Everyday i died.
Everyday i doubted
Everyday i felt insane
Everyday i lived in fear
Everyday i hated myself
Everyday i didnt eat... sometimes.
Everyday i bent to your will
Everyday i suffered in silence
Everyday i hated you
Everyday i couldnt take it
Everyday i thought of running
Everyday i dreamed of what it could be like
Everyday i lost my trust in everyone
Everyday no one could understand
Everyday i lost myself
Everyday i crumbled
Everyday i felt ashamed
Everyday i couldnt recognize myself anymore

BUT NOW...

Everyday i get a little stronger,
Everyday i get a little braver,
Everyday i hurt a little less,
Everyday i feel a bit more free,
Everyday i trust a bit more,
Everyday i feel a little wiser,
Everyday you control me less and less,
Everyday im a little happier,
Everyday i find myself
Everyday i feel proud
Everyday i follow my heart
Everyday i find a bit more of myself
Everyday i put back pieces you stole
Everyday i heal...
Everyday i grow...
Everyday i am reborn...
Everyday i am more me than i was before
Everyday i am thankful for what ive survived
Everyday i am alive...
Everyday i am living in spite of you.

Is there anything more wonderful
Then being part of the poet’s corner?
Lucky am I to be a poetry lover!
A romance novelist used poetry to ponder
A story that changes and transforms
One’s heart.  Is there anything more wonderful?
Joining a poetry site, I blundered
My way to writing a poem, oh what torture!
But lucky am I to be a poetry lover.
Many offered their support, allowing me to discover
My path and slowly my writing became stronger.
Is there anything more wonderful?
So many inspired awe and wonder,
Giving me strength to claim my own corner,
Justifying my becoming a poetry lover.
To those who offered encouragement so tender
I offer my thanks and give honor.
Is there anything more wonderful
Than becoming a poetry lover?*

Kelly Rose
December 29, 2015

On the morning he left
before he took that half a turn into the street
he said to her that strength is measured
not in the unyielding clasp
but in all set free

Mindful of her fragility
he knew she drew from a deep well
her life appearing strong
yet his advise could be wrong

and yet she could not dwell
in any words he left with her;
a keepsake
a token promising
he'd count the steps he took upon return

for a promise made when one is leaving
is hard to believe
as we've all heard them before
no words ever spoken nor written
can touch trust at this level
until his return has come to fruition
and he comes back home

and so she followed his steps
as far as their sound would take her
setting him free
so their embrace could live
unbroken, eternally

A collaboration with Mark Cleavenger. Thank you for the honor Mark.

Life is managed not cured