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Heartfelttruth
25/F Just trying to turn my pain into art / Infp:(:
We are all so very fragile. Our sun kissed porcelain faces are freckled with Achilles heel fault lines and chipped paint. Shining through to our nervous nervous system and our tendency to over think things. We hide so much inside of us. Behind dance less masquerades Our bodies held together only by cages of ivory bones cages that cradle the thin winged heart beats of our chest nervous moths stumbling around inside knocking books off of shelves and eating the sweaters that we use to keep our hearts from freezing over. The autumn wind is cold like sad glaciers and it's easy to break down at times like these. Our bones ache and shriek like boiling tea kettles. Making it hard not to shatter. We are all so fragile. Burnt out light bulb fragile. Frozen lake fragile. Defibrillated heartbeat fragile. We are broken branch fragile chronic alcoholics sobriety fragile. The middles school girls reaction to the word “fat” fragile We are the kind of fragile that set off big bangs. We are, paranoid breakable. And its got to the point where we have begun taping up our light leak vulnerabilities with perceptions of perfection and thoughts of rejection spending our time in dark rooms as our minds just keep reeling and trying to shut off feelings and unwind but we have been over exposed to such **** To slides and slides of negative negatives we used to burst apart with so much light. but the sun isn't shining honest, the night sky is black and its raining in all the wrong ways. We're out of season. sewing up the holes in our personality with floods of insecurities and droughts of identity. damning what matters. **** its hard to know what matters. But I am still trying to figure that one out And the moths are still here as the pendulum clocks keep ticking eating the sweaters that we used to keep our hearts from freezing over. But we are freezing to the core. The atoms inside of us splinting into half lives; we haven't even lived half of our lives yet we feel so ancient. The dust piles growing on our slanted bookshelves shoulders Our bright idea light bulbs flickering, getting covered up by snowdrifts. We are gas giants wrapping ourselves into open space darkness hiding from the bright side of the moon. Like a black cat superstition we are running from our own precondition of lying about being ourselves We pull dark black-hole hoods over our eyes wincing at the light trails of shooting stars though we, too, want to be brilliant. We try to orbit the sun hoping that humanity is a symphony; that being popular and having the most friends is what matters. and we can be where the grass is always greener by fitting in and by being mirrors Even though not being yourself is nauseating. We can be nauseating, we can be mirrors. Because we are scared that if we don't hide who we really are we may end up like Pluto. Ostracized for existing. floating around in space having stare downs with wormholes A shivering rock entity with a complete loss of identity. We already are so lost. Our souls waning and waxing Rocking back and forth on wood beams and porches. like an ADD moonbeam rocking chair. But now its time to stop in one place and readjust our backbones. Because I know that we are fragile, I know that. I know that its hard filling in the cracks that have found their way down our back-stabbed spines we all have our histories with being dropped and rejected. But we weren't made to be cardboard box people, packing tape and labels wrapped in all of the wrong places. we are boxes full of wormholes into other dimensions we are full of life and blood and bones, full of oceans and stardust and daggers There is so much more to us than our brown paper complexions. So climb out of those kangaroo pouch caves that you have called home for the last few years There's no need hiding anymore. You can be safe in your own skin. You can climb the Himalayas and scream out as many lightning rods as you want we will all be listening as you burst apart into thunder claps. As you bleed yourself into infinity So, dim the lights Throw your self at the world and crash like waves into existence you are perfect when you are yourself. Grab that porcelain off of your face and let your smile super nova fracture into a cosmic grin of constellations. People will look up to you and be inspired. A cardboard box rookie sprawled out in the stars. Lighting up all of our faces with E.T. fingertips. No longer hiding being reflective eclipses There's only one person who can tell you who you are. Only you can speak for yourself. I know that your fragile I know that. We all are..,
0
Apr 9
Apr 9, 2026 at 2:06 AM UTC
Paranoid Breakable
We are all so very fragile. Our sun kissed porcelain faces are freckled with Achilles heel fault lines and chipped paint. Shining through to our nervous nervous system and our tendency to over think things. We hide so much inside of us. Behind dance less masquerades Our bodies held together only by cages of ivory bones cages that cradle the thin winged heart beats of our chest nervous moths stumbling around inside knocking books off of shelves and eating the sweaters that we use to keep our hearts from freezing over. The autumn wind is cold like sad glaciers and it's easy to break down at times like these. Our bones ache and shriek like boiling tea kettles. Making it hard not to shatter. We are all so fragile. Burnt out light bulb fragile. Frozen lake fragile. Defibrillated heartbeat fragile. We are broken branch fragile chronic alcoholics sobriety fragile. The middles school girls reaction to the word “fat” fragile We are the kind of fragile that set off big bangs. We are, paranoid breakable. And its got to the point where we have begun taping up our light leak vulnerabilities with perceptions of perfection and thoughts of rejection spending our time in dark rooms as our minds just keep reeling and trying to shut off feelings and unwind but we have been over exposed to such **** To slides and slides of negative negatives we used to burst apart with so much light. but the sun isn't shining honest, the night sky is black and its raining in all the wrong ways. We're out of season. sewing up the holes in our personality with floods of insecurities and droughts of identity. damning what matters. **** its hard to know what matters. But I am still trying to figure that one out And the moths are still here as the pendulum clocks keep ticking eating the sweaters that we used to keep our hearts from freezing over. But we are freezing to the core. The atoms inside of us