Spirit,
I am, you have no tears but you have love and hope and care...I am for one that can tell.
Little bird, with confusion as a hobby...I just love this visual...doesn't it speak volumes.
We! Thank you for speaking with purpose, thank you for the shell and for casting a shadow, good or bad.
"When the others wish to speak,
I'm suspended in lost time,
I regret to say I'm whole
With each part that's trapped inside."
This speaks for so many of us and yet we do get released from this trap with much loving kindness.
To live an average day, just for today with all the senses, breathing in and out. Joy in this is enough...and we are the victors not the victims. I don't care much for the word survivor, it sounds like so much less than an average day.
Thank you for giving words to the inner and outer life. Thank you again, oh and again!
The tears well up in my eyes and you know just plunk right down on the cheeks and I have more than enough to spare for you, so you may wait for yours or just use mine till...well as long as you need.
Hunny,
Quote:
Originally Posted by fadedspirit
Candidly Me
I am the intellect,
The spirit inside.
I am the holder of knowledge
But far from perfect am I.
I am all that one can hate
Gifted with the strength of ten
No love of life shall be found here
For in me, each breathing life is sin.
I am the wanderer,
Where daydreams meet and build.
I never think of where I'll go,
For my wandering young feet
Will never be still.
I am the cares and hopes,
The holder of heart,
A female inside the male host,
I feed the spirit with love
And create the smiles that laugh.
I weep not tears for they are dried
The reason often I seek to hide,
For what is love and hope and care
Without the tears that need be cried?
I am the youngest, I must be
Cause the others like to boss me around
I'm scared to speak and usually freak
when others ask who are we.
I am the enigma.
I'm not seen or felt, but heard
I am the stirer of emotion
And sometimes I'm just a little bird.
Confusion is my hobby
And distrust is what I know.
I've seen too much
Of what the world can be
Therefore, inside here I grow.
Each group is what they are,
Some are single and some not.
For some it's undecided
How many's in each plot.
I speak a "we" with purpose
And I know my language well.
I sometimes speak in riddle
Because there's a fear to quell.
The others mostly hide
Within a shadow that I cast
And yet I really wonder
How long will it really last.
You see, I am a shell
What others call a host,
I react with the inners' feelings
To help them feel at home.
When the others wish to speak,
I'm suspended in lost time,
I regret to say I'm whole
With each part that's trapped inside.
Each part with me
Knows their shame
And each wish for tears to fall,
We bear the shame of barren curse
For upon the tears, we cannot call.
Together we form the human,
Imperfect in every way,
Striving to live a life so normal
Inside we hide, thus frayed,
Inside where we can bear our shame.
Fadedspirit 4/5/2010
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