Killed

Feeling full, impatient
Reasons unknown, concealed
Regrets, flashbacks
PTSD!
Sometimes a flood,
Others just a dull ache
In clutches, claws unknown
Surrendered, lost
All ambers turned to soot
We killed ourselves inside!
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By Bob Marley

Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you.

When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful.

There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are.

The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again. Colors seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all.

A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you.

You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon.

You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you.

Heart

Heart… A mere cluster of muscles pumping blood through your body, responsible for your survival. And yet it is this muscular mass that is most important in how to decide to live your life, in choosing your way forward..

Being a pure heart is one of the choicest blessings that can be bestowed upon a person. Being able to see everything in its purity and being able to work forward with a good heart is rare, and a blessing.

But then a pure, honest heart makes you vulnerable. In a world filled of crooks, the straight trees are first to be cut down. And honest, pure heart the first to be cheated and bruised. In the purity of one’s own heart, we tend to forget about the deceptiveness of the world. Of how your emotions don’t mean a thing to anyone else. And how they can be friends one moment and foes in another just to get their motives accomplished.

It is difficult to decide whether a pure heart is a blessing or a curse when the same thing can be your strength as well as your greatest weakness. When you lend your hand to someone to help them out, you never know whether they actually want to be saved or are pretending the situation just to throw you down the pits.

And one’s sanctity makes it look like everyone is a friend, a fellow human with the same needs. But does greed not overpower so many souls? Is every other person you see not corrupt? Have they not sold their conscience for some mere notes they call money?

Has the world, in its chase for fame and fortune, not sold itself?

Colours

They adored, spoke highly
The art, so captivating
It seemed to express all in mind
Yet, so incomprehensible
They lacked words, expressions
Language-insatiable.
The colours, patterns had another language
As if a soul peeking another
And yet, not an eye realized
The canvas had not colours painted
It was blood; pain and tears
People rejoiced-enjoyed;
the suffering of another soul.