splinting into half lives; we haven't even lived half of our lives yet we feel so ancient. The dust piles growing on our slanted bookshelves shoulders Our bright idea light bulbs flickering, getting covered up by snowdrifts. We are gas giants wrapping ourselves into open space darkness hiding from the bright side of the moon. Like a black cat superstition we are running from our own precondition of lying about being ourselves We pull dark black-hole hoods over our eyes wincing at the light trails of shooting stars though we, too, want to be brilliant. We try to orbit the sun hoping that humanity is a symphony; that being popular and having the most friends is what matters. and we can be where the grass is always greener by fitting in and by being mirrors Even though not being yourself is nauseating. We can be nauseating, we can be mirrors. Because we are scared that if we don't hide who we really are we may end up like Pluto. Ostracized for existing. floating around in space having stare downs with wormholes A shivering rock entity with a complete loss of identity. We already are so lost. Our souls waning and waxing Rocking back and forth on wood beams and porches. like an ADD moonbeam rocking chair. But now its time to stop in one place and readjust our backbones. Because I know that we are fragile, I know that. I know that its hard filling in the cracks that have found their way down our back-stabbed spines we all have our histories with being dropped and rejected. But we weren't made to be cardboard box people, packing tape and labels wrapped in all of the wrong places. we are boxes full of wormholes into other dimensions we are full of life and blood and bones, full of oceans and stardust and daggers There is so much more to us than our brown paper complexions. So climb out of those kangaroo pouch caves that you have called home for the last few years There's no need hiding anymore. You can be safe in your own skin. You can climb the Himalayas and scream out as many lightning rods as you want we will all be listening as you burst apart into thunder claps. As you bleed yourself into infinity So, dim the lights Throw your self at the world and crash like waves into existence you are perfect when you are yourself. Grab that porcelain off of your face and let your smile super nova fracture into a cosmic grin of constellations. People will look up to you and be inspired. A cardboard box rookie sprawled out in the stars. Lighting up all of our faces with E.T. fingertips. No longer hiding being reflective eclipses There's only one person who can tell you who you are. Only you can speak for yourself. I know that your fragile I know that. We all are..,
Continue reading...
105
I put all my grief in a box Neatly packed and tightly sealed with a label As if I am moving on I don’t want to unpack my grief about you because I never wanted to pack that stuff to begin with I never wanted to move. No matter how hard I try to shove it in the back of my mind and pretend it doesn’t exist Something falls out of the box and I pick it up and am reminded of how much I love you Like a childhood stuffed animal I am too attached to, and refused to get rid of Even if it’s missing an eye, and all the stuffing is coming out the sides You comfort me, and I hold you. Wishing you were animated and could talk back. I look for you every where like a lost puppy that is searching for a home to keep warm I am stuck out in the cold and freeze. I sit on the corner begging time for spare change But my pockets and cup are empty I don’t want to accept this. There is too much grief to fit in that tiny box even if I seal it with a lock and shove it as far back as I can in a closet It all eventually exploded until my room is covered Until I am buried, overflowed, up to my ears with memories of you My mind still can’t wrap my head around this mess I pick up all the pieces one by one And comb over every detail over and over, a detective searching for DNA seeing if there is something I missed Hoping for even just a strand, a fiber, a string, a shred of your existence you left behind that leads me back to you Sometimes I find a loose thread and pull it hoping that maybe it’s a part of you But I just end up unraveling myself from the seams Until I am nothing but a pathetic, tangled ball of yarn on the floor I can’t untangle my grief. There’s too many complicated knots my little hands can’t untie I am forever tangled with you because you were my mother My beautiful mother. How I wish that you could hold me in your arms one more time or read me lullabies 22 was too young to lose you. I wasn’t ready to grow up without you I wasn’t ready to say goodbye because how can you say goodbye to the one person who taught you to say hello, and taught you all the colors of the rainbow? There is nothing like a mother’s love. And oh how you and your love shined like the sun above I am afraid of the dark, I am afraid of this world without you in it. There’s too many monsters underneath my bed and inside my head, I want to run to your room so you can show me that everything is gonna be okay, and that my mind is just playing tricks on me. You litter my mind, I find pieces of you everywhere, but one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. You are my treasure, you are precious to me, I clutch you tight to my chest, hoping nothing can steal you away from me. My compass, my lighthouse that points me back to shore I am lost at sea, homesick and sea sick I just wanted to go back to land again so for once so this vertigo can stop, so I can feel steady and stable but I can’t when the ground is shaking beneath me. You were my North Star that I looked for to guide me home I am forever stuck in this infinite void with my stomach churning and my heart yearning and pining for you. Searching for a message in a bottle How I will forever miss you, my beautiful star You were something special, you will always win the 1st place medal in my mind I miss your scent but all your belongings have faded of that because you have spent too much time in that box Eventually at some point I have to put everything back in the box until next time. I love to see all my treasure that I’ve collected, all the sparkly pretty things that distract me from this ugly reality Then I will resume, go back and carry on, pretending that I am okay without you. I carry myself through life with my child like curiosity, with lightness, a kindness that you taught me I love you my beautiful mother When it all becomes too much I’ll just hide under the covers and pretend that you are tucking me and saying goodnight and I love you one last time.
