Collections of a Broken Mind

Collections of a Broken Mind

I am seventeen years old
and I am as old as I have ever been.

I miss the streets,
walking the night
accompanied by the screaming silence
in the open dark.

How many truly understand what it is
to hear the thriving sound of life
in silence.

During the day, people look around,
see hate and filth,
and pass it along like
a rose vial.

They feed on it,
even though
it only eats them.
but why
suffer alone.

All the lonely people…

The lights,
small in contrast
to the black all around,
but so many
all around.
Everywhere.

Lights
Lights like
hopes and dreams.

I see beauty
everywhere.
Always
acknowledge the beauty
in all the small things.
Always.

Moments pass and fade,
memories remain.
The true meaning of
everlasting beauty.

If you have no home,
you are never lost.
I am not lost.

If you have friends,
you are never without family.
I am not alone.

This and more I understand,
yet still I wonder.

If ignorance is bliss,
but we seek understanding,
are we masochists?

Yet still I wonder,

It is better to have loved and lost
than to have never loved at all,
but is it better to have loved and lost
and never love again?

Anything is possible
through the eyes of a child.
The Magician is not a charlatan,
the Magician is a gardener.

He presents a dream.
It is his job to make you want to believe.
We sow the seeds of imagination.

If you can create a moment of wonder
you open a doorway to possibility.

I am who I am
and there is no one word
to give my life meaning,
for I am,
always have been,
and forever will be,
ineffable.

And still I wonder.

One thought on “Collections of a Broken Mind

  1. Ryan, this is amazing and beautiful! Thank you for sharing your innermost thoughts from the dark recesses of your soul. You are truly one of a kind.

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