Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
We’re all called to be sheep
watching the staff
held by the shepherd
led by his laughs.

We’re all called to be sheep
some lambs, some rams
the flock flows together
bearing God’s brand.

We’re all called to be sheep
some to be shepherds
I’m a little of both
both serving and served.
Credit to Kevin, Stephan and the rest of the meet up at the Hub these past few weeks.
Jellyfish Mar 8
An apology isn't an explanation
It took me until now to get it.
It's upsetting how blind I am
to my own hypocrisy.

I've always wanted acceptance
and felt it was an essential need,
I'd break down each time
My parents couldn't apologize

They'd bring up excuse after excuse,
"It's my belief," "I'm not wrong," "this is my side..."
I hated them for this
But had my own way of doing the same thing.

Does this mean I'm the narcissist?
I'm the selfish, arrogant. awful person
I saw reflecting back at me
Through my family?

These thoughts creep up on me again and again,
They make me want to crawl under a rock,
Become dust and eventually drift away
at least in the wind I could change.
Jellyfish Mar 7
Shame encircles me
It's a cloudy fog that blurs everything,
Making it harder to see reality
I run inside my mind and hide in a dream.

I am a master at romanticizing!
I might even avoid you to interact with a fantasy,
My mind likes to protect me by airbushing things,
even though what I want is to live authentically

Every moment that I'm not present
Is a lost opportunity to change my mindset.
I'm trying to push past my negative thoughts
and ground myself but I feel so stupid.

I want an identity.
Jellyfish Mar 6
These are confessions I can never send.
Because they blatantly won't understand
and that is something I need to get,
They don't care for me enough to accept the ways they hurt me and say sorry.

They are hypocrites,
Because they want me to stay weary.
They want me to always let go and cry alone.
They don't care if around them I'm woeful.

Mom,
You always said I was in the wrong,
Cleaning and chores were our only "bond"
You never chose me unless you could brag.

Dad,
You broke my heart,
You'd catch me when I'd fall
But never stuck up for me in the end.  

Mom chooses to make me a villain,
All I wanted was her acceptance
but she sees me as a sinner who's selfish,
I should put my pain aside and pretend I'm good.

I will be left to wonder forever,
Why my pain doesn't matter
In comparison to my sister,
Why am I less accepted when I'm in pain?

Dad loves me because he sees himself in me.
I look like him, we share a hobby
but growing up I believed that was the only thing he loved about me
Because one moment he'd be there, but would runaway when I needed him most.

Alone, he would listen,
He would say he'd help me
But in front my mom he was different.
Suddenly, what we said in the car was insignificant.

I'm an adult who doesn't know her needs, wants, and likes
Because I spent my life trying to be accepted.
No one taught me how to accept myself,
Or how to know what I need or want.

If someone cared unconditionally,
I clinged to them.
I hoped they'd never leave,
because I never got that from my family.

Now I'm in therapy, crying in every session
That I'm hurt again because of them,
Or hurt by myself because
I don't know who I am.
cristina Feb 28
it's always you, sweet child
you take the burn
beautifully
let it mark your hands
and feast on your chest
watch the flames make you recognizable again
coax the deepest wails out of charred, tired lips
oh my, sweet child,
how you've grown to love the fire
inspired by oscar wilde's quote "a burnt child loves the fire"
Arlen Feb 24
Whenever I needed you
You faded away
When he insulted my identity
You let his words stay

You said you support me
Then why wouldn't you speak
Why when he said his venom
Were you suddenly meek?

I thought you were my friend
But now I'm letting you go
If you won't defend me
Then you're someone I no longer wish to know
Good riddance
aj king Feb 16
The other me stares at the true me from the corner of the room
she taunts me,
mocks me,
knowing that no matter where I go,
no matter what I do,
I will never rid of her.
The other me that was born in this world to replace the true me.
The other me that is sick, disgusting
and evil.
The other me that hates everyone around her,
and bares her teeth at anyone who gets close.

The other me that was born from the imaginations of others.
The other me is how they imagine me.
The other me, created from their bias, lies, and misperceptions.
Truth is of no matter here.
Only appearance, the way things look.

And the other me speaks and says,
You will walk this earth as nothing but a ghost,
a reflection of me.
You will try to fight me until your knuckles bleed
and your feet are sore.
But you know that you will never win.
You will die one day
and I will live forever.
Eyithen Feb 6
I'm not a poet but I write poetry
I'm not a songwriter but I write songs
I'm not an artist but I paint and do things of the artistic persuasion

I don't like to title things
They sound so official
And offically, I don't know what I am
Zywa Jan 26
The stories I tell

are too thick, too big, too wide --


You can see the lies.
Autobiographical book "Aftermath: On Marriage and Separation" ("Nasleep: over huwelijk en scheiding", 2012, Rachel Cusk), quoted by Merel Kamp in her article "Karma, lot of eigen schuld? Vertel het maar" ("Karma, fate or own fault? Just tell me"), in the NRC of January 16th, 2024

Collection "Appearances"
Next page