Mental Health
The Art of Distance: Guarding Your Peace in a Noisy World
Many people live tiring lives, not because the road is too long, but because they reach out too far. The highest level of personal cultivation is hidden in just three words: Sense of Boundaries.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing2 months ago in Poets
The Ferryman
I am trying to get my feet underneath me Where I can tie them into a knot, Rubber ankles bending like Jell-o In between my fingers coated in sand. Sand from the beaches of lakes shouldn't Fall into the soup of my bones, should they? I think it's supposed to stay under the Cold, clear glacier waters where it can kill All but the stones and the shorebirds. . You could drown out in those waters. Ripped out past the sandbars into the purple Waves slamming against the side of some No-name, bad luck boat that has too many Holes in it to be considered anything but A near tragedy, an eager little disaster. Everyone I ever loved swayed on deck, Wondering with thought-bubble ideas If it was okay to just let me drown. . I wasn't sure what kind of answer I wanted To hear pour out of their mouth on the wind So I let waters, crisp and fresh and cool, Suck me to the depths of their stomachs, Let them gnaw on my candied cartilage. If there was more to me, I must've left it on the Glittering glass surface of the lakes as a token To the Ferryman and the hunting birds So that I can tuck into the sand and go to sleep.
By Silver Daux2 months ago in Poets
