The inner fight.
For every virtue
there is a vice
for even the evil
at times are nice.
We all have the potential
to be full of "sin"
for without this battle
we can't truly win.
Go calm the storm
within your soul
integrate your shadow
to be fully whole.
When the battle is done
and the time is right
let your inner self
emanate its light.
Yeah, I fight with my soul... because she’s such a little bitch.
It's annoying, really.
Every time I wake up with my soul browsing on my computer without asking.
She never charges it when she's done either.
She just leaps back into me and goes to sleep while I have to go through the trouble of cleaning up all of her messes.
She gets Cheeto dust all over the keyboard even though she knows how much I hate that.
And don't even get me started on all the times she just leaves me.
Like, how am I supposed to function throughout the day with no soul?
This one time, my friend asked me a philosophy question:
"Let's say you have a button. If you push it, you'll gain a million dollars. However, that same amount of people will die. What do you do with the button?"
No biggie, right?
You just get rid of it and make sure it doesn't fall into the wrong hands.
Well, that's what I would've said if my soul was in me.
But nooo she was out at some séance trying to fuck with people.
So I ended up saying something stupid and concerning and sociopathic like:
"I'd push the button about ten times just to build my wealth. Then, I'd destroy the button so that nobody would be able to link the deaths to me."
Needless to say, we are no longer friends.
The argument that followed with me and my soul was not pretty, to say the least.
God, sometimes I wish I could just strangle her.
Obviously not because any injuries she gains reflect on her physical body, AKA me.
I'm stuck with her for the rest of my life.
Then she'll go crash in some other poor soul's body.
And it's not like I hate her or anything.
I mean, she's my soul.
It can be really exhausting, you know?
I just wish I could be normal like everyone else.
So did I
You fought, I know you did. But so did I.
When your commanders gave the order to fire across the desert, you burnt your hands firing those machine guns. But so did I.
I know you lost your country to come here and destroy mine, I know you felt ripped open when you couldn’t be by your own family’s side while they worried and died. But so did I.
When you held your countrymen in your arms as they bled out their last breaths, you called them your brothers and swore you’d rather die in their place. You buried them and turned to your God to ask why. So did I.
You swore you’d never kill a man unless necessary, you said you didn’t believe in war crimes. Then one time you remembered that the blood on your hands ran as thick as mud and you carried on with your day as if it were nothing. So did I.
When the war ended you swore your hatred towards the enemy and sat through your family’s celebrations, consumed with survivor’s guilt. Finding in your God’s sacred places no comfort so solace, you dreamed of the war and your brethren every night. So did I.
We’re not so different, though your orders were to conquer my country and mine were to defend it. Here we are, both living in the homes we started our lives in, you flinch at noises and I wince when anyone touches the scar on the back of my head. You curse the war. You say you wish it never was, because now you’re fighting a battle with your soul, and no one ever wins those.
So do I.
a single teardrop
you cause me
has more soul
Tug and pull
Emotions break over you in crashing waves
They demand and pull you under
Then suddenly you’re choking on saltwater and it’s bitter oh God you didn’t expect it to be so bitter it stings
You’re tumbling tumbling tumbling getting cut by tiny sea shells and getting sand in your hair that will take a lifetime to wash out
But oh what is better to feel the tug and pull of the ocean neck deep
Or sit on the sand watching as the waves pass you by without even sticking your toes in
I talk to myself in my head sometimes, when there is no one else around. One side vents my anger, the dangerous, toxic stuff that really is never seen outside of me. The other side vacumes it all up and tucks it away somewhere safe and unnoticeable.
Sometimes, I want to just scream. Explode. Ka BANG!
But I can't.
I must wear the likeable mask.
The always happy mask.
I just want to let it all out sometimes, but I can't. Sometimes, I let a bit of it seep to the surface, to make people think I'm not faking the happiness...
When I really am.
Let them see, a bit of the otherside.
Make them think they understand.
Even when they really don't.
Her love for me is bountiful…
but my fear and needs to run away from pains and sufferings of,
dense bodily reality is bottomless too..
I dreamed of a chair with a big hole in the center,
the whole world just spiraling downward...
Sadly watching me just letting go of,
the beacon of faith,
turning back against the very light of my soul,
pitching into some abysmal endless void of fearful unknown…
She took a vow many lives’ time before…
that she would follow me till the end of the world…
through lives’ multitudes of dimensions and reincarnation,
would be there for me and be with me,
would plunge through heaven and hell to comfort,
aid me, and always be by my side…
But the fear is like a chokehold, some dreadful spell of a non-reversible curse,
haunting me, through days and nights,
driven our life’s paths further and further away…
One day, while drifting through that in-between altered space,
that I visited so often in dreams,
a soft pleading voice ringing:
“Please waking up my dearest one,
Stop fighting over your own soul,
take a hold of that fear,
just lift up your head,
the key to unlock thy heart,
is right above.
Please look up,
heaven’s blessings are written both within and without,
all around your very existence,
in the blue sky, in the thin air through continuous flow,
of effortless breath...
You are the very definition of magic and beauty,
that are made with pure magnificent unconditional love…”
Honey bees diligently,
plucking and collecting—
fresh sparkles of early morning’s essence;
kicking and cracking open
some sweet rosy Nectar of—
weathered, thickened heart petals...
flower of life slowly blossoming, rippling, radiating,
iridescent sun gold…
She’s just patiently gathering and reminiscing over some good old days’ framed memories….
plunging into the vastness of a dreamy flowery garden in some wonderland,
where she and I,
could finally be like kids again,
exposed under the soft sunbeam,
with the utterly fragile, innocent and vulnerable authenticity...
Quietly, she sat down next to me on a bench,
patiently waiting for my soul,
to unwind stories of eons of life-time,
Yet, all that can we hear is the sign from a long haired willow tree,
wiping off the tears and weights from the silence that follows...
A sign that we both waited for millions of years through lives’ cycling and recycling...
As soft as cotton fiber,
She laid her wings upon my solid shoulder,
we finally fell into a sweet slumber,