My Inner Child
- Leituras 6
- Votos 1
- Capítulos 1
I just got robbed, this is like a promise to never fall into a state of depression. i never really loved myself fully so its just a way for me to say im human and i'm not perfect. i make mistakes. This is an ode for people who have lost things but still hold and protect their inner child
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#78
acknowledgement
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Medicine
Cutting open my heart to pour out how I feel. It comes down in floods of blood as words scatter on the floor in a jumbled mess or a pathetic attempt to explain my feelings. A book filled with all of my poetry. Enjoy the somewhat dark and somewhat light hearted rhyming poems that I have written.Concluída
Tales Of A Broken Home
I'm so afraid of endings. Before he died, my father used to say that life is a long hallway and people come and go as they pass by our doors. Some stay for a while, some just peek in, and some never enter at all. But they all leave their mark on us, and we on them. And when our own door finally opens, we'll look back and see a trail of people we've loved and lost along the way. I used to think that was just his way of coping with his own mortality, but now I understand. Every time someone leaves my life, I feel like I'm losing a part of myself. I've always had a hard time saying goodbye, holding onto moments and memories like they're fragile pieces of glass. But no matter how tightly I hold on, eventually they slip from my grasp and shatter into a million pieces. Maybe it's because of how I was born, in the midst of a storm that tore my family apart. Maybe it's because my father left too soon, and I'm scared that everyone else will too. All I know is that I'm so afraid of endings that I cling to beginnings like they're my lifeline, hoping that they'll stretch out forever. But they never do. And every time I'm faced with another goodbye, I feel like I'm losing a little piece of myself. I try to hold onto the memories, the feelings, the moments I never want to forget. But they always fade, leaving me with a bittersweet ache in my chest. I know that life is a constant cycle of beginnings and endings. And every ending is just a new beginning waiting to happen. But it doesn't make it any easier to let go, to say goodbye, to watch someone I love walk away from my life. So I'll hold onto the beginnings for as long as I can. I'll savor every moment, every feeling, every memory. And when the time comes to say goodbye, I'll hold on a little tighter, and I'll try to remember that endings are just a part of the journey.Concluída
Tethered
Bright lights, the beat of the music beneath my feet. Distant chatter, quite whispers. The feeling of joy, loss, heartbreak, and loneliness surround me. Buried in a crowd, drowning under the gazes of people who look through you. I am but of glass, a mirror if you will, willing to be seen through, but not seen. Screaming in a room full of people when no one can hear you, let alone see you. Hidden breaths, rising, falling. Isn't that funny, falling? Laughing would be easier than standing here in the crowded place, filled with people, faces, judging every moment the other makes. I could tell you the peace I get standing alone in a room filled with people who only see you as a mirror for who they don't want to be. I could cry tears of blood, and non would ever so much bat an eye in my direction, but I love it. The feeling of being unseen as to appose being seen for the matieral object I once was. Silent, unmoving, unwilling. I am but an idea, glass, shatterable, broken beyond compare. But strong, resistance flows through me. Willing me to be the best I can be, but can I? Who says I make sense, who says I am even me, am I? That's a question I spent years wondering. Who would I be without these scars that tether my skin, marking each even, like a calender. To mend the feelings people have isn't a easy thing, but to break is easy, always easy. How easy it is to forget, to run. I can feel the ground beneath my feet, feel the soil in-between the crooks of my toes, I could describe to you the smell of the rain. Pinpoint the center of the earth, but as I stand here, again amongst the crowd of people stand in this room. I am lost again, an idea, but for what purpose? If I could run, navigate my way through this crowd, I would seek refuge somewhere dark and cold, where I could take off this cloak and be one with who I am, or want to be.
Built for the Storm: A Journey Through a Mind That Won't Sit Still
Sometimes, I feel like I was designed not to live - but just to survive. My brain doesn't crave joy, meaning, or legacy - it just tries to prevent crisis. It calculates food, money, safety. It panics. It runs. It hides. And somehow... it keeps missing life. I've spent years trying to understand why my mind behaves this way. Why it imagines catastrophes while standing still. Why it avoids the simplest task. Why it overthinks even brushing teeth, but can ride a cycle for 100 km in the rain without blinking. One day, when I was still, completely still... with no task to distract me... this strange feeling overtook me. The thought that maybe - just maybe - I am not supposed to design my own purpose. I looked up. And I said, silently: "God... if You made me this way... if You crafted this restless, impulsive, chaos-driven machine of a brain... then You must know where I fit. Use me. Don't let me rot in guilt and survival. Don't let me just float. You know this universe in ways I never can. You know every corner of it. So You must know the one place where this exact wiring of mine can become meaningful." This wasn't surrender from pain. It was surrender from trying to control something I've clearly never understood. I don't need peace. I don't need success. I need to be used. Fully. For something only this kind of life, this kind of mind, could contribute. If I am a tool, let me build something. If I am a flame, let me burn where light is needed. But don't keep me in the dark asking, "Why me?" Maybe I wasn't built to ask. I was built to be assigned.Concluída
The Afterglow
"Tell me the truth, John... If I had told you I loved you back then... would you have stayed?" I should've told him. That I loved him. That I stayed up rereading our chats like they were scripture. That I saved his missed calls, even when I swore I was over him. But I didn't. And maybe that's why he left without saying goodbye. We were never in a relationship. But somehow, I remember him more deeply than the ones I was with. I used to think he ruined me - until I realized... he built a version of me I didn't recognize anymore. Now I'm learning how to let go of someone I was never holding in the first place. This is not a love story. This is the afterglow - what remains when love doesn't stay... but never really leaves.
"Things I Never Said Out Loud"
Not a recovery book....🫶🏼 Here lie the words I swallowed, the pain I buried, and the questions they told me not to ask.Concluída
Scarred Gem
A tale of fear.
WHEN THE RAIN FORGOT TO FALL
I wrote this because I needed to survive it. Because there are some feelings too big for silence. Some heartbreaks too heavy to carry alone. This isn't fiction. This is my heart, broken open and rearranged into verse. "I saw you standing where the sidewalk curves, and suddenly my chest knew different words." - That's how it started. A glance. A stranger. A feeling I couldn't ignore. "You said we needed to talk. Those five words, I knew. I already knew." - And that's how it ended. Not with fire. With silence. I won't tell you that time heals all wounds. I won't say everything happens for a reason. I won't pretend heartbreak makes you stronger. But I will show you that: You can survive what you think will destroy you. You can break and still become beautiful. You can love someone and lose them and still be whole. You can be your own happy ending. I wrote these poems with tears on my face. I wrote them on good days when I forgot to hurt. Every word is something I actually felt. Every line is a moment I actually lived. "You are not broken. You are breaking open. And that's where the light gets in." - That's what this taught me. That's what I hope it gives you, the comfort of knowing you're not alone.Concluída
Cutting open my heart to pour out how I feel. It comes down in floods of blood as words scatter on the floor in a jumbled mess or a pathetic attempt to explain my feelings. A book filled with all of my poetry. Enjoy the somewhat dark and somewhat light hearted rhyming poems that I have written.
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