Sand & Glass

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It is not alright

that you are not okay

and when you cry you create oceans

that break against your face

The sound of the sea

surrounds your feet

and you worry about sinking

beneath all you can be

For you always saw

the glass in the sand

the potential to mould

and the will to bend

But it is not okay

that you bend for those

who threw you a stone

when you asked for a rose

Witness

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There is a bravery that comes from being able to look at yourself in the mirror and see what the world has done to you and you, in turn, to the world. Too often people spend time pretending they’re perfect. They lie to their mirrors and tell their eyes that they’re ok. Eyes are the biggest liars in the world. They see only what they think you want to see but they do not show you what must be witnessed.

Witness the homeless man on the street corner without drugs you presume he takes.

Witness the children, starving on television screens and don’t convince yourself they’re actors in some Oscar winning scene.

Witness the lie of those whose mouths curve upwards, when you make a joke at their expense.

Remember that pain is not often witnessed, by indicators you have grown up to believe.

 

 

Beauty & Starvation

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If you have nothing at all then you have nothing to lose.

This is the flawed philosophy I carry around like a tonne of bricks tied to my back. I don’t believe I willingly choose this state of thinking. Sometimes thoughts simply become you – a result of all your experiences.

Are we not the total sum of everything that made us? (or unmade us?)

I saw a picture last night of a young boy. His skin was practically touching bone and his eyes were deep black pools. It was as if no soul existed behind his face. Like it had been sucked away by circumstance.

We are all born into different circumstances.

I was born into a circumstance where food was given to me as comfort, and eyes were given to make me uncomfortable.

He was born into a circumstance where food was rarely given, and I’m sure that is more uncomfortable than the unhappiness I feel when I look into the mirror.

I think about food and what it’ll do to my hips.

For a long time I never truly considered the millions of souls dragging their hips along the dirt, gasping for breath.

I wonder about the tears they would shed if shown my local grocery store. I also wonder about the reflections I stop to stare at in every mirror of every store. How I examine every curve, every line, every fold.

And lastly, I think about how I never stop to consider, the beauty of a nourished soul.