1 Corinthians 13 New International Version (NIV)

13 If I speak in the tongues[a] of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast,[b] but do not have love, I gain nothing.

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. 9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10 but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. 11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. 12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Anger Is One Letter Short Of Danger - Poem - by Dr.Rajendra Tela,Nirantar

Anger is fire
It burns the soul
Anger is deep sea
Drowns one to death
Anger is a storm
Blows one
Out of the world
Anger is demon
Overpowers the mind
Anger is a virus
Slowly kills a person
Anger is evil
Brings one closer to hell
Anger is madness
Makes one suffer
Anger is an enemy
Destroys one slowly
Turns friendship
Into enmity
Always remember
Anger is
One letter short of
Danger
It takes its toll
Does not spare
A single soul

— Natalie Meza

“I find you in everything I do and everywhere I go.

I find you at midnight when the air outside is brisk and my body is cold. I smell you in between my white sheets through the lavender laundry detergent you thought might help me relax.

I find you in gardens when the smell of tulips remind me of the bouquet you left at my doorstep one March evening just because it was Thursday or the day we went to the city on a school day just for tulip mania and donuts.

I find you in play grounds and in nature walks when the smell of bark brings me back to the day you carved our initials into the tree we spilt tons of paint on after working on a canvas. You told me that everyone was artistic regardless of their capabilities so you filled a dozen eggs with paint and we ran around like children throwing the eggs at the canvas. I nearly missed every throw and left a memory forever printed into that tree. That was the day you imprinted something into my heart. That was the day you told me you were in love with me.

I find you in the books I read. We were similar and different all in the same ways. I loved the way new books smelled yet you liked the smell of old books. Every time I step into a bookstore I get a whiff of a memory that has ended along with every other story told.

I find you during my early morning runs when petrichor is the closest thing that I grasp of the motivation you once gave me at five a.m. When the rain pours in the mornings I smell the day we ran our fastest mile of the year because we were so worried about ruining our new running shoes–I can’t get myself to wear those shoes anymore.

I don’t just find you in places, I smell you. I know that it may sound ludicrous smelling someone who is no longer around, but I can’t seem to erase you from my senses. I can’t make you disappear if you’re still lingering in the air.”

— thepenaddict83

“I’ve been blessed with a beautiful mind but what a dangerous place it has become
It holds me captive by obsessing but it’s a masterpiece to some
I could never live a life of simplicity, I over think my every move
It forces me to toward perfection as if I have something to prove
It diminishes my craving for much needed seclusion
It turns my realistic thoughts into parallel illusions
It overpowers my intuition and forces me to make mistakes
It makes me take chances, putting any and everything at stake
It demands I share my thoughts, I can’t keep anything I feel in
It gives me the best justifications as I partake in sin
It reminds that I’m human and of all my pros and cons combined
It taught me that there’s a reason I’m a Prisoner of my own Mind….. -”

— e.a.s.

She was never crazy,
She just lived too vibrantly.
Always contained “too much” energy,
Constantly had a fire in her eyes,
Her vitality would radiate onto others.

The intensity of her spirit was just too much to take in at one time.

Her character wasn’t flawed,
It just underlined the flaws in everyone else’s personality.

— Rachel Dawson

“Letting go of her yesterday
Was harder than it seemed
She harboured millions of memories
Never to be redeemed.
Everyone around lived in their past
Wearing masks
Previously cast.

You’re not number one
If you happened to win the game yesterday.
You’re not rich
If you hoard all the worlds riches.
You’re not happy
With all your dreams achieved.

She pondered on the illusion
Of what she thought life would be.

Life must be lived each day
Not based on your yesterday.
With a heavy gulp,
She swallowed down the pain;
Never to be remembered again.”

I never needed you.

I never needed you,
To tell me I was pretty,
Or that my eyes sparkled in a particular light,
I never needed you,
To tell me my laugh,
Was like music to your ears,
Or my nose was your favourite feature because it was cute,
I never needed you,
To pick me up,
When I was down,
Or to fall behind me,
I never needed you,
To remind me of how strong I am,
When things get tough,
Or to rescue me,
I wasn’t lost,
I never needed your wings to help me fly,
And I never understood why,
Until I let you loose,
I never needed you,
Because I had me.

— synsynish

I. Tsunami

The moment I realised I liked you, I told myself I couldn’t. A plethora of reasons forbade me to do so but the heart wants what it wants. I plunged headfirst into the ocean of you; swam in my hopes and dreams, only to drown in my emotions every time I swim ashore to reality.

You are the tsunami of emotions that I feel when I look into your eyes.

II. Earthquake

Albeit the warnings of the danger that looms, my heart was stubborn and foolish. The more time I spent with you, the more I learned about you, and the more I fell. What I wasn’t prepared for was the sudden magnitude of feelings I had for you, even after the tremors subsided.

You are an earthquake that has shattered my soul.

