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Nobody 22h
I often talk to myself,
Asking, screaming y I am the way I am?
Questioning every prayer ever made and Thoughts ever occurred,
And then there comes a point,
Where the decision of ending it all seems the best,
But never found the courage to do so,
I hate myself for making me believe that I am worst thing other person can ever experience,
But I love myself for being able to survive through all of it alone,
I hate myself for all those bad decisions,
But I love myself for holding on to me when no one else did,
I hate myself for being reckless,
But I also love that part of me,
Because I know if I had never hated myself
I would have never known how much I love myself
I realized
That if in the end
I lose you
Or I lose myself
I know who wins
This time
I choose me.
I'm not sorry.
To the art that no longer could be seen
Shadowed away like a hermit,
left in cold air
“Where was the light I once received?”

To the pieces that came from precise
brush strokes
and left unfinished
As the artist turned an eye to another work on their easel

To the art that tells itself
that the worth you once held
has withered away as the gold shines no more.

Whatever abandonment,
Whatever shadows hides you,
Whatever flaw, mark, or unfinished points haunts you

All doesn’t degrade you
from the true nature
That is hidden in yourself
you are what is meant to be

Cai 4d
In here, You will find years and years worth of memories, some forgotten, some to be cherished eternally.

You will find laughters that I have gathered from my family, my friends and my own.

You will find a closet filled with my smiles in hangers,
Waiting to be used for whatever reason to be accomplished, either for genuinity or for pretend.

You will find this temporary storage for the times I have lost people,
Certain “someones” who I thought would remain in my life for a long time if not forever.

You will find shattered pieces of my heart, that made its way to my mind,
Remembering the hurt that I've experienced and endured, the lessons keeping me grounded but hurting me time and time again.

You will find a broken record that speaks only when it wants to,
My overthinking habit once again plays its opinions as loud as it can.

You will find denial and confusion dancing to the harmony of this broken record,
Like dancers on a stage wearing costumes, my denial and confusion too, disguises itself with trickery that maybe for once, I am finally accepting of what's happening to me and that for once, I am okay with it.  

You will find Lies, Lies, Lies,
Piling on top of each other like a stacking game, I have control but it is a force to be reckoned with,
Eventually it falls and when it does, I become more and more tired of trying to stack the pieces, but where is peace? In the midst of this chaos. I am once again scattered.

You will find an empty room,
But you may not enter here, not anymore,
I have created a barrier...well contributed at least, You may not see it but you can feel it.
This room can be whatever I want it to be, I can label it whatever I want, For it is an empty space in my heart.
You say “It looks absolutely stunning inside, why not let me in?” Please don’t be deceived. Stunning on the outside, yes, but that ironically empty room is filled with darkness inside,
So please No. I may not have known it then what I know now, That the only people I allowed access to this room were trespassers,
Every time I allowed them inside of this room, it only made me hurt.
They said they were builders, they told me they were going to build me up in the most healthy way, that they would teach me how to work on tools that would build my self-love, that they’ll be there whenever I fall apart.
But they lied, they were helping me build a barrier with tools from the pain they gave and the debris of the memories they left. They built up my ego, my pride.
Though, the final touch was my decision to complete this barrier. To shut it off from builders who weren’t worthy of me. I admit that I have forgotten that I am the architect of my body, my soul, myself as a whole. I realize now that I am my own builder, and there is not a single trespasser out there who will ever point me in different directions on how to love myself in my own structure ever again.  

Are you lost? Hold on!
Don't give it up before you even find it.
It's over there, Hope.

You found hope. There's something special about this one. Hope is my very own lighthouse keeper.But like the tides, it rises and falls. Hope is the best at its job. It is at the top of the lighthouse when I feel most ecstatic about something. But it descends slowly with each passing day. But if I am blessed, hope shines brightly enough through my eyes for someone to notice it. Hope is what guides me to itself, my lighthouse in a storm. It safely brings me to wander back home.
the epitome of me
Cai 4d
I am in love with a girl I don’t know,
Her face is all too familiar,
She stares back at me preciscely how I stare back at her,
She looks so tired, I look tired, We both do,
Maybe we’re unsure of each other but I will never tire of trying to get to know her,
She is my safe haven, she is home.
It’s going to be a strange journey just trying to get to the point where I know myself, but it’s all going to be worth it at the end.
What luck!
It’s like it was meant to be...
Look at you, you’re beautiful!

Who says one can’t mend a broken branch back up onto its rightful place?

With time,
I know you’ll sway up above
with the breeze of the wind,
in the heights you were destined to reach.

Seems as if the vitality of the poor thing was ****** straight out of it!
Look at it laying there in the soil;
It was just too weak to hold up its own weight,
the humility.

Don’t be sorry, All you need is strength.
Even the burliest of flora lack this.
Sure one can flaunt their heights,
but how deep do their roots flow?
That of which they formed their beginnings.

It’s not too bad of a branch,
one could root it.
It’s fight shouldn’t be over yet.
It must have been so heavy my darling,
was it truly your own creations that caused your demise? No?!
What caused you to quit?
Oh, The crows?
Those beautiful *******.
I’m sorry.

It’s covered in unblossomed beauties,
spurring with unnoticed complexities,
The tangled twigs make it look unkempt.

But what a waste of potential!
It would have made the tree so full.

You are enough, my beloved.
Can I keep you?
Nourish you with all I’ve got
Can I grow with you?
You’ll be your own tree.
You’ll see!  I’ll love you.
I see your potential!
for I see myself in you.
A poem about societal standards and failing to reach them
A brokenness is in us
Like a window
Never closed;
Drafty and meddlesome
When it rains,
But at least the sun
Always finds its way in
And least we remember
That we are more
Than our flaws -
We are also the light
That shines through them.
We are the house and the room and all the views, too
Sarah Flynn Apr 26
I keep telling everyone
how beautiful they are
and how much they matter
and how much I love them.

I spend all day motivating
the people around me.
I say such encouraging things,
and I mean every word,

but why can't I say
the same things to myself?
Sarah Flynn Apr 24
the other day, I went on a date.
it didn't go well at all.

he made some sexist comment
about how we wouldn't work if I
made more money than he did.

he told me that I'm smart,
but then added "for a woman."

I paid for myself, and then I left.

I guess that's not a good thing,
but I'm happy about it

because there was a time when
I wouldn't have realized that
I deserve better.
Sarah Flynn Apr 24
I used to want to **** myself,
so I did. I killed myself.
but not in the way that
you're thinking.

I killed the old me.

I murdered her bad habits
and tore apart her self-hatred.
I cut off her toxic "friends"
and blocked most of the
contacts in her old phone.
I kidnapped her and took
her on a relaxing vacation.
I taught her a lesson on how  
she deserved to be treated.
I gifted her with new clothes
and some therapy sessions
and a newfound sense
of long overdue self-respect.
I took every part of who she was
and every single detail that she
hated about herself, and I
squashed those feelings
with my bare hands.

I killed myself
without taking my own life

and a confident, loving,
unbelievably beautiful woman
rose from her ashes.
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