0
Jan 31
Jan 31, 2026 at 12:29 AM UTC
A box too small for grief
I put all my grief in a box Neatly packed and tightly sealed with a label As if I am moving on I don’t want to unpack my grief about you because I never wanted to pack that stuff to begin with I never wanted to move. No matter how hard I try to shove it in the back of my mind and pretend it doesn’t exist Something falls out of the box and I pick it up and am reminded of how much I love you Like a childhood stuffed animal I am too attached to, and refused to get rid of Even if it’s missing an eye, and all the stuffing is coming out the sides You comfort me, and I hold you. Wishing you were animated and could talk back. I look for you every where like a lost puppy that is searching for a home to keep warm I am stuck out in the cold and freeze. I sit on the corner begging time for spare change But my pockets and cup are empty I don’t want to accept this. There is too much grief to fit in that tiny box even if I seal it with a lock and shove it as far back as I can in a closet It all eventually exploded until my room is covered Until I am buried, overflowed, up to my ears with memories of you My mind still can’t wrap my head around this mess I pick up all the pieces one by one And comb over every detail over and over, a detective searching for DNA seeing if there is something I missed Hoping for even just a strand, a fiber, a string, a shred of your existence you left behind that leads me back to you Sometimes I find a loose thread and pull it hoping that maybe it’s a part of you But I just end up unraveling myself from the seams Until I am nothing but a pathetic, tangled ball of yarn on the floor I can’t untangle my grief. There’s too many complicated knots my little hands can’t untie I am forever tangled with you because you were my mother My beautiful mother. How I wish that you could hold me in your arms one more time or read me lullabies 22 was too young to lose you. I wasn’t ready to grow up without you I wasn’t ready to say goodbye because how can you say goodbye to the one person who taught you to say hello, and taught you all the colors of the rainbow? There is nothing like a mother’s love. And oh how you and your love shined like the sun above I am afraid of the dark, I am afraid of this world without you in it. There’s too many monsters underneath my bed and inside my head, I want to run to your room so you can show me that everything is gonna be okay, and that my mind is just playing tricks on me. You litter my mind, I find pieces of you everywhere, but one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. You are my treasure, you are precious to me, I clutch you tight to my chest, hoping nothing can steal you away from me. My compass, my lighthouse that points me back to shore I am lost at sea, homesick and sea sick I just wanted to go back to land again so for once so this vertigo can stop, so I can feel steady and stable but I can’t when the ground is shaking beneath me. You were my North Star that I looked for to guide me home I am forever stuck in this infinite void with my stomach churning and my heart yearning and pining for you. Searching for a message in a bottle How I will forever miss you, my beautiful star You were something special, you will always win the 1st place medal in my mind I miss your scent but all your belongings have faded of that because you have spent too much time in that box Eventually at some point I have to put everything back in the box until next time. I love to see all my treasure that I’ve collected, all the sparkly pretty things that distract me from this ugly reality Then I will resume, go back and carry on, pretending that I am okay without you. I carry myself through life with my child like curiosity, with lightness, a kindness that you taught me I love you my beautiful mother When it all becomes too much I’ll just hide under the covers and pretend that you are tucking me and saying goodnight and I love you one last time.
Continue reading...
54
History is old, but there are many stories that never got told, There are things that no one will ever know, I ask myself why the world is this position, what build up made this transition? History books stitching bits of information together, Missing so many pieces, they placed things where they wanted, told the teachers and they taught it, and we all bought it But now I can’t help but to dawn on it. Lies mascaraed the truth, we’ve beaten people black and blue just so you can do what you do, This whole country was founded on hate, No wonder so many people are stuck in a negative space, They say we have freedom but there is reason none of us are speaking up, we’re stuck, Tied to money, like cinder blocks on our feet, we sink, Our foundation made of our ancestors bones, we sit on top of it like a throne of lies You’re on the top of the pyramid no surprise, how many people did you have to step on to get that high? You’re low, beneath the ground, hell bound, I don’t even believe in it But the way people are getting treated is excused as convenience, It’s a repetitive, destructive sequence, Screaming at high frequency Can you see? Or are you as blind as they’ll let you be.
0
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
America