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 6d Traveler
Maria
Hello, whom I'll never meet,
Never hear, never forget,
Never loose and never find,
Never spot and never mind.

Hello, who'll turn up in my dreams,
Who'll never let me to taste the pain,
Who'll never betray and never lie,
Who'll never depart without goodbye.

I take leave of you, my unknown one,
My unsearchable and remarked for none,
My unnamed and mythic for last,
But so endlessly and sweetly loved.
Thank you for reading this poem! đź’–
I see myself in light and shadow.
I wipe away “always and never” like spilled water,
when the paradox bothers me.

I dissolved my soft boundaries,
in the name of unreal faith.
So many places, so many faces,
yet another beginning.
I keep rolling a big stone beside others.
The home I dreamt of now exists in my world.

I have found this time, this place
describing what cannot be translated:
a room for uncertainty,
farewells and returns.

I like to stand in the last row,
to see tired bodies.
I whisper good words,
to make the world a little better.
My sovereignty is a willingness
to be an echo,
the symbol, the myth,
or a meaningless element
in the chain of woven stories.

I love metaphors.
I find myself in a forest of ellipses,
that bring unbearable truths.

Tensions, contradictions,
awareness that everything that lights
brings unseen weight.

I am a part of stories,
to vanish into oblivion—
the done past.

The Earth still breathes with me,
or without me,
among blooming linden trees.
So, I want to stay,
to open my eyes,
and be with what remains.
To my Father
Like a hat,
That never had a head,
I lay upon a double bed.

A melancholy feeling of loss,
We are the riddles
That we came across.
Leaving the mirror feels like walking out of a shadow,
You try to piece together the fragments,
Accepting they will never mirror you again.
Some might say it’s your fault,
But it feels like walking through life
With a quiet strength where there once was emptiness.
Solitude.
Acceptance.
Self-compassion.
Growth.
Patienc­e.
Stillness.
Gratitude.
Understanding.
Trusting your own reflection.
No longer seeking validation,
No longer seeing yourself in others.
The image was false,
But the truth is clearer now,
The quiet voice that was always there,
Unshaken.
The grief fades—
Not gone, but transformed.

Strength.
Awareness.
A new beginning.
~for Ghost

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4968322/trauma-bond/

I wrote this in a style to mirror the framing of the original as closely as possible in solidarity for recounting my own experiences in a similar situation.


Broken Mirror explores the emotional journey of self-realization and healing following a toxic relationship. The poem reflects on the experience of losing a relationship that was built on validation rather than genuine connection, symbolized by the shattered mirror. The narrator, once dependent on external affirmation, finds themselves confronted with the stark emptiness left behind when that mirror is broken. As they struggle with feelings of solitude and grief, a quiet transformation begins, one that shifts from confusion to self-awareness.

Throughout the piece, the poem traces a movement from pain, isolation, and self-doubt toward acceptance, self-compassion, and ultimately empowerment. The narrative journey mirrors the internal process of healing, where the protagonist learns to stand on their own without relying on others for validation, embracing their true self amidst the fragments of the past. By the end of the poem, the narrator no longer seeks validation from external sources but instead discovers strength in their own reflection, marking the beginning of a new, more authentic chapter in their life.

The poet aims to capture the emotional complexity of a relationship defined by narcissistic dynamics, while also offering a hopeful perspective on self-reclamation. The poem invites readers to witness the pain of losing a validating reflection but also celebrates the transformative process of reclaiming one's true identity in the aftermath.
What makes life meaningful?

Understanding another's

pain and suffering–perhaps.
if I talk
it’s like I'm falling in the answer
everything I say is a quiet question to myself
sweaty hands
messy hair
baggy clothes
harmed lips
and
eyes looking down

yet I do poetry
but nothing helps my clarity
It does help,
but who on earth wants an answer
in rhymes and metaphors?

Tell me.
When it's my time to go
do I go alone ?
Who's to guide me ?
Who's there to open the gate ?
Who's there to say welcome home ?

The days have been torn from the book
There's nothing between the covers
but that dubious look

No hands of man can reach me
No clock can measure
No wind will chill
No thoughts remain
No tears left unwashed
by rain

I will go to the music
I will crave the light
I will not fear
Nor lose sight

Between the day and dark
I will choose to follow
If I lose the way
It will be my sorrow

So let my hand go
Whisper something
beneath your breath
I will see you there
beyond the grip of death
I held your love
with the fingers of my heart
I tattooed the promise
to all my tomorrows
across my back to be carried for eternity
. . . where are you now ?

It takes forever for distant stars to burn my lips
There is no mercy found on the floorboards that walk across my kiss
. . . where are they now ?

Remember how the needles of time stitched the nights together ?
How easy does the fabric of love become unentwined
. . .  remember ?
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