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#findingmyself
They aren’t only them anymore— they’re a place I return to without moving. A corridor of childhood laughter, where my steps were lighter, where someone’s presence felt like a small festival in my chest. I remember how I used to wait— not with patience, but with spark. Not for words, not for promises, just to see them and feel… enough. And maybe that’s what stayed. Not their voice, not their face as it is today— but the way I existed when they were around. Soft. Seen. Safe in a way I didn’t have to question. So I keep searching for them in every new face— but they arrive as strangers, while they… still feel like home. And now I understand— I’m not holding onto them, I’m holding onto a version of me that once knew how to shine without trying.
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Mar 20
Mar 20, 2026 at 10:55 AM UTC
Not Just Them
I'm the clown of my own circus, putting on a show so amazing...but its all a ruse. See I wear a mask, and a fake smile so bright, hiding the pain, the darkness of night. I'm juggling emotions, trying to stay afloat, but its hard to keep up, when you're feeling broke. It's all a jumbled mess that's unorganized, with no other performer but me. I'm the star of my own messed-up show, where the laughter's loud, but the tears still flow. I'm trying to be strong, to put a brave face, but its hard when the spotlight shines on my darkest place. I'm standing here a joker juggling doubts, fears, and anxiety too, trying to keep it together, but its exhausting to get through. Sometimes I feel like I'm losing control, like the circus is burning, and I'm losing my role. I'll keep on performing, with a grin so wide, hoping that someday, I'll find my true stride.
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Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 3:06 AM UTC
Clown of my own circus
Ink didn’t leave Even when I did. It stayed at the edge Of the table — untouched. It splashed onto one of my pages. I didn’t touch it, I didn’t notice — Pain arrives silently. That’s when I found myself Not staring at his eyes, Not between his arms, But In between the lines. The girl The ink had been waiting for — Finally between her fingers.
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Feb 11
Feb 11, 2026 at 1:16 PM UTC
Finding myself
Confident when alone I feel worthy, talented, well-behaved, and beautiful. I love each mole, curve, and aspect of my body. I am very well-versed in speaking languages and justifying my actions to self. I love music, and my own voice gives me peace and feels soulful. The Hesitant Me in Crowd I feel worthless, arrogant, and stubborn. I feel timid with my dark skin, weight, and not-so-attractive beauty. I feel I am bad at communicating and always at fault. My voice sounds bad, and I have a bad taste in music. Why? Why does everything seem different, as if I am carrying two faces of myself? Why do the people I feel as a sense of protection seem like the reason for my insecurity at times? Is it because my self-consciousness is making me doubt myself? What is the reason I am stuck between my confident self and hesitant, doubtful person? And in between these faces, I stand— half-lit, half-lost, searching for the whole.
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Nov 4, 2025
Nov 4, 2025 at 1:40 AM UTC
Two Faces of Me
I was made to be on top by God, But I became a tool that only nods. I see myself — I know I’m better, But I can’t control it… and that’s what’s bitter. I want to live as my true self, But became someone who hides from himself. I knew I needed a pause, a break, But they yelled, “Stop? For God's sake?” So I paused… and quietly broke. Now I can’t hit back — I’m sinking slow. In a lake of silence, deep and wide, I watch the real me — float outside.
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Jun 23, 2025
Jun 23, 2025 at 2:16 AM UTC
I Miss the Me I Never Got to Be
No time to carry the weight of their hate, No space to kindle bitterness within. Here I stand, wrapped in my wounds. No words to unravel who I am, No need to cleanse the stains of their judgment. Here I linger, lost in my confusion. No understanding do I seek from souls, No gaze of sympathy do I crave. It’s only me and the chaos I kept.
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Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 8:28 PM UTC
MY CHAOS ⟡˖࿔
I stand in the mirror, searching my face, for signs of change, for bits I’ve replaced. I’ve fought to grow, to mend and refine, to leave behind what was never mine. Each day I rise, steady and slow, trying to be someone I want you to know. I’ve come so far, I can see it clear— the battles won, the silenced fears. I’m proud of the scars that no one can see, proof of the strength that’s blooming in me. But still, there’s doubt, sharp and cruel, whispering rules I didn’t choose. Am I enough? Am I changing too late? Will love slip through at the hand of fate? I try, oh I try, with every breath, to give you a love that defies death. But what if my steps aren’t swift or right, what if I lose you in this fight? I ache for more than just “almost there,” I want to be someone who shows they care, without the weight of fear or mistake, without wondering what love might take. But even as doubt grips my chest, I know I’m doing my very best. So I hold onto this truth I’ve found— growth isn’t perfect, nor always profound. It’s quiet steps, a trembling climb, becoming better, one piece at a time. And if love is real, as I believe it to be, you’ll see the best still rising in me. I may not be finished, but I stand here strong, with a heart that’s learning where it belongs. And I promise, with all that I am and will do, I’ll keep getting better—for me and for you.
