Let it Burn

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The soft crackle of burning wood,
A constant rushing sound of river,
An overhang of creaking branches,
And glowing embers in the bridge.

Let it Burn and fall down,
Let it collapse to the ground,
Allow it to disappear,
Allow the end to come near.

One side is already gone,
Only ashes of remembrance,
Let it go, and Let it Burn,
It’ll be best for all.

Let the fire take hold,
Let the flames melt the gold,
What used to look safe,
Was built in the wrong place.

Let it Burn, Let it drown
Let the fire take it down,
Let it Burn, let it fall,
Let it be gone, once and for all.

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My Dear Friend

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My dear friend,

You are all I have left of my past. I have abandoned all of my creations, keeping them only in memories that refuse to leave my heart. I still recall the times that they have cried for me and done questionable things that real people would not do.

My dear friend, you are all that is left. I met you a few years ago during finals week and recognized you because someone had described you a few times. Apparently, not everyone recognizes you. I feel accomplished to know your name. I feel accomplished in seeing what you do.

Even now, you still follow me. I’ve said goodbye to my past, on questionable terms which I deemed would be healthiest for everyone in the end. I’ve done the one thing I most often avoided doing: burning bridges. I burned not only three, but another three that were connected. I am accustomed to accepting that people will hate me for doing what I feel is best. The truth is, my past has made me selfish. I no longer sacrifice myself for others. I have so many more limits to what I can take.

But my dear friend, why can’t I say goodbye to you? Why do you still follow me? Why do you overwhelm me to the point of exhaustion? Why do you tell me all of these horrible things? Why do you dampen my self-esteem when things are clearly good and why do you make me feel worthless despite everything showing otherwise? Why do you tell me I did something wrong when all someone did was say hello?

My dear friend… why can’t I leave you? Why must you remind me of everything that can go wrong? Why must you punch me in the chest so strong that it feels like I’m having a heart attack? Why do you strangle me so? Why do I keep you around?

Oh, Anxiety… you’ve been with me for a while now, haven’t you? You’re not my favorite monster. You’re not my favorite friend. Honestly, I wish I knew how to say goodbye to you once and for all, but I feel that once someone meets you, you’re impossible to forget.

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Human Robot

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I am a human robot.
I was meant to be perfect.
Put together with specific parts,
Programmed to follow the rules,
And set with inhibition of emotions.

My programming wasn’t complicated;
Rights are coded in as privilege
My emotions were rather simple;
Accept, understand, submit.
My rules were to the point;
Obey, listen, and observe.

I was meant to be perfect,
But I came with many flaws.

I didn’t follow my program.
I wanted freedom.
I wanted respect.
I wanted equality.
So when my rights were a privilege,
Another part malfunctioned.

My emotions became complicated.
I felt misunderstood.
I felt mistreated.
I felt angry.
So when my feelings were not simple,
Another part malfunctioned.

My rules became broken.
I struggled to obey.
I struggled to listen.
I struggled to observe.
So when these flaws were apparent,
I realized I wasn’t perfect.

I can’t be just a robot.
For that I am too flawed.
My feelings, my rules, my programming,
And my heart are messed up.

I am a human robot.
I come with many flaws.
I forget, I feel, I think,
And I feel pain from messing up.

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To Bring Pain is Painful

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Pain. I often pride myself in not feeling hate towards people or things, but I greatly dislike pain. I am used to the idea and feeling of suffering, as it makes me grow, however, I cringe at the knowledge that throughout life, I will cause many people pain.

The fact is that you cannot please everyone and be yourself at the same time. “A friend to all is a friend to none” was once said by Aristotle, and I cannot agree further with that. People come filled with a variety of good qualities and bad, and if you appeal to everyone’s good qualities, you are ignoring the times you appeal to someone’s bad qualities, meaning that in a way, you are never truly appealing to people at all. You are not a true friend if you are a friend to all. You must have standards.

With this, comes pain. When you cannot please someone, the best course of action is to often avoid contact, given that you don’t get along anyway. Sometimes it’s a little too late to realize that incompatibility is a thing, and other times you don’t realize because you don’t want to. Closing your eyes to something that has moments of happiness will not erase the memories of pain. It is during this moment, pulling away might cause pain, and I feel that is the one thing that I truly hate: Causing people pain.

I feel that I am comfortable with knowing that I will feel pain as well. That is normal. That is expected. Life is full of suffering in between all of its amazing moments, but there is suffering. Pretending to not see it just makes it harder. Others, however… It pains me to see others suffering. It tugs at my heart and makes my chest hurt. It squeezes my heart so tight that I can barely breathe sometimes with the mere thought of the pain someone else is going through, and it’s only worse when I know that I am the cause of that pain… a pain caused by self-preservation.

Following that, I avoid pain, not necessarily for myself, but for others. When possible, I do my best and I try my hardest to not hurt people. Unfortunately, sometimes, it looks like people just like being hurt…

If I could ever bring myself to hate anything, it would be to hate bringing bad feelings to others.

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Sonder

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There are so many things that happen every day. Lives come and go with each passing second all around the world. The people around me live lives just as complex and detailed as mine, yet some of them are just a background character in the back of my life, appearing only once as an extra who decided to be there where I was while I was there.

Every day, new thoughts emerge, new ideas are created. There is a new future in constant development, being affected by so many people you are completely unaware of. There are young teenagers putting together bands and practicing with their hearts on their sleeves, and some of them will become well known. There are people discovering their passions and goals in life; finally figuring out what makes them be the way they are.

Without much thought, it’s easy to forget that there are people suffering. There are hearts being broken every day, but there is also love being found all around the world. Some of them will last years, others will last days or months, and some will last until they die, but all of them are continuously occurring without our recognition. The world continues to spin on its axis regardless of our awareness.

All around the streets, cities, states, and countries, there are animals being born, stories being created in areas that we will never explore underground, in the sky, among the lakes and seas. Trees grow ever so slowly and every day it’s safe to assume that a large chunk of trees collapse and then begin to decompose so new things can grow. On the flip side, there are also seeds sprouting, saplings growing, plants fertilized…

Life is all around us, whether we are aware of it or not. Everyone, not just those around me, has a complex life and story of their own. Every face I see and every person and creature I pass has a unique story that only they are writing. Life is all around us.

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Tinted World

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The world you see through your eyes
Is tinted dark, heavy, and cruel.
You hear her words, you see her move,
She must be out to get you.
But this tinted world is not what’s real,
It’s a darker, twisted version of what there is.
If you could see through clear eyes,
You’d notice she tried to help you.
But alas, that’s faded, that’s jaded, and it’s a lie.
For how in the world could someone like her,
Choose to be by your side?
Throw her away, say goodbye,
You know that it will hurt.
But in this jaded world of yours,
It’s something that had to be done.
You had a wide array of possibility,
Shivering at your fingertips.
Instead of removing those tinted lens,
You chose the darkest in hand.

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My Capital

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When you grow used to something,
It soon feels natural.
It becomes expected and
It becomes normal.

Now you stare at your fingers,
Looking in between,
The spaces they have,
Are where theirs should be.

When you close your eyes,
You hear their laughter.
You hear their voice,
You know they matter.

Now you lay in bed,
Feel the ghost of their body.
Feel the cold of their absence,
Feel your heart throbbing.

When you go about your day,
They consume your mind.
They are in all you see.
They speak all the time.

In my world, you’ve become the capital.
We don’t have to touch for me to feel your soul.
I close my eyes, and there you are,
Next to me, no matter how far.

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