LindenLark - Hello Poetry

They say pressure makes diamonds. Fine. But here’s my truth: My peace was forged under every ******* ounce of what came before.

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May 13, 2025

May 13, 2025 at 11:38 AM UTC

Better Than a Diamond

They say pressure makes diamonds. Fine. But here’s my truth: My peace was forged under every ******* ounce of what came before.

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I hope we’ve learned patience. Not just how to wait, but how to be in the waiting. I hope we’ve stayed close to the people who see us clearly, and stopped running from the good before it has a chance to hold us. For the love of all things good, please— stop holding back just because you’re scared you won’t get it perfect on the first try. You are not a god. No one expects that of you. I hope we are finally living, really living— because I’m tired of always feeling like we’re dying in the name of survival.

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Apr 18, 2025

Apr 18, 2025 at 10:47 AM UTC

I’m Trying. Don’t Give Up.

I hope we’ve learned patience. Not just how to wait, but how to be in the waiting. I hope we’ve stayed close to the people who see us clearly, and stopped running from the good before it has a chance to hold us. For the love of all things good, please— stop holding back just because you’re scared you won’t get it perfect on the first try. You are not a god. No one expects that of you. I hope we are finally living, really living— because I’m tired of always feeling like we’re dying in the name of survival.

23

I don’t think I could ever like my face, not even on its best day. It’s the only hall in my life where you never lost your place.

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Apr 16, 2025

Apr 16, 2025 at 6:54 AM UTC

When Will I Know Peace

I don’t think I could ever like my face, not even on its best day. It’s the only hall in my life where you never lost your place.

4

Do you ever feel like your story is being written for you? Maybe that’s why I write— because when I look down, at least I know it’s mine. How did I get so lost, so far from what was once so bright? Page after page keeps turning, but my pen ran out of ink long ago. Time keeps passing, but the story unfolding isn’t me. Maybe my story was never mine. Maybe it belongs to someone else. Maybe I’m just a book collecting dust on a stranger’s shelf. Maybe that’s why I write— so that somewhere, buried in those pages, there is at least one part that is undeniably mine.

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Mar 27, 2025

Mar 27, 2025 at 1:25 PM UTC

This Foreign Book of Mine

Do you ever feel like your story is being written for you? Maybe that’s why I write— because when I look down, at least I know it’s mine. How did I get so lost, so far from what was once so bright? Page after page keeps turning, but my pen ran out of ink long ago. Time keeps passing, but the story unfolding isn’t me. Maybe my story was never mine. Maybe it belongs to someone else. Maybe I’m just a book collecting dust on a stranger’s shelf. Maybe that’s why I write— so that somewhere, buried in those pages, there is at least one part that is undeniably mine.

17

“Make the child fear you. Some people like to say respect is important, but nothing is more respectful than a well-trained child who fears you.” Ask him how well that turned out. All cold and alone, while three humans—half of him—walk the earth without a shred of regret that we will never exchange something as simple as hello again.

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Mar 27, 2025

Mar 27, 2025 at 10:05 AM UTC

Parenting Advice From My Father:

“Make the child fear you. Some people like to say respect is important, but nothing is more respectful than a well-trained child who fears you.” Ask him how well that turned out. All cold and alone, while three humans—half of him—walk the earth without a shred of regret that we will never exchange something as simple as hello again.

4

I fell in love with a boy at 16, and here is a list of things he taught me: 1.) People who love you will remember the little things. 2.) The people who look the happiest are probably not even a little happy. 3.) No matter how much you love someone, you can’t make them choose you. 4.) People will repeat the same traumas done to them without even realizing it. 5.) If you just lie there and silently cry, it’s over faster. P.S. I really hope you’re in therapy, especially now that I see you have a little girl you call your own.

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Mar 27, 2025

Mar 27, 2025 at 9:38 AM UTC

Some Lessons Are Meant to Be Unlearned

I fell in love with a boy at 16, and here is a list of things he taught me: 1.) People who love you will remember the little things. 2.) The people who look the happiest are probably not even a little happy. 3.) No matter how much you love someone, you can’t make them choose you. 4.) People will repeat the same traumas done to them without even realizing it. 5.) If you just lie there and silently cry, it’s over faster. P.S. I really hope you’re in therapy, especially now that I see you have a little girl you call your own.

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There must be something unseen woven into your very being. What else could explain how, with so much weight, you still move with such grace? Like a weightless ballerina on her toes, dancing across splintering boards, running amok on the stage— untouched, unbroken- At peace

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Mar 26, 2025

Mar 26, 2025 at 5:15 PM UTC

How Do You Make it Look So Easy?

