All of You

You.

Yes You.

All of you.

Your chaos and your madness

Your foolish nonsense

Your fearless magic

You are welcome here

Your passion and your eros

Your red fever dreams

Your resistance

Your doubt

Your power, wild and uncontained

You, yes, you

Your fist of rage

Your bottomless grief

Your heart break bursting out at the seams

Spilling out in messy floods of Inconvenient feelings

You.

Yes, you.

Your oceans of confusion

Your terror running deep

Your river of longing

Your precious illusions

Even if it makes you look foolish

Even if it makes you go mad

All of you is welcome here

Your brain tangled with neurons Firing wild impulses

From the dark forest of your unconscious

You are Welcome Here

The twisted vines and purple fog of melancholy in your heart

Your bloody messy crazy love

Your fears

Your Desires, wet with unrequited lust

Pushing and stretching to be expressed

The lies you told yourself

Your deepest regrets

The mess of never getting it exactly as you had planned

You. Yes. You.

Your awkward stumbles

Your shakey knees

Your hunger for some meaning

You are welcome Here

Your flaming hatred

Your tender broken faith

Your need for control

You are welcome here.

Your untainted innocence

Your will to rise again

The pain you try to hide .

You Are welcome here.

I want every part of me touched and seen

I want to be as big as the universe and

As tiny as an insect

I want every contradiction

Every disproportionate feeling

Every chaotic thought to be met

Right Here.

I want to writhe and howl and groan with the deep root of Life

I want to be held with such soft sweetness that

This fragile ache finally opens and lets go.

I want to be known as a depraved and holy animal

As consciousness, as infinite

As flesh and bone and skin

I want to roll on the ground and slither

I want to scream

I want to kiss where my feet have been

I want to cry and need and feel

Right. Here.

I want to explode and hold This ancient pulsing groan of ocean

that lives in me

Right Here.

Meet me here

where the paint touches the canvas

Where the past is dead and dangling

Where the future is a vacant space

Right. Here.

Where this unfolding moment is the refuge of the heart

Right. Here.

Come with (me) US

You are welcome here

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I am not I

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Viktor E. Frankl Quotes