Should I be so upright

To walk in the light of day

To climb to mountain heights

Foolishly vain gazing down

Upon the humble

The poor

Or should I rise with them

On filthy city streets

Swallowing honor in sips

Marking my steps

With what is deserved

So much to say

But the words are stuck

My brain knows how to formulat sentences but only my heart knows how to write down emotions

But it can't concentrate on artistic beating when anxiety is taking my breath away.

Stopped.

Can't function under these conditions.

Unwritten poems of mental break downs

Dripping into my stomach.

Bones heavy with weight of unspoken feelings

Guilt

Shame

Stupidity

Doubt

The list is drowning

Up to my ears

A pen waiting for response

Exhale

Maybe tomorrow.

I used to paint

Until you said my acrylics smelled

I used to dream

Until you said I should be happy

I used to write

And now I am again.

Say the words that would make my heart jump up and down: trampoline.

Say the words that would make my heart feel like it was on fire: a hot poker.

Say the words that would make my heart feel afraid:

man on a trampoline with a hot poker whispering be afraid, be very afraid.

We all have our

Own

Looking glass.

We wear a

Mask

To hide our

Souls.

We only see what

We

Want to.

We're

Oblivious

To everything else.

To reality.

You see,

We never know

Who's who,

What's what...

Unless,

They reveal the

Depths

Of their thoughts,

And we ourselves,

Remove our own

Looking glass.

i watched

flowers bloom and wilt.

i watched

empires rise and fall.

i watched

people make mistakes

and learn from them.

i sat there watching, observing and taking careful notes.

but i forgot to live my life.

i never smelled the flowers.

i never traveled to different empires.

i never built relationships with people.

i sat there,

eager to learn,

scared of making mistakes,

building different theories,

but time passed by

and i didn't experience anything.

i am sitting here

holding a book

and looking so dull,

but i am actually

in another realm

slaying dragons

and saving kingdoms.

The real reflection of you does not appear in your mirror

Do you find yourself crying when looking in the mirror?

Do you blame it on the size of your lips, the shape of your nose and the color of your hair?

Do you blame it on the bleached blonde hair that has become so thin that one can not see thee beyond the frail-ness of your personality for never accepting who you are

You became who you weren't suppose to be by destroying who you were by not listening to all that said you can not get any prettier then you already are

You chose not to believe and chose the new you that makes you cry every time you look in the mirror and see only lies

You find yourself thinking that maybe your tears are even lies so why do you cry to satisfy the remorse feeling that you feel deep inside

Some times there is no way of going back, but there is always a way to change your heart so others can see you as you really are

Your mirror image is not who you are it is just a reflection; it is not who is inside that mirror image, you are who you are, not how you pretend you are.