There must be something unseen woven into your very being. What else could explain how, with so much weight, you still move with such grace? Like a weightless ballerina on her toes, dancing across splintering boards, running amok on the stage— untouched, unbroken- At peace

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I made a home inside you. And if fate ever tried to tear my home away, I would salt the ground beneath my feet Scorch the sky above me Engulfing everything in its reach, Until god themselves returns you to me.

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Mar 25, 2025

Mar 25, 2025 at 4:04 PM UTC

Excerpt from “The Home We Carved with a Spoon”

I made a home inside you. And if fate ever tried to tear my home away, I would salt the ground beneath my feet Scorch the sky above me Engulfing everything in its reach, Until god themselves returns you to me.

6

I made a home inside of you. It holds the pieces of me I don’t want the world to see, The parts that I swore held no beauty. But they are safe with you— The parts that are loud, unforgiving, The parts that demand. As we walk hand in hand through these halls, You teach me to listen, To let them be. “What are they really trying to say to me?” To see. To be seen. I made a home inside of you. It holds the fragile pieces I once hid away. At first, you softened the walls, As if you knew how much they mattered— they were seconds away from shattering. But not today. No more shoving them in a box. “These are the things the world deserves to see” You say. And as we unpack them, You remind me of their beauty. I made a home inside you. And if fate ever tried to tear my home away, I would salt the ground beneath my feet Scorch the sky above me Engulfing everything in its reach, Until god themselves returns you to me.

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Mar 25, 2025

Mar 25, 2025 at 2:06 PM UTC

The Home We Carved with a Spoon

I made a home inside of you. It holds the pieces of me I don’t want the world to see, The parts that I swore held no beauty. But they are safe with you— The parts that are loud, unforgiving, The parts that demand. As we walk hand in hand through these halls, You teach me to listen, To let them be. “What are they really trying to say to me?” To see. To be seen. I made a home inside of you. It holds the fragile pieces I once hid away. At first, you softened the walls, As if you knew how much they mattered— they were seconds away from shattering. But not today. No more shoving them in a box. “These are the things the world deserves to see” You say. And as we unpack them, You remind me of their beauty. I made a home inside you. And if fate ever tried to tear my home away, I would salt the ground beneath my feet Scorch the sky above me Engulfing everything in its reach, Until god themselves returns you to me.

28

My girl is made from fire and stardust. She feels like a child of the wind and the rain, Her wrath—an unprecedented hurricane. But love her, speak sweet words to her, And she is the cool breeze on an extra hot day, The reason you feel like it might be bearable to go out and play. She’s a light spring shower, Covering the earth with blooms, Bringing it all back to life. Oh, but don’t you dare stand in her way— She is divine feminine rage. The storms before—I swallowed them whole, And now I’m beginning to see That maybe all of that was to make sure She had an unshakable roar. And oh, is it beautiful to see That no one will stand in her way. Her words spill like lava, As steadfast as a bull, Yet her heart is still so full. Sweeter than honey— Until you challenge her storm, Until you test her form. And if you do, just know— I’ll pray For you To make it out alive. Because you see, my girl is made of stardust and fire— Two untamable things, Two forces together, unchained, Burning, rising— Unshaken, unbound, Stretching far above and below the ground. So think twice before you stand at her door, If you wish to endure the unfazed wrath Of all the women who came before. She is the storm, the flame, the roar— A force the world will soon learn Can never be ignored.

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Mar 18, 2025

Mar 18, 2025 at 12:56 PM UTC

Fire and Stardust

My girl is made from fire and stardust. She feels like a child of the wind and the rain, Her wrath—an unprecedented hurricane. But love her, speak sweet words to her, And she is the cool breeze on an extra hot day, The reason you feel like it might be bearable to go out and play. She’s a light spring shower, Covering the earth with blooms, Bringing it all back to life. Oh, but don’t you dare stand in her way— She is divine feminine rage. The storms before—I swallowed them whole, And now I’m beginning to see That maybe all of that was to make sure She had an unshakable roar. And oh, is it beautiful to see That no one will stand in her way. Her words spill like lava, As steadfast as a bull, Yet her heart is still so full. Sweeter than honey— Until you challenge her storm, Until you test her form. And if you do, just know— I’ll pray For you To make it out alive. Because you see, my girl is made of stardust and fire— Two untamable things, Two forces together, unchained, Burning, rising— Unshaken, unbound, Stretching far above and below the ground. So think twice before you stand at her door, If you wish to endure the unfazed wrath Of all the women who came before. She is the storm, the flame, the roar— A force the world will soon learn Can never be ignored.

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