Friday poetry post: peace

If you stop hating yourself
You can stop hating other people
Your pain will not be illuminating their imperfections all the time

There are enough people out there with a shield across their heart hoping nobody will notice they have one.

Choose the bloody option. The one that leaves you open. And rich with breath.

The truest things are the things people are sick of hearing. Advanced beyond. Have no time for.
That love is the fabric of life. But love is not only an idea, it is a wave that grows and consumes your fear. That kindness will heal your broken heart. That nothing cannot be mended, is too far gone, is not allowed back. That you must allow yourself to be kind first and strong second. That the children hold the secrets we have forgotten in the speed of things.

It's very strange that we want to be okay all the time. Be sane all the time. Be pleased, and jovial, all of the time. Take the deepening of Autumn as a reminder that your body is in fluctuation like the earth. The leaves are a sweetness that browns and bursts and drops and falls, and so are you. The clouds weep like you, before they are frightened by warmth. And sometimes there is a dull stillness about you that cannot be understood. It isn't illness, to desire to hole up from stress, or hide and hibernate. Because still all the time you are a living, gasping, hoping soul, daring to breathe.