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I think I had a thought once,
not sure where it went

I think I had a choice,
before their automatic consent

I think I had a body,
until it was covered under a glass ceiling of intersectionality,
disguised as empowerment & healing

I think I had ambitions,
but I wasn't allowed to share them f r e e l y

I think I had a story,
which included originality, not mass produced 'bots

I think I think a lot,
it's okay though, only when it helps with the plot

I think I had a life,
built on standards of equality, for all to prevail

I think I was The Foreman,
who settled on being the female
thoughts from a feminine point of view
Taylor Allyn Mar 18
I have died a thousand times.


In the silence of rooms where I learned to make myself smaller.
In the hands of men who only held me in the dark.
In the mirror, where I spent years trying to love something I was taught to hate.


I have buried myself in the spaces between other people’s comfort.
Lowered my voice so they wouldn’t flinch.
Made my body easy to leave so no one had to carry the weight of me.


I have been a funeral no one attended.


And yet—
I wake up.
Every day, I wake up.


Breathe in. Breathe out.
Move through a world that never made space for me,
but take up space anyway.


I am not supposed to be here.
I was supposed to break,
supposed to fold,
supposed to be a name they only whispered in past tense.


But here I am.
A mouth that still speaks.
A body that still moves.
A breath that still fills the room.


I have died a thousand times.
And still—


I am here.


And ain’t that something?
Audacity, Still Here, Alive, Weight
silvervi Mar 15
Experiences can be beautiful, fun, uncomfortable, awkward and embarrassing at the same time.
It's not black or white and that's what life is - it's a mix of many colours.
Bekah Halle Mar 13
Power of Remembering

A brisk pace

Walking to work,
I was struck, with the memory:
the time when I could not walk...
After a stroke, during brain surgery, and a 40-day coma…
My step indeed picked up to a brisk pace,
and a smile came upon my face.


Thankful.
Lent is the practice of sacrifice (going without) and remembrance. I am giving up chocolate this year and will try to write a poem in my new “Lent Collection” each day. Enjoy!
Antonia Mar 11
each second
each word
each thought
all feelings
they’re earned!

better start seeing life for the blessing it is

or in sorrow,
forever you’ll live.

resentful, remorseful
regret
remove all these Rs
you are your own threat.

start from love
and finish right back

the circle of life,
love always comes back.
Have the courage to live in love, not fear.
I promise it’s worth it!
Ahlam Feb 12
when sadness is a lesson
so you learn and accept
                                                           
and when happiness is a blessing
stuffing a radiant energy within

when all you have is nostalgia
you become glad , wishing you could have it back

when you love
you worship something other than god

and when your heart aches
echoes of the past linger in all its chambers  

a core full of people
full of memories
full of life
this feeling of finiteness
in the past couple of days,
savouring the smallest details
grateful for every second.
longing to live life with the short amount of time we have.
Archer Feb 1
Moonlight shone through the windows
and onto the floor in long,
bright
blue
rectangles.
The shadows from the leaves in the trees swayed back and forth like they were
dancing with the cold
November
night
wind.
The moon was their spotlight, my front yard was their stage
and they danced
with
no
music.
The trees savoured every moment with the wind, for they were each other’s lives,
and could not dance
without
the
other.
The trees cried when the wind was not there, and the wind came to wipe its tears,
and then
they
danced
again.
Reece Jan 20
Four distinct seasons,
Each with their own beauty,
Ambiance, weather, and color,
All for us to enjoy.

I must admit,
Winter’s my favorite.
I like feeling cold,
Not freezing cold,
But cold enough so that when you encompass yourself with blankets,
You feel the comforting warmth of home.
I love the look of the planet,
Underneath a blanket of snow,
The smoothness of the white,
Prettier at night.
The snow as it falls,
Gorgeous as well,
Everywhere you look,
A painting could be painted,
And the beauty would be upheld.
Snowmen on the lawns,
The festive season,
What’s not to love?
Hot chocolate by a fire,
Tales of reindeer flying high in the sky,
All these reasons are why,
Winter’s my favorite.

Followed close behind in both timing and rank,
Springtime.
The weather looks nicer,
The flowers bloom once more,
The rain may seem inconvenient,
But it’s something to be thankful for.
The pitter-patter on my window at night,
Makes me feel,
For a moment,
That everything’s alright.
Don’t forget the flowers,
Of many shades of colors,
How I look forward,
To when the Indian Paintbrushes grow.
Sunflowers,
Irises,
Roses,
Daisies,
And all the others,
Makes the season more special,
Nature’s a wondrous thing.

Now comes the one I least adore,
But still, I know,
It has its strengths.
Summertime,
Is my least favorite.
I’ve never liked the heat,
Especially when it exceeds a hundred degrees,
That’s a bit excessive to me.
It’s the time,
To hit the beach,
To be at peace,
I can practically hear the waves.
Vacations typically wait till this time of year.
Fireworks,
In America,
The booms,
Something to behold.
The weather,
While not ideal for me,
Is still wondrous to see.
Maybe in my later years,
I’ll appreciate the beauty of summer.

Last but not least,
Fall or autumn is third on the list.
Things cool down,
Leaves fall down,
From their trees.
Reds,
Oranges,
Yellows,
And browns,
Litter the grown,
Entrancing the eyes.
They’re something to see,
But not worth to speed.
The crunch beneath your feet,
The air blows deep through the trees.
Halloween,
And the Thanksgiving feast.
Bliss at the finest degree.



The Earth isn’t the only thing,
That goes through seasons,
Life does the same.
Some seasons are dark,
Without a light in sight,
But it’s there,
It’s always there.
Other seasons a filled with joy,
Take those in,
Enjoy the moment,
Because for better or worse,
Like the seasons of the Earth,
It always comes to pass.
silvervi Jan 15
Life is here now, I can breath.
This is more than enough.
Let's appreciate the "small" things. Honestly though, let's be grateful for life itself. What an incredible journey! What a chance! What a wonder it is.
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