III. Tornado

That night, you kissed me with beautiful words and false hope. Empty promises whispered into my ear that would dance across my skin. I was swept up in your lies, my feet above the ground as I soar high above the city lights. I spiralled out of control and fell down to earth —wrecked.

You are a tornado that destroyed me.

IV. Drought

I hate to admit it but after you left, my heart cracked on every path you have walked on. A now barren land, incapable of supporting new life. How could you breed love when you lacked the necessity that kept it alive? The tears kept on falling even though I was parched.

You are the drought in your leaving.

V. Flood

Time passed and I have learned to heal by stitching the broken pieces with threads of sentences and patches of paragraphs. Writing is my remedy but why is it every time I pick up my pen, all I ever write about is you?

You are the flood of memories that haunts my mind.

The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, by Sogyal Rinpoche. This book over all had the greatest impact on my life.

Most notably there was a poem in this book entitled "Autobiography in Five Chapters", by Portia Nelson:

1) I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in.
I am lost...
I am hopeless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

2) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I'm in the same place.
But it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

3) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in...it's a habit
My eyes are open; I know where I am;
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

4) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

5) I walk down another street.


I think of this poem often. It helps me remember how I want my life to be, thus helping me stop behaving in ways that are not conducive to having the life that I want.

— Haley Mae

tell me words aren’t powerful
go ahead
I dare you
I dare you to tell me that
words don’t make you feel things
tell me you don’t feel anything when your father told you you’re worthless
tell me that
tell me that you have no emotion
because darling
you ignorant fuck
I want to fix you
I don’t know what it is in me
that wants to fix everyone
I want to tell people what they are worth
i want to make them feel something
but most of the time people think I’m crazy
and I’m always afraid I will come on too strong
and maybe thats why I write it down
maybe that’s why people tend to call me quiet
maybe that’s why I’ve always been a bit unwelcoming
I’m afraid of what I have to say
because I’m afraid it will be to brutally true
but then again
maybe it could fix you

— rainbow-writing

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think

that caring about you

was such a crime.

Thirteen Word Story

You ripped the stitches

out of my heart.

Eight word Story

I am a wilting daisy,
while she is a stunning
blue rose.
Twelve word story

My heart shattered.

Loudly. Yours didn’t

Six word story

Don’t tell me you hate

me. I will fall apart.

Ten word story”

Storm

“Her face was a storm.
She was frost,
winter winds,
shivering lips
even when she smiled -
especially then.
It was a storm smile - 
the kind of smile that said “I cant stay long.”
It was a thunder and lightning smile - 
here
for a moment
and
then
g o n e .
I could tell from her eyes she was either broken
or breaking.
I didn’t know which was worse.”

i love this girl

— Gate Keeper, CCXCV

“Stop romanticizing the past.
Stop thinking about the way he smelled on your pillow beside at three A.M.
Stop remembering how high you could get off of her kiss.
Stop wondering where it went wrong, or why it went wrong, or when.

Start romanticizing yourself.
Start staring in the mirror and telling yourself how the fire in your eyes is there, no matter how dim.
Start wanting to hear the sound of your own laugh because it’s the most pure music you know.
Start feeling your own heartbeat in the dead of night when nothing goes right.

Stop fighting off tears.
Stop talking to people who won’t listen.
Stop feeling like this is over.

You’re just beginning, love.

Start crying at two in the morning, even though you’ll never understand why.
Start talking to the ceiling and your pillow; they won’t betray you.
Start listening to your own breathing when you fall asleep.

It’s time, dear, to stop looking at what could have been.
Because, my precious sweetheart, you should be all you will ever need.

His cologne is a perk that you can live without.
Her lipstick on your lips is a smudge you can live without.
Your joy?

Your joy, dearest darling, you cannot live without.”

— Sade Andria Zabala | More Guts Than Fish, More Balls Than You

“Do not call me weak.
It was brave of me to love you, and
it was brave of me to leave you.

It was strength enough for me to walk away
when my legs were shaking,
lungs were aching,
body screaming out for you still

I
walked
away.
And now I’m here.

So don’t ever call me weak.
I am courageous as fuck.”

— jessica therese, after “15 Texts I Almost Sent To You" by d.a.s

1. We were in tune like synchronised swimmers.
Now I learn to navigate the oceans on my own.
[delete]

2. I sobbed on public transport yesterday.
I wanted to call you but then remembered
I’m not allowed to.
[delete]

3. The truth is: I know I’m better off
without you, but these memories
keep tricking me.
[delete]

4. You make me feel like a walking cliché.
I need to stop romanticising leaving,
stop comparing your collar bones to
valleys and your freckles to constellations.
[delete]

5. Can you jumpstart my heartbeat again?
I’m running so low on fuel.
[delete]

6. God knows I need to delete your number.
[delete]

7. Please don’t ever contact me again.
[delete]

8. Perhaps we were destined to falter
from the start,
just as Venice is doomed to sink.
[delete]

9. Speaking of Venice,
you should visit while there
is still time.
[delete]

10. You made the words
feel just right. Now they spin
off kilter.
[delete]

11. You had little nicknames for me.
I secretly miss being called moon shell,
tiger, fairy nymph.
[delete]

12. Maybe we were just a collection
of dead ends and false starts.
We should have been disqualified
from the beginning.
[delete]

