written (or to write)

We stand on the burial ground of all our dead ideas.
Those feelings discarded by bit and bleeding tongues.
The things we've always wanted for ourselves, but said no.
Everything fallen.
“She'll never like you, she's too good for you”
“You don't know the answer. Don't talk”
“Don't tell them. They won't love you. Not again”
“Don't commit. You'll only be hurt”
Shot down soldiers from the smoldering bullets of our own doubt.
Yes, we massacre as much of ourselves as much as possible.
We'd rather assume we are bad than good.

But self destruction is the destruction of yourself,
and someone else loves yourself.
Someone is knocking to hear the true beat of your feeling machine.
No longer dismantle yourself.
Do not take away that someone's favorite thing to look at.

Instead, let loose the broken straps of your heart and spill guts on the floor.
Sit down to write, pencil shaking to your pulse
and dance back the dead.
Give your desires mouth to mouth.
Give your heart recognition.
Give the dark your hand.
Flood the graveyard till the bodies rise.
Let it flow from the tips of tips of your fingers tips.
Don't contain your laugh
Don''t contain your love
Don't contain the childish things inside you.
Stand on heaping piles of failure and let loose on the world.
Whip out your crazy and wipe the shit from your shoes.
It most likely came from your brain
and out your own mouth when you said you weren't good enough.
do not hide your love,
do not hide your weirdness,
do not hide your you.
Sit down to write and do not destroy yourself a second longer.

Remember no one hates anyone more than you hate yourself.
And then forget how to hate.
Angels often come from recovered monsters who got sick of scary things.