I gave up
On healing my trauma
I gave up
On practicing the skills
To become whole
Today I gave up
Into that ever elusive
Better version of myself
Today I submitted
To the wound of love
I stopped pointing at it
Looking at it
I stopped this game of separation
I crawled inside the wound
And spread it open
I decided to wear it like a gown
I accepted my total and utter
To be anything else
For more poems from Maya Luna visit https://www.depravedanddivine.com/blog
You wear your silence as a black silk gown, woven infinitesimal, every thread a letter of your lover's name.
Music is created from energetic patterns of tonal and rhythmic interval. It is the ratio of these intervals…
from "Island" by Aldous Huxley Somewhere between seeing and speaking, somewhere Between our soiled and…
Sometimes a wild god comes to the table. He is awkward and does not know the ways
We live our lives of human passions, cruelties, dreams, concepts, crimes and the exercise of virtue in and beside a world devoid of our preoccupations...
Often in our world of mass-produced goods and machine-like cities, we strive for perfection,
We never value or even see some things in our lives until we are just about to lose them.
Please, please don’t worry. How many times do I have to say it?
image by Android Jones Where will I find you? Where will I find you, my friend? In an accusing forest…
Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu, Buddhist, Sufi, or Zen. Not any religion or cultural system.…
God speaks to each of us as he makes us, then walks with us silently out of the night.
All will come again into its strength: the fields undivided, the waters undammed,
Silent and serene, forgetting words, bright clarity appears before you.
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