The Present is the Past III

Your past is the present
that you present to your self often;
choose and wrap carefully.

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Kintusgi

Kintsugi-Bowl

In Japan, ceramics are not thrown away when they are broken/shattered. Instead, they are repaired through an ancient practice called kintsugi (金継ぎ), or kintsukuroi (金繕い), and it literally means golden (“kin”) repair (“tsugi”). The broken pieces are attached together with precious metal– liquid gold, liquid silver or lacquer dusted with powdered gold, and the bowl, cup or whatever the ceramic is, is beautifully enhanced after the process.

The Japanese art of kintsugi teaches that broken objects are not to be hidden. Instead, they are to be displayed with pride.

What we can all learn from this is that we can heal beautifully if we allow ourselves to go through the process. It’s up to us to decide whether we want to dispose ourselves- our desires for love, happiness, success and good change- or choose to heal our wounds with liquid gold, irrespective of how much it hurts.

Scars from our healing are not to be hidden. The saying “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” definitely applies here.

The Present is the Past II

We let the past go
but it flaps its wings
and perches on us.
We leave the past behind
but it’s a fast runner;
it catches up with us.
So we kill the past,
but it never just lies there.
It almost never stays dead;
it crawls right back into bed,
bloody.

It’s not easy to let the past go. 
When you begin to date the Present and you bring it home, the Past might leave on its own accord, but it might break a few things in your heart first.

Be conscious of the decisions you make and the things you do in the present.

Regrets

When life serves me a plate
or two of happiness,
the me that was, yesterday,
the me that made all those mistakes,
possesses this new me and spits on my plate,
rendering it untouchable and useless.

How do I kill myself without dying?
How do I shoot a part of myself
without getting hurt,
without being in even more pain
than my past causes me every bloody time,
every single time I try to breathe?

How do I kill the me that
made all those mistakes,
the me that drags me into a pool of her
own blood each time she stabs herself?
How do I kill all these bad memories?

If I could kill that me,
I would.
I would blow her heart the fuck out
and keep her brain,
her brains,
all of the extra ones she got
by the time it got too late.
I would shoot her again and again
till my wrists ached,
till everything ached,
till everything healed
and I found relief and peace again,
but I can’t.

I hate them I’m already resting, but in imperfect peace.

I hate that I am resting in pieces.


FIND PEACE & HEALING:

Life will break and kill you
without taking your life;
so, rest in pieces,
but find that important piece of yourself again,
even when it’s hard to put yourself together.
Find peace when all is said and done;
life is full of chances,
seek another.

We die everyday to live.

Discharged and Unrequited

You let me listen to your heartbeat,
but I didn’t hear my name.
You don’t like to listen to mine
because you know it’s not the same.
I have fallen for you,
but how can you rescue me

if you keep pretending I’m not here?
I daydream about us two, 
but how can these things come
to pass if you don’t draw me near?

Why do you call me ” my dear”?
Why do you even dare?
You make me believe our destination is near,
on this smooth path that leads nowhere.
Why do you look into my eyes?
And ask for more of my rice?
Why do you bend the knee if you
have no desire to make me your queen?

Why do you make me come
if you don’t want me to stay?
Why did you build me this home
in order to send me away?
My nipples get hard when I think of you;
you should have left me dead
if I’m not the one you want to wed.
I don’t know what to do;
how do I just let you go
if “us” grew long ago?

Why do you make me come
if you don’t want me to stay?
Why did you build me this home
in order to send me away?
I daydreamed a lot about us two;
you should have left me dead
if I’m not the one you want to wed.
I don’t know what to do;
how do I just let you go
if “us” grew long ago?

The Present is the Past

“The present will not last,”
but what about the past?
The past never disappears at all,
let alone, really fast.
The present will last for a second;
but choose it wisely if you can-
what you do and where you stand,
the boats you leg with your hand.
Be mindful of the things you plan;
“the past” is what you began.
The present will end and last forever,
as soon as it becomes your past.

The Hands, the Vase and the Flower

If you ever think you were wrong,
you’re right.
If you ever think you did bad,
you’re doing good.
When you broke the flower vase,
you had to take care of your cuts,
but you have quickly forgotten
that my home was shattered too.

A dead flower needed her vase.
A dead flower would begin to decay soon.
A red flower died because of you.
A red flower died because she loved you.

 


You let someone hold you, and because of their carelessness, or because they’re just tired of how heavy you can be sometimes, or for “no” reason, they drop you. Your heart’s broken. Your vase is destroyed, shattered into many pieces that you can’t possibly put back together on your own.
They say “oh! I was cut! She’s in the wrong and I’m innocent.”
Well, what about the poor flower? What about this poor flower? You got cut. Yes. You got cut but I died. Sorry to you but adieu to me. I don’t bleed, I’m a flower, but I can get very badly hurt too.
Also, I’ve not been resting in perfect peace; I’ve not even been resting in one piece.

How Do You Feel?

How do you feel when you look at the
body that should have been your lover?
Does it make you sad that your lover is dead,
or are you grateful that the body is
alive for you to see at least?