Highly Sensitive Person

For anyone who’s ever felt like they’re too much…

P.S. I love how she ends her poem

Of life she writes.

You ever meet someone who cries for everything?

Someone who has so much emotion and so many feelings that it becomes, sort of a little extra and abnormal?

Hello, I’m just a little extra and abnormal.

My whole life, I’ve been called a crybaby.

I’ve been told that my feelings are too much.

That I love too hard and that I feel too much.

That I’m just a little….. well, extra.

I’ve learned to live with that.

My brain just puts things together more than they should.

I guess my brain cells work much harder than normal.

Every relationship I’ve had was either hindered

or …you could say heightened by my extra-ness.

Depends on how you look at it.

I’m just a little too …. much.

A little extra.

A little abnormal.

But that’s just who I am.

If you can’t deal or you can’t accept it then…

That’s your…

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Remembering Dr. Martin Luther King Jr with Poetry

I was scrolling through Facebook this morning at MLK Day posts and I came across this poem from singer Chris Crocker. I loved it so much I just had to share it. Dr. King is such an inspiration and I think his words are as relevant today as they were when Dr. King was alive. Although he’s not physically with us anymore, Dr. King’s message and character will live on forever.

mlk-poem-chris-crocker

Source: facebook.com/ChrisCrockerOFFICIAL

“I Am Meth” Poem by Anonymous

I was watching a Buzzfeed video the other day about the stupid things people have done on meth, and the video featured lines of poetry about meth that caught my attention and made me want to read more. Fortunately in the comment section (never thought I would say that), someone posted the full poem. You may have read the poem before since it’s reportedly been around since 2005, but I figured I would share anyway because it’s that damn good. The poem is hauntingly beautiful and even though I’ve never tried or have thought of trying meth, the words struck me to my core.

I destroy homes, I tear families apart, take your children, and that’s just the start.

I’m more costly than diamonds, more precious than gold, The sorrow I bring is a sight to behold.

If you need me, remember I’m easily found, I live all around you – in schools and in town.

I live with the rich; I live with the poor, I live down the street, and maybe next door.

I’m made in a lab, but not like you think, I can be made under the kitchen sink. In your child’s closet, and even in the woods, If this scares you to death, well it certainly should.

I have many names, but there’s one you know best, I’m sure you’ve heard of me, my name is crystal meth.

My power is awesome; try me you’ll see, But if you do, you may never break free.

Just try me once and I might let you go, But try me twice, and I’ll own your soul.

When I possess you, you’ll steal and you’ll lie, You do what you have to — just to get high.

The crimes you’ll commit for my narcotic charms Will be worth the pleasure you’ll feel in your arms, your lungs your nose.

You’ll lie to your mother; you’ll steal from your dad, When you see their tears, you should feel sad.

But you’ll forget your morals and how you were raised, I’ll be your conscience, I’ll teach you my ways.

I take kids from parents, and parents from kids, I turn people from God, and separate friends.

I’ll take everything from you, your looks and your pride, I’ll be with you always — right by your side.

You’ll give up everything – your family, your home, Your friends, your money, then you’ll be alone.

I’ll take and take, till you have nothing more to give, When I’m finished with you, you’ll be lucky to live.

If you try me be warned – this is no game, If given the chance, I’ll drive you insane.

I’ll ravish your body, I’ll control your mind, I’ll own you completely, your soul will be mine.

The nightmares I’ll give you while lying in bed, The voices you’ll hear, from inside your head.

The sweats, the shakes, the visions you’ll see, I want you to know, these are all gifts from me.

But then it’s too late, and you’ll know in your heart, That you are mine, and we shall not part.

You’ll regret that you tried me, they always do, But you came to me, not I to you.

You knew this would happen, many times you were told, But you challenged my power, and chose to be bold.

You could have said no, and just walked away, If you could live that day over, now what would you say?

I’ll be your master, you will be my slave, I’ll even go with you, when you go to your grave.

Now that you have met me, what will you do? Will you try me or not? It’s all up to you.

I can bring you more misery than words can tell, Come take my hand, let me lead you to hell.

Of Crashing Waves & Granite Blood

Beautifully written piece. It really spoke to me because I’ve been going through a lot of changes this year, and like the author, I feel like these changes are unearthing the real me.

The Better Man Project ™

There’s constant shifting…

A fluidity to all of this. Ever changing. Ever morphing. The sand twists and turns as the waves crash upon it.

And here I sit, on my kitchen floor, looking at all that is going on right now with my eyes closed. I can see things that I never used to be able to see and feel things that would have eluded me only a year ago.

The man I am now is far from the man I once was. A year ago, I never knew such things really existed. I may have hinted at them throughout the years as a possibility but now there’s something far far different from that…

Certainty.

Certainty of watching the waves of energy move about and have their impact on the landscape. There are so many things underneath the surface that you cannot see if you don’t believe in them.

I…

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Ms. Over-Thinker (Poem)

It all came tumbling out

before I fully considered whether my words were true.

Now I’m left wondering if I’ve been misled by my own duality.

Two struggling forces of blind passion and overzealous rationality.

 

The moment hangs in the air like thick smoke clogging my lungs,

And that’s how I feel. Breathless, choking on my own anxiety.

 

Finally for what seems like an eternity, you take my hand

and give me a wink because you know what I really mean.

 

Or at least I think you do and my mind begins to race all over again.

But you read my face like a favorite book and pull me into your arms

before I walk away with an excuse and a hasty, “Wish I could stay.”

 

Slowly it happens while wrapped in the scent of your sweater.

I feel the transference of your warmth and I relax enough to breathe again.

My mind turns quiet and I let out a slow exhale because I realize it was all just in my head.

 

With You (Poem)

I’m a selfish being, that I know,

but with you I’m trying to be so much more.

Too many times I’ve prayed for change,

cried hard for the doubts to go away

and the anger to dissipate.

When I was desperate on those still restless nights, it was you

that made me discover the strength deep inside.

Alone, I’m smaller than an atom; a speck in the fabric of existence,

directionless and without a home.

With you, I’m a giant amongst men. Fiercer than a meteor shooting across the heavens,

powerful and majestic to all who gaze upon.

This soul now has peace

and gladly leaves the pursuit of perfection to your other creations.

Because I know despite my inequities,

my “too cool” mentality,

and my occasional lack of sensibility –

with you, I can be so much more.

At Night

Only at night as I stretch myself out on my narrow bed that I allow my mind to think the impossible.

With each toss and turn I imagine alternate realities where we’re not bound by time, space, and common sense. Only in the darkness of these four walls can I breathe easy and recall memories of honey sickles and canon balls of long ago summer days when the word ‘future’ only applied to adults.

Over time, my heart has been chipped and chiselled to the point of near dilapidation. To the point where it stands like some ruins of an ancient city that was once great. Only I can repair the damage that’s done.

My own do-it-yourself project, I quietly think to myself before turning again in this bed that isn’t mine. No man, drug, or friend’s well intentioned advice can help this time. Nervous and doubtful as I am, I grip harder onto the caulk in my hand and slowly go to work filling the spaces of my heart with my own love. A stronger substance than I could have ever imagined.