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silvervi Oct 3
I keep judging people based on how they look. Including myself.

It's not me. It's a pattern in my brain.
This is for awareness reasons. I want to change what has been my "normal thinking". I have not consciously chosen to perceive the world in this way. I think I miss out on many things by having such a superficial perspective. I need to dig deeper why I am doing this and how it might be good for self-preservation. Feel free to confess in the comments if you're doing the same thing.
My grandad used to buy
Wall’s vanilla ice cream and
Robinson’s orange squash for me
When I’d visit him as a child.

For the longest time, food of any kind
Was just food and nothing
Was a treat or
Had to be earned.

Now I yearn for a lackadaisical meal,
For squash and ice cream,
For food to be food and it all to be good.
For when calculators were used in maths lessons and not to pinpoint the exact moment I overstep and
My figure becomes
Mathematically incorrect.

I want to re-learn how to exercise for fun and not punishment,
How to be happy and grateful for my fuel and nourishment.
Skinny doesn’t feel or taste very nice at all
Lemon Black Oct 1
The grace of the divine speaks itself into existence
As we wash our clothes, mourn the past, and dine,
As we close our eyes and listen.

The truth finds its thereabouts
And reminds itself again
That nothing is meant to last—
The restless mind disrupts.
Peace and harmony constantly surround us. Occasionally, we catch a glimpse of this subtle truth—that we are part of it. Yet, as we approach this realization, the truth itself seems to reveal the wavy, impermanent fabric of existence. That’s when the mind interferes, as the moment was always meant to pass. We're left with a feeling of disruption and a longing to return, but this very desire pulls us further from the truth.
Sam Harty Sep 22
I will never know what
it feels like to be
a proud black woman.
   >>>BUT<<<
I will never
pretend like I do.
I have lived
62 years
In this country
and I have seen
Racism,
******,
And
Genocide
And it breaks
my heart and makes me
feel sick inside.

I will never know what
it feels like to be
a proud black woman.
who's turned down for a job
because of the color
of their skin.
But there are roughly
1.3 billion people
in the world who do.
I can see there's
something wrong
with that, can you?

I will never know what
It feels like to be
a proud black woman.
accused of breaking the law
just for Walking
down the street at night
Or have everything
in my life
be a constant struggle
and fight.

No, I will never know.
But I'll tell you
Right here and now,
I will never let the
color of someone's skin
Lead me to prejudge
what they are like
---->within<-----
Smile to all of them to make everyone's day better
But then your mouth starts to hurt
but you keep on smiling
because who am I if I don't advert—
my eyes from everything, they're all lying
It's 11 at night, I want to sleep
but sweat trickles down my neck as I weep
The labels are crushing me telling me what to be
I just want to recognize myself in the mirror and say "Hey! That's me!"
I am tired of being the stupid and dumb friend
but if I'm not, I might not be able to mend
Mend the souls of those who cried when nights were stormy
And I know someone would do the same for me
but it feels selfish if I don't say sorry.
GUYS I SWEAR I'M LESS EMO NOW. IK THIS IS NOT A GOOD POEM I WROTE IT ALMOST A YEAR AGO <\33 I'M JUST DOCUMENTING ALL MY POEMS ON HERE FOR MY SILLY LITTLE GOODREADS FOLLOWERS
The bright light reflects
from my tear filled eyes
With countless vents
It is time to say goodbye
And I don’t reach out

My identity is a circus act
For those who find it amusing
I am not to overreact
Yet I am still self accusing
And I don’t reach out

I have to put up with more
Than anyone else
I have more to endure
In a world of parallels.
And I don’t reach out

I’m the human embodiment of Atlas
Holding up everything unfurled
But the sky isn’t just mine, alas
Not everyone is rivaled
And I reach out
Wrote this last academic school year, I was tired of being picked on for being trans *****
Saanvi Sep 17
I have been to the depths of madness,
Yet I haven't lost my sanity.
I cling onto it like a mother
clings to her child's dead body.
I have seen my worst selves resurrect and being crucified
Under the weight of all my sins.
Yet, I have never willingly committed a crime.
Like the wooden dock at a port that holds all ships
from sinking to the wrath of the ocean currents,
I have harboured my evil
deep within me
With great power and diligence.
It's a quiet storm raging inside me.
My insanity threatens to spill out
to the edges of my constraints,
blurring the sight of blood on my hands.
For a tiny moment, my smile changed
giving way to something sinister lurking
in my soul.
And then it was gone like a fleeting wind
moving swiftly to a distant land.
But the wind has seen my self inflicted wounds,
She whispers the truth, she knows me truly that
I am a bigger omen than the crows and the raven.
Two tides clash fighting for control.
Day and night juxtaposed in a singular skin.
All hell is beginning to break loose.
The more I try to mend myself,
the harder the waves rock my ship.
The more I try to breathe,
the more the air begins to drown me.
In order to silence my cries,
it pushes me to a gentle hush.
Silence has never been this loud.
My insanity has never been this dangerous.
For madness and passions intertwined.
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