Falling Stars, Upon Shattered Eyes


Even if the heavens,
Where to replace all of the falling stars,
That have been left abandoned,
In these tear filled eyes…

It would never replace,
Nor even begin,
To fill in this void,
From all of the loneliness,
That has been left inside of me.

For every whispered wish,
That was left so despondent,
Upon silent, hushed ears,
Crushed the aspirations,
Of a “once upon a time”,
That was once a vibrant soul.

One of which,
That now so sorrowfully weeps,
Into a moonless sky,
Made out of hopeless dreams.

All that is left,
In the wake of this cosmic storm,
Are star shattered lenses of hope,
That have all but been left broken,
Upon this empty, darkened soul.


Food For Thought, For A Hungry Soul

How can I grow from a wounded past,
To better myself in this reality,
If I can’t even begin to move in the current state,
Of which this moment, right now, represents.

How is it possible to have a future,
When I can’t even begin to heal,
Nor live in the now,
From the disgrace of all my yesterdays.

With this conundrum in thought, I ponder…

Do I even exist?
And if so,
Where am I?
How do I even begin to live?
Am I living?

In order to die,
You must be born.
At least that is what I am told.

You can only BE,
If you allow the thought of your inner self,
To learn from every past mistake,
In which your mind created.

Because, your soul did not create this pain.

So I ask myself…
Are my thoughts my own?
What about the feelings, emotions and accumulated energy,
That is all but consumed within myself?

Or am I a part of a much bigger plan.
A plan in which I feel,
I am no longer in control of.
All for the simple purpose of love.
An example, if you will,
For future generations to live by,
In order for us to become whole and as one,
As we were, from the very beginning.

My hypothesis seems to be…
You were created, as a thought.
To coexistence in love.
Under the unfortunate circumstance,
Of a world that so horribly, turned into hate.

Life seems to be trying to teach us,
Right from the very beginning of our existences,
That living is such an easy thing to do.
If only we didn’t insist,
On making it so damn hard.

All seem to lose their way,
On this path that we call life.
Only you can decide on how and who you want to live it for.

It’s as simple as realizing that,
The compass has always been in your pocket,
This whole time.
Only you, yourself,
Were just to blind to see it there,
In the first place.

When you’re lost in those woods, it sometimes takes you a while to realize that you are lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you’ve just wandered off the path, that you’ll find your way back to the trailhead any moment now. Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are, and it’s time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don’t even know from which direction the sun rises anymore. -Elizabeth Gilbert

A Note to My Past Self (A Journey On Depersonalization)

Dear Me,
Please take into consideration,
Of all I’m about to say…
That the art of conquering the depression you are going through,
Will be to fully realize,
“That we are, what we believe.”
For with this, you must learn to understand.

You alone,
Are the creator of your own based fears,
In which you allowed to manifest into your life.
Do not let depression take control over you.
For once you do so,
You will only become its victim.

You must learn to live with your fears,
Then to take the steps necessary to conquer it.
You need to discover the very thought,
In which the thought was created in the first place,
In order to let that fear go.

Only then,
Will you truly learn to live.
Only then,
Will you be able to outgrow your own desperation,
That was self/man made.

Once that knowledge has come into fruition,
You will be the recipient of pure love.
And acceptance will become that much more easier,
For you to fully understand.

For if you do so,
This depression will no longer be in control.
Nor will it be allowed,
To dictate the way you live.

All that will be left instead,
Is an open space inside yourself,
With the allowance for only love to exist.
Leaving you with the simple knowledge of,
That the world was made for you.
And that you,
Were made for this world.

Only until then,
Will you be able to see the world through fresh new eyes.
And not through the eyes of fear and suffering.

For every bit of that,
Was what allowed your suicidal thoughts,
To be conceived in the first place.
Do not allow your sadness to be defined by it.
Because your depression, my dear,
Did not create you.
You, created it.

May this letter reach you in time…


(Dedicated to all of those who are suffering from severe major depression)