“They think they know”

They dooo…
They think
they doooo…

You don’t listen
You compare.
You brush me off
Like you don’t care.
Clarify this shit…
As My diagnosis
rolls up off anothers
Tongues…

like
Water off a leaf
That’s weak…

Let me make it
Clear to those
Who won’t and
Don’t understand
That the issue
Can’t be compared
To you self
Diagnosis of me
Or yourself.

Boxed in a
A box in corner…
Small walls
I can’t peak over
Them.
With out…
I dare you to
speak… Making
Me more lonely…

“OH just do some breathing techniques and exercise. “

Ok that’s fine!
but It only
Last for a little
while!
You wonder why!
I Don’t smile!
I just
Need a stronger
Dose im on
Enough meds
To take a bull
Down!

Make me bitter
At all repetitive
remarks!

You!
Don’t!
Know!
Me!

Let me tell you
How it feels to
Be me!

Relationships/can’t
Going out in public/won’t
Being surrounded by
new people your
Friend knows/ I don’t think so…

I can socialize
to an extent.
If I say something
Out of order…..
To the huddle…
You may or may
Not hear me
keep apologizing……..

So my isolated
My inner and outer
Being…….

These issues with
in me.

Can only be exposed
If you know me….
Or sometimes not
I just feel…
Real tire…
So good night…

O ya…
I forgot…

Most times group
With a bunch of
Me’s and yous can…
Maybe even a hand
Full can understand me…

Only!

My mind
Is…

Mostly out of
Order………

I never asked for
A pity party ………

“Crimson Skins By Devika Mathur”

Crimson Skins

Ok…

There comes a time in every persons life.Where we all have to make wise decisions. One false decision can alter the course of your life. Sometimes for the worst!

Luckily…….

I made one great decision…..

A wonderful decision….

A wise decision….

I bought me a copy of

        “Crimson Skins Poetry & Prose!”

A book by the artist, writer and poet!

                “Devika Mathur”

@my.valiant.soul

https://myvaliantsoulsblog.wordpress.com/

     

When the book arrived. First I tore open the cardboard it was in. To my surprise! This book was so soft like her wordplay it felt like velvet. I couldn’t stop rubbing my hand and face up against the book cover. Like I was on some type of psychedelic trip. This book should have been called the Velvet skins.                    

Seriously though…

“If you don’t know her then you better get familiar….”

Her words are so humbling and soft. It’s almost like she’s whispering in your ear.

Her mind is intricately interesting, yet mysterious and challenging.. True art takes time to visualize the meaning. That’s why people stand in front of painting etc, at art Studios forever.

Now there are many talented artist on here. Me personally I have my top 5 poets. Not like the typical cliche poets. They know who they exactly who they are. Keep writing no matter what.

Look people….

Imma keep it all they way real….

We must support our artist!

We absolutely must!

Everyday, month and year.

You sit there and read..

Type your sincerest complements…

Interacting day to day…

With your favorite artist….

If you can do that. Mean every damn word you say. Even give your high praises. To your favorite true artist!

It shouldn’t be a problem for you purchasing there material.

Don’t build people up to let them down!

Make there hard work apart of your collection at home.
Give. Give your favorite artist hope! Give them a reason to know there appreciated. That’s love…..

Peace and blessings to all!

                       Thank you Devika!

For dropping diamonds and peace and blessings to all!

       

                     

The Tomb of A Absent Soul

Slowly falling down the well of deception. Know one can help me so I spiral out of control for control over myself. Get a grip and live! It’s so dark here. So why would I want to? There is nothing for me at the bottom of this well, but my extinction will open up the portal to a peaceful slumber for my souls salvation. You can’t save me so stop trying. Tidal waves rise high covering the sun drowning my dreams for a better life. My coffins interior design is karma. I cooked up too much pain stew and surved many out of plastic bowls. Now it’s my turn to suffer. The bottom of the well will be a tomb incasing my wretchedness forever. Don’t try to salvage what’s been tattooed on the middle page in the closed book of my life. Never to be opened and never acknowledged. A silent death will be my escape from the one true hell I’m familiar with. Don’t save me…

Come To Me

Scented candles burn while thirst for affection. The sun shines through my window on me while I’m pealing oranges. A white camellia blossoms showing me something divine. I wish cupid was a sharp shooter for my sake. Love to me is a precious rare gem found with in that your eyes can’t see. I just want something sweet in my life for once with out reaching into the highest tree.Heaven must be like this so I wrote you a love letter and placed it on your pillow.