rose-hopkins - Hello Poetry

We are pack animals A tribal people The human race Beyond retrieval All we ever need Is to be accepted Wanted , loved And not rejected.

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rose-hopkins

May 1

May 1, 2026 at 12:53 PM UTC

rose-hopkins

Integration v discrimination

We are pack animals A tribal people The human race Beyond retrieval All we ever need Is to be accepted Wanted , loved And not rejected.

8

_Inspired by self-reflection_ I met myself in morning light, Not fixed, not fierce, not fully known. The mirror did not judge or bite, It simply held me, skin and bone. Joy waits for us to see, not flee, To meet our gaze and let it be.

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rose-hopkins

Oct 29, 2025

Oct 29, 2025 at 3:30 PM UTC

Geof_Spavins

Day 33: The Mirror Waits

_Inspired by self-reflection_ I met myself in morning light, Not fixed, not fierce, not fully known. The mirror did not judge or bite, It simply held me, skin and bone. Joy waits for us to see, not flee, To meet our gaze and let it be.

7

“I folded your longing into a paper planet and fed it to the wind,” whispered the swan as the window closed. The bed, now empty, unfolded from flight into a map of sighs, each border a bruise, each continent still warm. The god flipped the coin again. This time, no one watched. The room held its breath. Her silence bartered for my myth. My myth, a tax on forgetting. Her touch decoded the invisible ink of skin-as-receipt. My name, still weather. Time, still sideways. Gravity returned. Shame did not. She laughed like cinnamon, bit velvet into stars, and folded moons from the breath I’d left behind. I paid her in moons. Waxed. Waned. And waited for the wind to spend them.

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rose-hopkins

Oct 29, 2025

Oct 29, 2025 at 3:29 PM UTC

Geof_Spavins

The Wind Paid Me

“I folded your longing into a paper planet and fed it to the wind,” whispered the swan as the window closed. The bed, now empty, unfolded from flight into a map of sighs, each border a bruise, each continent still warm. The god flipped the coin again. This time, no one watched. The room held its breath. Her silence bartered for my myth. My myth, a tax on forgetting. Her touch decoded the invisible ink of skin-as-receipt. My name, still weather. Time, still sideways. Gravity returned. Shame did not. She laughed like cinnamon, bit velvet into stars, and folded moons from the breath I’d left behind. I paid her in moons. Waxed. Waned. And waited for the wind to spend them.

31

First frost riming the landscape A white dawn Announced by the crow's harsh call The waning moon hanging In a cloudless sky As the rising sun's rays Twinkle on the frosted fields.

0

Mar 17, 2025

Mar 17, 2025 at 2:46 PM UTC

rose-hopkins

First frost

First frost riming the landscape A white dawn Announced by the crow's harsh call The waning moon hanging In a cloudless sky As the rising sun's rays Twinkle on the frosted fields.

8

I've felt vulnerable fully clothed and confident when confidence is all I have on- Vulnerability is more than being bare for someone to see it all. It is shedding the coat of bitterness because it ignited fires in my heart that sought to burn me down with it. It is unbraiding the strands of hair coiled into a tight braid of rigidity, of being so tense and stern. It is peeling off the shirt of past hurt, one that threatens to shrink tighter every time I wash it with my tears. It is untying the shoelaces that bound me to a path I didn't foresee, a path I cannot forge and a path that does not lead me anywhere but where I have already been. It is sliding out of a sheath of selfishness, one that clothes me in want and doesn't serve anything I need. It is ********** all of my preconceived notions of how to live, why people hurt and why I still do regardless of the joys I have seen. It is stripping myself bare of façades and painted faces, the kind that insist I am fine when I am so far from it and closer to the dark than ever before. It is opening my mouth to cry and to ask for help even when I am blind to the hands reaching for me. It is admitting that I struggle to get a grip and some days I can only grip myself into a hug and hope for more. Vulnerability is more than being skin and bone exposed- it is seeing past that with the naked eye.

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rose-hopkins

Mar 13, 2025

Mar 13, 2025 at 4:28 AM UTC

Mgpe

Vulnerable

I've felt vulnerable fully clothed and confident when confidence is all I have on- Vulnerability is more than being bare for someone to see it all. It is shedding the coat of bitterness because it ignited fires in my heart that sought to burn me down with it. It is unbraiding the strands of hair coiled into a tight braid of rigidity, of being so tense and stern. It is peeling off the shirt of past hurt, one that threatens to shrink tighter every time I wash it with my tears. It is untying the shoelaces that bound me to a path I didn't foresee, a path I cannot forge and a path that does not lead me anywhere but where I have already been. It is sliding out of a sheath of selfishness, one that clothes me in want and doesn't serve anything I need. It is ********** all of my preconceived notions of how to live, why people hurt and why I still do regardless of the joys I have seen. It is stripping myself bare of façades and painted faces, the kind that insist I am fine when I am so far from it and closer to the dark than ever before. It is opening my mouth to cry and to ask for help even when I am blind to the hands reaching for me. It is admitting that I struggle to get a grip and some days I can only grip myself into a hug and hope for more. Vulnerability is more than being skin and bone exposed- it is seeing past that with the naked eye.

9

This is not a common era The trouble is threefold Drinking from an empty glass Opening the door to strangers Walking along these jagged cliffs If you tolerate this Your children will be next

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rose-hopkins

Mar 12, 2025

Mar 12, 2025 at 3:19 AM UTC

Carlo-C-Gomez

Here Comes Treble

This is not a common era The trouble is threefold Drinking from an empty glass Opening the door to strangers Walking along these jagged cliffs If you tolerate this Your children will be next

7

We are pack animals A tribal people The human race Beyond retrieval All we ever need Is to be accepted Wanted , loved And not rejected.

0

Mar 11, 2025

Mar 11, 2025 at 10:22 AM UTC

rose-hopkins

Integration v discrimination

We are pack animals A tribal people The human race Beyond retrieval All we ever need Is to be accepted Wanted , loved And not rejected.

8

Don't see yourself as the nuisance Before the pain Or see yourself as the cloud Before the rain. Instead See yourself as the credit Before the prize And the love that shines from your children's eyes.

0

Mar 10, 2025

Mar 10, 2025 at 10:10 AM UTC

rose-hopkins

See yourself

Don't see yourself as the nuisance Before the pain Or see yourself as the cloud Before the rain. Instead See yourself as the credit Before the prize And the love that shines from your children's eyes.

9