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I S A A C Jan 2022
I re-read the thoughts that used to plague me inside
it still hurts to see those words strung into those sentences
I can still feel the depression, I can still feel the internal divide
I can still feel like that, time to time
I re-read my trauma in a blackened ink
re-reading it making it sink in deeper, I can see clearer now
I hope that in a year I will feel the same way
about this maze, I'm in
about this cage, I'm in
maybe I will break the door down on my way back in
no longer tethered to the way that it is
instead reimagining what the day could've been
with a little more confidence, a little more trust
with a little more dominance and more sword thrusts
Falling as the stars fall,
Tethered to you.
We felt the forces of gravity and friction all too soon.
annh Oct 2020
My tongue is tethered to the words which have failed me.
‘There's really no such thing as the 'voiceless'. There are only the deliberately silenced, or the preferably unheard.’
- Arundhati Roy
Amanda N Skaggs Jun 2020
Tentical tricksters.
Tethered to buckets; draining.
Find my Well runs full.
Meysa May 2020
I am a writer and I've always known it.
Even when my feeble self-esteem conspired against my urge to pick up a pen.
I carried it around
like you carry relics
my pens.
Remained tethered to them.
I write now.
Perhaps because I am not a talker.
ryn Oct 2019
Cut me loose

     from these strings

          that bind.

So I might again

     exercise the freedom

          of mind.

mint Dec 2017
You are no longer tethered to me
To dreams that don’t belong to you
They are mine again

I am mine again
i want to be mine again maybe if i say it hard enough. ,,,
When it comes to our Christianity,
we’re to be like tethered lambs;
ready to die for our Faith, while
displaying grace, love and humility!

Though we’re surrounded by wolves,
our Great Shepherd can keep us safe
in green meadows, under His watchful
eye; it’s usually from ourselves…

that we require the most protection.
Nothing can separate us from Yahweh
and His right hand; therefore, let’s
offer genuine praise for Salvation

and the promises expressed within
His Word, including… Life over sin.
Inspired by:
Rom 8:35-39; Psa 63:8

Learn more about me and my poetry at: amazon (dot) com

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2017, All rights reserved.
Taylor O'Hara Feb 2016
I lumber sluggishly,
dragging the weight of my body.
Every pound is tethered to me,
I can’t escape the heaviness.

I am stuffed into clothes,
encased in figure-hugging fabric
that looks better on the hanger
than my rounded, fleshy torso.

The scale is an unlucky lottery ticket
displaying a number
that I will carry around
shamefully like a scarlet letter.

I count calories like beads on a rosary,
making sure I shrink to conformity
critical of every extra curve
because to love my size is a societal sin.

Airbrushed beauty queens
and slender starlets
wear their size 0 like a badge of honor
in the battlefront of glossy magazine covers.

I’m crushed with the weight of the world I inhabit
a place that teaches girls to be self-conscious
of each pound that sticks to their body
instead of teaching them to be confident in their own skin.

I’m tired of micromanaging each nutrient that touches my lips,
to achieve a slender frame that resists my big-***** body
self love is not a one-size-fits-all
and I will radically adore every ounce that is tethered to me.
-Taylor D. O'Hara
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