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Moving Poetry by half-pixieman

Poetry by olivia0171


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May 21
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Being Okay Is The Hardest Thing We Do

 

because being okay is expected,
if we’re not okay, that’s not okay,
what can we do to be okay?
we can scribble illegible words
on a canvas made for by painters
masquerading as notebook paper,
and hope that we can sell the burn
of stinging emotions for some paper.

but the funny thing about that thought?

is that american money isn’t paper,
it’s 75% cotton and 25% linen fibers.
so even the money you'd earn from your misery,
isn't anything you can write on
when you realize your money isn't 
made to heal. even if it does talk. 
but it never really ever says enough, does it?
But that's okay...

being okay is the hardest thing we do
because sticks and stones do break bones,
but you can hide the scars 
with a jacket or longer sweatshirt.
or put on pants as opposed to athletic shorts.

words kill, words heal, and words are so much more.
and you can't hide the scars that riddle your face,
the way your brows furrow when you feel belittled,
or the way the corner of your mouth twitches
down in that quirky little way when you're anxious.
or that you bite your fingernails when you're anxious too.
anxious too.
anxious too.
you're way too anxious too.
But that's okay...

because you can't convey "okay" with a gesture,
thumbs up doesn't cut it
and it's easy to lie with "okay."
but these letters that make up 'okay'
and that make up language
can't hide the fact that you're really not okay.
because none of us are ever really okay.
it's a fleeting moment because there's always something,
like a pendulum swinging one way then back another,
the subtle collision a metaphor for life always hitting us back,
and the only time life stops hitting us 
is when those hands stop transitions,
like when a clock finally dies. 
But that's okay...a dead clock is right twice a day anyway.


being okay is hard, okay?!
because being okay means things are stagnant
and things aren't changing and things aren't moving.
we're not improving, we're not feeling, we're not doing.
and that's not okay.
so how can there ever be okay when okay is comfortable.
when are we ever comfortable for more than fleeting moments?

we always want something, 
need something.
eat something, drink something,
do something, write something,
feel something, be something.
But that's okay...

i need something, i need to drink something.
i need a hug or something.
arms wrapping around my torso or something.
because love is okay.
it's more than okay though, y'know?
do you understand what I'm saying?
nothing you do is okay,
it's more.

i strive for balance
but tonight i feel like shit,
but tomorrow i'll be better,
and yesterday's yesterday, i was good,
i felt like a king
(but what's a king without a crown?)
till we got to last night 
and i felt like...like..
a microscopic minutia of a lone iota
floating in the air of a vast amphora.
but i'm not stuck in a vase or urn
because I live on the edge of Earth.
and gravity entraps me to its sphere.


i honestly can't remember the last time i was okay.
But that's okay...
because we all just need love. Not "okay."
Add a Comment:
 
:iconmusicallybrunet:
musicallybrunet Featured By Owner Oct 18, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
whoa i just realized i never favorited this poem.... and this is where it all started, too.
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:iconchromeantennae:
chromeantennae Featured By Owner Oct 19, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
:tighthug: <33
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:icondoveangel8:
doveangel8 Featured By Owner Edited Oct 2, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Line from one of my poems... I might post the rest here someday,
"Your judging eyes perice the night
You look on me and see a victim
But my scars are marks of Glory
Not shame as you suppose
There is fire in my eyes
And armour beneath this scared flesh
The battle has made me stronger than you can guess"

Shrug it just felt right here. Not trying to intrude.

I guess I was 23 or so when I stopped trying to be ok.
I was tired of living a lie trying to squeeze in to "their" mould
Now I strive only to live authentically, honestly, to let my scars show
Because they are the Proof that I have Lived, not cowered and Not complied
But Lived
And that is all anyone can really do
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:iconchromeantennae:
chromeantennae Featured By Owner Oct 2, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
This is very interesting, indeed...Thank you so much for sharing that with me. :heart:
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:icondoveangel8:
doveangel8 Featured By Owner Oct 2, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank You <3
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:iconchromeantennae:
chromeantennae Featured By Owner Oct 2, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
<3
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:iconopenskyline:
openskyline Featured By Owner Aug 29, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Interesting concept, and yet one that comes ul every single day in life. Big things and little things happen and still the answer is okay. 
"Are you okay?" They ask when you trip, and you say yes, and when they trip it's what you ask them. 

Awesome poem you got here.
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:iconchromeantennae:
chromeantennae Featured By Owner Aug 30, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Exactly!
And thank you so much. :heart:
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:iconlissomer:
Lissomer Featured By Owner Aug 29, 2014   Writer
ONE HUNDRED AND TWO, BOOM
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