If You're:
Too Sensitive:
You Hafta'
Over-THINK
EVERYTHING!
Or Vice-Versa:
Who Cares?
***
Nothing.
-Gray Squirrel
Fabrics are sown
So eyes are drawn to quieter things
Softer
Scratching isn’t as unbearable as screaming
I wield control to my ears
Over the entry of theirs too
Better than taps
Pressure, expected,
Is not that intense
Leaning, relying, assisting
Mostly whispers cannot escape me
My ears with a constant ache
My head tries to convey my heart
Yet they say I cannot expel it to the outside
So the frog turns into a lion
And I cannot breathe
My intensity builds up
And it clots my heart
Eyes, eye
I don’t care, get it off me
The screams around me speak my name
Don’t they
Let me scratch more of my thoughts
The paper grows worn
And my feelings do too
Understand me
I do not want to attempt
to communicate
But your mocks make me overthink
My stomach churns the thought of my incompetence
I cannot talk,
So it’s my fault, really
If I numb my feels,
It won’t bring me chills for real
My eyes are of teals
Sensitivity —
It’s kills and breaks me sorely
Tremendously so
Don’t break me or else…
I’ll tear apart at the seams
Intrusive thoughts bleed…
Kindling kindness galore
I don’t feel unmerciful anymore
Trust in me confidently
Believe in me, reflect on me
The Last 39 Minutes of My Life
In the last 39 minutes….
38 minutes….
37 minutes….
I never was able to stop counting the minutes….
36 minutes….
35 minutes….
I start to wonder what would happen….
If I took my last breathe….
What it would taste like….
29 minutes….
I should’ve taken that job….
I should have moved to New York….
I should have ignored my parents and fallen in love….
I should have fallen in love….
I could have been so much….
More….
If there is another life….
I will be courageous….
I will be proud….
I will be peaceful….
I will be loved.
I want a little love
Nothing is my home, just a question, got and on, the flow of life getting on
Be my kind, flowers of mind, enjoy my heart, the ice is not fault and mind
Be me
Let my life you
Getting an emotion
I love you
Good time, bad time,
contrasting confused sensitivities
partition time continuum unequally.
Live the impermanent sequence,
repeated beyond control
as perceptive pieces of life in time mosaic.
SENSITIVITY
a
universe
of rhythms
encourage
urgency
to revelation
in
a sequence
a substitute
for
emotion
balanced
&self-contained
versatility
action
without
disruption
meditation
shaped
by
phrasing
modest
utility
unguarded
& fruitful
As your beauty commands my attention I ponder my place in the grand scheme of things.
Were it not for my weakness she might lose her vanity which masks itself in a lovers promise of tomorrow.
As she walks by she uses her hypnotic curves to set abound a course to which I must act in accordance with her will.
She turned him into a junkie overnight. Pheromones being his narcotic to which there are no 12 steps to healing.
I hide behind false identities
So pain can't find me,
sat on the sofa ravaged by dreams
reading in the light of the candle of happiness.
Wrapped my bare shoulders wet with tears,
With a blanket of warm cotton happiness.
So much happiness is in my soul!
You wait for me at the entrance of a
well-prepared future,
falling to my knees
With three roses in hand
looking at me, reading in my eyes a destiny
embracing me
with a touch of the sensitivity of my thoughts.
More lamenting from that "Mediclueless" hypochondriac...
Sensitivity, sensitivity,
I've got it in spades, head to toe.
I'm sure my sensitivity's passed down genetically
From ancestors long, long ago.
It's the epitome of exquisite agony,
And I suffer it more than my due.
Or could be I'm the progeny of poetic pedigree,
Which might explain why I'm sensitive, too.
Sensitive toenails, sensitive fingertips,
Sensitive arches of feet,
I'm convinced that my intense sensitivity's
Making my life incomplete.
Sensitive eyelids, sensitive earlobes,
Sensitive dimples and hair,
Can't stand the bright noonlight, or even the moonlight,
I just can't take me anywhere.
Sensitive elbows, sensitive wrist joints,
Sensitive ankles and knees,
That's the sensitive whole of me, in its entirety…
Won't somebody just shoot me, please?
Too sensitive will make life hard
Too ignorant will make life meaningless
Our five gifted senses
Do sense life and its essences
Because we're sensitive and we care
Sensitivity will bring us
Truth and justice
Prevention and salvation
Avoidance of errors, dangers and traps
A better life
A better ideology
A better affection and love
Lastly
A better world to live
For the next generation
Whom we love and care
sensitivity, keep
for humanity weep
~ part the clouds
Every step she takes rocks her world.
A butterfly is a dragon.
Life is a beast that must be slain.
It rips her heart apart with its cruel fangs
Leaving a red raw wound.
The pain is so immense that she can hardly stand
Every touch is a branding.
It burns a mark on her heart that cannot be erased.
She cares too much.
She would crawl through hell
She would bang on the gates of heaven
for those she loves.
But love means pain.
Love is the brand that marks her heart.
Life shreds, love burns
but existence without them would be empty.
So the pain is a gift.
Excerpts from the compilation: “Prayer” 8
Sensitivity, Curiousity, Intelligence
I wish that we can all practice nurturing
and nourishing
our Sensitivity,
Never stop being Curious
and asking uncomfortable questions,
Have the courage to wake up
and use our Intelligence
And take great care
that we are not “Numbed” or “Overwhelmed”.
Especially:
By the huge amount of companies, apps and services
That “apparently” cost us nothing,
But whose (not so secret) objectives are
To hypnotise, control, manipulate and sell –
Especially to our children.
Or by the endless amount of mostly,
sensation seeking media
Controlled by the spectres,
some of whom we call leaders,
That work best in the shadows
And only trust the light of day
When they hide behind their grand titles
and practiced, smiling masks,
Feeding their hungry egos and lust for power
By creating separation,
Panic, drama
and questionable regulations and laws.
Who together
Are slowly, secretly removing our hard fought
Foundations and monuments of freedom:
Brick by brick...
© Sangeet Portals 2020
Some are sensitive more than others
It's an inbred trait, just like a buffer
Causes some problems
We get up on our haunches
Uncontrollable it is, right down to the buzzer
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