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You Talk, i listen.
That’s the way this works.

You ramble and You monologue,
while i keep my lips pursed.

i wonder if You’ll notice,
i haven’t said a word..

But you simply entertain Yourself,
and i remain unheard.
Being an introvert is tricky. There's been a couple times I've just stopped talking to see how long people would talk to themselves... spoiler alert---it's a long time.
behold the silent gift
to feel any lone soul roar
deeper than before
struggles of an empath in an ever decaying world
 Jun 28 Pippa Christie
lizie
mom says
i’m the best person she knows.
i smile.
i’m good at pretending.

she says i’m kind,
but i know when it’s a performance.
she says i’m gifted,
but it feels like a trick
i’m barely pulling off.

my sax squeaks,
my test scores blur,
my muscles ache in the water.
and still she calls it talent.

i nod along,
quiet and guilty.

if i’m so good,
why do i always
feel like a lie?
What is the value of a life
Of a husband or a wife 
Of a daughter or a son.

Do these labels give value to one,
More so over the other?

Is a wife less valuable than a mother,
A father more valuable than a son?

Does value rise or fall
as one becomes another?

Surely every life can't be worth the same!
Can it?

 I wonder.
Is a peasants life,
of less value than a kings!

Or does Status, Creed, Race, or Color,
truly, not mean a **** thing?

It is true that I would place my
wife, my son, and my brothers
life over that of another.

But that value is given to them only by me.
No life is worth more
than any other in reality.

Yet until we can open
our hearts and minds to see.

The true value of life will never be!
Debuted this one at our poetry reading last night
On dark days like these
When dreams seem out of your reach
Stretch a little more.
I don’t thirst for the sun when it’s gone

When the moon’s hue is shining above
The blue light is blinding my eyes  
It’s gentle when burning my skin
It’s warm for the coldness inside

The darkness fits me like a glove
It smoothly cuts all of my ties
It’s tenderly hiding my sins
I blindly made it my own guide

It’s buffering all of my screams
I cannot recall brighter times
As far as I see in my dreams
The sun has been out of the skies
Someone I loved once gave to me
A box of night, no lock, no key.
I held it close with trembling hands
Not knowing then its strange demands.

It whispered cold, it swallowed light
It taught me silence, sleepless nights.
I cursed its weight, I grieved its cost
A symbol of the love I’d lost.

But seasons turned, as seasons do
And cracks let in a deeper truth.
Within that dark, a seed was sown
A strength I never would have known.

Now looking back, I see it clear
The gift was pain, the gift was fear.
But in its heart, a truth would lift
That even sorrow hides a gift.
A gift wrapped in sorrow, this poem reflects how pain can quietly grow into strength. What begins as heartbreak slowly reveals itself as an unexpected blessing in disguise.
I didn’t want to fall apart mid-sentence,
So I said less and asked more questions.
Tuned out love songs, skipped our street —
I made avoiding you look complete.

I smile and nod when your name is mentioned,
As if it doesn't pull me out of the conversation
They throw it around casually, like it's not cutting right through —
I guess I never got to cry out about you.


© Copyright 2025 - Limes Carma
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