now I do the scars that fade never really go away
The fight is the hardest thing you’ll do.
Back and forth screaming in the mind.
A psychopath being created in you, taking
over and destroying you inside out.
The fight is the hardest thing you’ll do.
Wishing for peace and begging for sanity,
All the while knowing it’s what you made.
The fight is the hardest thing to do
But once you do you’ll know what’s true.
Tough luck to your empty heart
That void thing that’s yearned
For everything and more.
Tough luck to your shameless sorrows,
Knowing it was pride to do you in, if
Only it was easy.
Easy to realize tough luck is hard to