13. Grief is the same in any language.
I mourn you. I collect flowers and place them
on your grave in the cemetery.
[delete]

14. You are so much more than human.
[delete]

15. Despite all of this, there is some
beautiful solitude in sleeping with
only my heartbeat
for company.
[delete]

— i.c. // to the ones who lost their best friend (via delicatepoetry)

“She always loved the sea, but that never explained

why I saw shipwrecks in her smile. She was the type

of girl that slipped out of your fingers like sand,

especially when you tried to hold on too tight, she

didn’t like being too close. She’d crash into men like

the waves crashed into rocks, she thought she would

find herself in them but she never did. I told her she

already had something. I told her that the emotions

she held inside her were gifts to be written and given,

but instead she swallowed pills that took them away.

She asked me if I believed in heaven and I said yes,

and followed it with a don’t go without me. She shook

away the smile on her face and said one day she’d meet

me between the sea and the sun, I didn’t understand

what the hell she meant so I just said okay. It wasn’t

until the next day I called her in the morning and got no

answer, no answer, no answer.

The last time I caught a glimpse of her was when I set

her ashes free, between the sun and the sea. Where

she wanted to be.”

Dedicated to Rae

“The second time I overdosed,
my body couldn’t handle it,
and I threw it all up.
I texted my dad saying,
“I think I took a little too many pills”.
And every time I’ve overdosed,
I always downplay it.
I’ve always tried to act
like it wasn’t a big deal.

That having the urge to swallow a whole bottle of pills
was something daily that normal people do.
My dad hurried home and saw the empty bottle
and he shook me to make sure I was awake.
I kept mumbling “I threw it up.. I threw it up..”
while I was drifting off to sleep.
He had to wake me up every 15 minutes
to make sure I was okay.

Let me tell you now,
it is a big deal.

The third time I overdosed,
I slept through first and second period
and passed out in the counselor’s office.
I didn’t want to go to the ER.
I just wanted to go home.
All I wanted to do was sleep.
Again, I just said,
“I think I took too many pills this morning.”

The fifth time I overdosed,
my dad found the empty pill box.
I hallucinated, I had a fever.
I couldn’t move my legs.
All I could do was scream,
“Don’t take me to the hospital this time.
I don’t want to go!”

I became friends with a girl who had overdosed
she’s one of my best friends now
and when I heard she was hospitalized as well,
it just makes me realize how real this problem is.

A couple months ago, another friend of mine overdosed.
Do you realize how fucked up it is,
that I’ve done it so many times
that I know the exact procedure that she’s going to go through?
She messaged me saying,
“I took a bunch of pills,
but I just realized I didn’t want to die.
I don’t know what to do.
Help.”

And I’m screaming at her over the screen
that she should throw it up and call 911
because sometimes when someone you love
decides that they hate the world,
that’s all you can do.
You can’t teleport through the phone.
You can’t travel through the internet.
You can’t be there to hold them
and take them to the hospital.

Your love is not charcoal that can
absorb all their poison in their life.
I know, love that you would have done all you could.
Sometimes words aren’t enough.
Sometimes love isn’t enough.
Sometimes a person needs to try dying
to know that that’s not really what they want.
There’s nothing you could have done.
You’ve done all you could.
Just keep loving them.

But you see the thing is,
I got lucky.
I’ve made it back from 5 overdoses
without a scratch on me.
But that’s not always the case.
My favorite teacher’s stepdaughter
locked herself in her room and overdosed.

To this day,
her stepmother still has a scar on her heart.
To this day,
on the anniversary of her death,
her stepmother still stays home from school
on the anniversary of her death.
Her sister is in a bad mental state,
and so is her biological mother.
Her family has fallen apart.

You overdose because you think
you will get a peaceful release from death.
It’s not peaceful.
It is not like falling asleep.
It is convulsions, vomiting,
muscle spasms, fevers,
and sharp stomach pains.

An overdose is not instant.

Hollywood has you believing,
that an overdose
is how a lady should exit the world.
As quiet as she came in,
Peaceful and unnoticed.

You will go out kicking and screaming
and wishing you hadn’t taken them.”

— 6:03 p.m. (I think I’m done overdosing)

Dedicated to Rae

I am a princess…

— A.Y // adam

“You’ve got wanderlust
stamped on to your heart
next to a list of promises 
to see more, 
do more, 
be more. But tonight, 
you’re in a city
that understands loneliness
all too well, with
people who know loss ―
they can pick him out
in a crowd. Tonight,
you’re looking at the stars 
with your eyes shut, and
I hope you find home. I hope 
you remember the way 
the sky looked when it 
opened blue. 
I hope you find tomorrow.”