Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lizzie Bevis May 19
Inside my fragile mind,
thoughts swirl like a whirlwind,
tumbling and crashing
as flashbacks build stress and fear,
and I am not strong enough,
as I plead for the old me again.

Yet I pause,
searching for the silence,
as I challenge my senses.
I let it all settle,
like dust finding rest
on an old sunlit
cobwebbed windowsill.

It takes patience
like pulling tangled linen
from messy cupboards,
slowly unravelling and refolding
all of the trauma and pain,
arranging them carefully
back onto their shelves again.

Processing 
one
thought
at
a
time.

What if this trauma reveals
no flaws, but stories
with each courageous step forward
on this discovery journey,
each moment a lesson,
blunting the sharp edges
of my harsh self-judgment.

A kind hand reaches out
talking and listening
as the healing cognitive shifts begin,
and the storm clouds slowly part,
revealing warm sunlight,
teaching me at last
that it is okay to feel.

Step by step,
we build upon the foundations
of the past and future,
finding anchors,
to ground my scattered thoughts,
as I learn to breathe easy again.

From my traumatic moments,
hope emerges from an open book
as my life turns a page,
revealing a fresh chapter
and a newfound strength
as my vulnerability now stands
free and fiercely proud.

We gather up
the scattered pieces,
and walls crumble down,
as an understanding dawns.
Life's chaos grows quieter
when faced with the truth,
and in each moment I found resilience
to this part of my challenged life.

Together,
We rode through the storm
to find the calm within its eye,
where clarity begins,
the heart and mind unite
and I finally realise
that we are all worthy
of finding peace.

©️Lizzie Bevis
Nev Apr 18
I'm always the lesson,
never the praise.
Told to be better
in quiet ways.

The words aren't cruel,
but they still land rough-
measured and weighed,
never enough.

It's in the looks
the way they compare,
like I'm just less
for even being there.

I carry the blame
for things I don't do,
swallow the doubt
until it feels true.

They don't see the cracks,
the ones they made-
all for the sake
of keeping one name safe.

I shouldn't have to earn
what should be mine-
a place, a voice,
a moment in time.

But I keep the peace,
stay small, stay still,
hoping they'll notice
I'm breaking at will.
This one is more personal. I finally found out how to put the way I feel into words. What I'll say is favoritism *****; knowing you aren't enough and the people making that known being your own blood is what hurts the most. So thank you to poetry, for helping me finally release this pain and making room for some good again.
Joan Zaruba Mar 4
A faded feather shed upon the ground
trod underfoot,
soiled and bent,
Is still a feather

Though it no longer shines with colors bold,
no longer soars,
caressing the clouds
though it lays there
abandoned
in the dirt,
dreaming of sky

A still feather is a feather still
bent and broken
a feather still
Flightless and forgotten
a feather still

I am a feather


© 2025 Joan Zaruba. All rights reserved.
Em MacKenzie Dec 2024
The year I almost drowned
was the year I learned to swim.
I was weighed down pound by pound
and things were looking grim.
My arms flailing; began to tire
and my mouth was tasting salt,
just days ago I warmed myself by fire
and by lying on the asphalt.

Shadow stalks and kicking rocks;
irrelevant if your shoes are tied.
Checking locks and kicking rocks
get carried away by the tide.

The year I almost drowned
was the year I learned to swim.
I could view the sandy ground,
though the image was quite dim.
My head; just barely above the water
and desperately I was gasping for air,
and I could swear it was getting hotter
but the temperature was actually fair.

I’ve got currents and tides
within my mind.
And when I finally rip out my insides;
more water and waves you’ll find.

The year I almost drowned
was the year I learned to swim.
While being tossed and pushed around
I discovered I had every limb.
I could see a shoreline in the distance
it’s beaches with perfect white sand.
It seemed within an instance
I started treading steadily with each hand.
Haley Harrison Nov 2024
Let me make my own mistakes,
and let me learn from them.
As ice freezes over lakes,
I will harden like a gem.
.
I don't regret leaving my heart out
to get scorched, crack in the cold;
a lesson needed to sow doubt,
to make caution take a hold.
.
I've learned, I've grown
through the pains;
I am now more my own,
experience in my veins.
.
And now I don't even feel the break:
like a computer gone offline;
a reboot needed just to make
this new update truly mine.
.
I will survive, I always do -
my shipwrecks an eternal theme -
and I'll re-surface, start anew,
with new stitching along the seam.
.
05.08.2024.
(for me)
Lizzie Bevis Oct 2024
Hurt lingered here,
deep within my heart,
as loyalty and misery
Tore me apart.
Disappointment ate away,
Devouring my every thought,
As angry words replayed over
after the battles we fought.

My mind was forever searching
and looking for clues,
hoping to find the source
Of the anguish in you.
Time is unforgiving,
But I will forgive you,
I'll never forget the torment,
You put me through.

My scars tell their stories,
Some you may never see,
The pain is not easily forgotten
at least not by me.
But, I am fortunate and free,
I've finally moved on.
Peace is now with me,
As I emerge brave and strong.

©️Lizzie Bevis
To leave is a brave thing to do.
rstlss Mar 2024
Everyday is an uphill *****
—a vertical some days
—always picking up the slack;
picking up the pace.
Desperate, delusional,
acts of disgrace,
but how do you ask for forgiveness
with a struggling face?

I wish it were easier
living, that is;
I force life to be easier;
surviving, it is.

How do you tell people
you're suffocating,
when the air on the *****
is dissipating?
i am not fine for the past months
Lily Priest Nov 2023
Every miniscule molecule
I make mine
Meanders from,
Mightily moving mountains,
To meekly maintaining mounds.
From harmlessly heeding horizons,
To heroically holding off hounds.
Next page