Mallory 46m

I want to cultivate my being so bad,
Exponentially expand.
I want to maintain this cultivation,
And refrain from all the circumstances that make me sad.
I want to stand taller than anyone else thinks I can.
My resilience is infinite,
A uniqueness,
Like the swirls in your fingerprints and all the grains of sand.
My sadness is a part of me,
I don't owe an explanation,
When I need to be.
And when they don't understand,
I will know no one can, like I can.
No one will embrace my heart,
With tender hands, Like I can.
I am my own, standing loud,
barely breathing a word.
I am my own, and any defeat I face
is not my death; but my birth.

mk 1d

i never quite grew
out of my terrible twos

The word potential is one of self sabotage.
It is dedicated to those unable to their dream to work.
Potential is a word given to the indicated who are poised to have talent but no drive, ambition but no discipline.
Potential is given the abundant group of people who are to breathe but never live life.
A word that made to create your grave before you've died.
I haven't figured out how to stay away from the trap.
I will do more then breathe.

Yesterday forced us to face flaw;
today, we wipe away all imperfection;
tomorrow begs emotion of machines.

       We'd have grown to love, only yesterday,
       now we craft the thought
       from silicone and minimize it on our phones.

Peace woven in polyester--itching North Korea.
Nike or Adidas?
I fear for love, the dying feeling, tomorrow.


If love can heal
And pain can kill

What will it take to get over you

Stroke a myth and kiss a legend
Lose my strain in a cool, still pool
Where ripple echoes with the music
of memories
The linnet bird flies, no longer a fool
chained by doubt and crippled by fear
I've finally found my trill
That outshines the sun and
rattles the stars
I have a fire to fill

Poem I wrote in my journal. Been such a long day, too.
Got my overall result from uni, got my coursework and
now to find my way.

Face not the version of yourself
That begs you to melt into the molds
of inactivity and content
Face not the man in the mirror
who beckons you
"Time is enough, time will let be"

These are faces of you
That I clearly bear too
And these versions of me tell
Of a clear blue well
Of reflections with a face
And versions I need to chase

The same man of fires blazing
The same man of passions razing
Weaknesses and twin demons
That if I let be, will raise legions
Of more neglections of me
Those I do not wish to ever see

Strip the shell that covers the strength
Time is a length well traveled, see
We seem we're baffled by how much we try
But if you look closely at you and you
It might be clear and finally true
The timely definition
Of I

"I will write my deliverance"
Sha Sep 18

I opened my box,
Turned the knob,
Hand and feet on position
And danced to the music.

Sometimes, the music is joyous.
Sometimes, it is melancholic.

I am waiting for the day
When I don't have to turn the knob
To hear music.

And I am waiting for the day
I finally outgrow my enclosure.

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