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Recovery is supposed to be
synonymous with Renewal.
Rising from the ashes,
old flames re-lit,
persona rediscovered.
But what do you do
when there’s nothing to Recover,
the Before
up in flames and gone with smoke.
How do you start over
when you don’t know where to start
when you don’t know who you are
when you don’t want to be an also
a prop to someone else’s story
while yours is left unpenned
And within just a moment,
you are not Less,
but Different -
a shift that feels nothing but Empty,
a tear in the fabric of your soul
ripped by the slamming door;
a gap just wide enough
for salty tears to sting a freshly broken heart;
a laceration just deep enough
for time alone to heal.
Introspection and reflection
deftly weaving silken threads
to bring renewal and resilience
to a mending soul that is now stronger than before.
Filling the Empty
with purpose
instead of validation.
Not destroying the Before,
accepting the damage,
rising from the ashes not to relight but to renew,
beginning unhindered by the past -
letting sunlight stream in
through stained glass windows
formed as you made your peace
with your broken pieces,
igniting beauty from destruction -
a fire all your own.
What's the one thing you could talk about without rest?

Who's the one person that made talking effortless?

Where is the one that changed you for the better,

where is the one that made you your best?

When did it all occur, was it recently, or more in the past?

Is this one something or someone you wish you could have back?

People aren't things,
and also, they aren't chances.
They're the same solemnness
between the sonder and the glances.
We all have our thing and some of us may have more.
But I prefer the passions of the focused
for whom hearts with pulse on sleeve are wore.
not being rhetorical
I may not believe in *** but i know I have a destiny, a purpose
And i may not see that purpose, i may never learn my purpose, but by the time i leave this earth i may not believe that purpose even exists

You may not know how much i appreciate being able to meet you, to talk to you, to look at you
You may not be in my life for as long as i hope
I may not seem to be one to need others to cope but i’m truly weaker than most,
You may not believe those words, but you should know i live those words
This is my first post here please feel free to give advice
Weathered and ragged and flaking away,
Ageless, majestic, for day after day,
Haven for robins and the honeybee,
This is the bark of an old hollow tree.

A suit of cracked armor letting rain in,
Lifeless and cold, hardened like calloused skin,
Home and shelter where squirrels can flee,
This is the bark of an old hollow tree.

Vestigial barrier to bygone rings,
Same as it’s been, now for so many springs,
All that is left of its great pedigree,
This is the bark of an old hollow tree.

A trunk withered down and dead from inside,
That empty space, where owls now reside,
Inside those walls there’s still reason to be,
This is the bark of an old hollow tree.
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
Buy "Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life" at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
Arcassin B Oct 11
By Arcassin Burnham

What do you truly inspire,
buildings caught on fire,
looking for a purpose in this life but it'll just expire,
sitting here in all 50 states that's corrupted and dire,
telling you these products will help you , they're a bunch of liars,
other countries dying for the truth and hope that they've lost,
encountering villains with no faces , do they have a boss?
if your black , they have plans for you to die and get tossed,
try to sway the weak and break the strong , pray you don't get soft.

Eric Babsy Oct 10
Sending all signals they possess the soul
Feel a jolt from clouds of lightning

This is all true I know
They have taken my soul

Replaced by something new
Just to get a new aspect view

Free the eternal soul within me
Not a question of why or what is with this

Songs I sing can not be replaced
The thought of that can not be erased

Things these days have no means to an end
I hope that someday there will be a another message I can send

Feeling the pressure I release a gift that will surface
Hoping someday something new will serve it’s purpose

They all confused me
Confounded because my talent is not lazy

Help me survive where I want to be
Because they all diluted me
Aditya Oct 6
I closed my eyes,
a faith so blind,
a voodoo doll to exercise,
scarred by a spell,
who am I? do remind
Star BG Oct 6
Lying in bed, I shift my vehicle
into new day. A day that is blessed
by rising sun.

Feet become wheels, spinning in dance gracefully.
Skin is cleansed in carwash-like shower
that tickles to birth smile.

Moments captured in suns rays vibrate,
as gyrating beams flicker
and ******* cells.

Air infused intentions
rise in thoughts expanding
to merge with gas-like breath.

Blessings surface, as guidance
from navigational system of heart
purrs, gracefully.
Brum, ***! echoes,
merging with days landscape,
as dance commences.

Brum, ***! fills air
as compassion toward others
becomes goal.
In instant, hands folded
on steering wheel of prayer
anchor, as gratitude fills thoughts.

As wind pervades senses
and birds sing on welcome mat
of ears woven by hair.

The day has begun in celebration,
while cruse controlled movements
connect to surroundings.

While alignment is made
to source as freedom bell rings
inside waking hours.

I’m blessed, ready to shift gears
inside unlimited possibilities
on highway of life.

Blessed to rondevu with light  
for peace, while fuel of love energies
congeal with purpose.

Purpose to make the best
of the gift of life given
in a vehicle anointed by ***.
Daisy Marrow Oct 6
Women crave for a rebirth
and I am no exception.
I crave to hear a choir and feel the water rush over me,
leaving me with a sense of purpose and a new perspective.
I want to forget my name.
I want to see my life in a new light.
I feel it's time for me to leave my body and leave my past.
It's time for me to find my mind
because I know that it must get better than this.

So let me grow,
I believe that it does get better than this.
I have seen many women learn how to scream their own name,
over and over and over and over again.
Howling into the clouds and radiate like the sun,
and I start to wonder when my time will come.
However, I know I must learn to grow steady like the harvest
because I know rebirth is not a path that we can rush down
this life is not what it seems
we are nothing but flesh and blood
poets and writers and storytellers
liars and cheats and frauds
pick and choose your destiny
redefine your purpose
you are more than you know
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