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Jan 29, 2025
Jan 29, 2025 at 3:29 PM UTC
Becoming me.
Oh the irony When I called you the guy Whose music saved me And now some days I nearly die And right now I curse your name And I think, wherever you lie I hope you lie and feel something the same Like I, so exhausted I can't even cry I asked for a bit of kindness, that is all. And then I remember how messed up you are Already, uncharitably, and charitably, I fall Into the comforting thought that so far And further, you're punishing yourself And that I could have tried to help But I'm helping better by focusing on myself And leaving you to your own quiet yelp Into the empty world you framed it well to be; And I think, Stuff it, I deserve far, far better And not even from you, just generally And one day I won't blame you, still bitter As you are, transcendent as I will be - I wish I could say I felt you deserved my pity.
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Mar 16, 2022
Mar 16, 2022 at 8:50 AM UTC
I hate what a mess I am
One of these days I'm gonna leave this place I'll disappear Far away from here. I'll vanish and everyone will be clueless Left wondering about my existence. I'll do everything I want alone Myself, my only companion.
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Jun 11, 2020
Jun 11, 2020 at 7:56 PM UTC
I'll find myself
screaming into void trying to gain something nothing happens; the void stays still searching for something still feeling the emptiness facing each day recharging on my own spreading positivity around receiving emptiness the void stays painful to watch pain painful to feel painful to let go I still move into the void in hope of finding something trying to be cold trying to control emotions trying to stay strong I still wander in this void searching for something something feels like a distant home walking endlessly towards it. I have started to breathe freely now, the something is me I am still searching for myself starting to decipher the void within me NOW feels freeing 💜
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Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 10:28 PM UTC
The Void
I was left soaking in my sorrow Hoping there will be a better tomorrow Constant check ups to see how he's doing But never once was I one he was pursuing I prayed and cried hoping he'd regret hurting me Coming back apologizing for deserting me Until someone else came along and reminded me of my worth I'm stronger and pray for him to stay far from my turf
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Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 9:42 PM UTC
My Worth
There is a line Dividing myself from myself I am two tormented bodies Merged intricately into one skin Trouble is looming They want out and I am trying to mediate The conflict They are tired and insecure They want themself to themselves And I want it all I can see the marks on my skin The stretching and the pulling And the tearing apart It cracks and flakes And I watch me lose my faith Fragment by fragment There is a line It can be felt but not seen It is hard and bold And obscured by fantasy There is a line That awaits The tug of acceptance Once the collision At long last Materializes Into Something real
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Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 1:58 AM UTC
There is a Line
Dear heart. I know you're somewhere and it scares me that I can't find you. Did I lose you to that boy I spoke about all the time? Did I lose you to friends that left? Did I lose you to the pain you felt? The pain I ignored? They pain I misjudged? Hello? Are you there? I can’t hear you beating anymore? I know you're out there and I need to talk to you. I need to tell you how I feel. Please answer me! Maybe you're gone because I hurt you. I didn't mean to. I just wanted somebody to talk to. Now you're gone and I don't even know for how long that will be. all I'm saying is that when you learn to forgive me I hope you'll come back. I need you. I can't live without you. Continue to beat, because eventually I'll find you.
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 4:58 AM UTC
Heart. Beat. Beat. Beeep. Beat.
Soul blank and empty A fresh canvas Shining flecks of love But stored in the dark I can't paint over it The creation held becomes still Fixed in place and just a fragment of dream I wish to stay in my glass castle in the void My dream to live The perfect blackness unknown and bare Naked Exposed as it's formless husk They will never know who I am My canvas is drawn into the dark I can't keep it from leaving Another dive into my event horizon Another time **** you We aren't finished perfecting you One last time you dog Into that breach one last time
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Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 1:10 AM UTC
Fear Of Myself
emotional speaking, you left me i hate you i did everything for you i'm making you happy i'm not real there not real get out of my head she calls me names why is there four of me i have friends you just cant see them first they  were a game now your comfort i failed Analytically speaking, i failed at helping you and that is of no fault of mine i have tried and failed breaking down speaking, you dint want to be my friend but the voices do they shower me in ink as if my own blood was pouring over me black oozing ink mettalic oh its wonderful they wave and smile i can see them but you cant unfortunately they can see you what i want to say. H    E                          L       P MMMMME *********  PLEASE i'm begging you she's begging you were begging you
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Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 9:42 PM UTC
were all speaking
I am a bird caught in a tree. This is where I'm meant to be, but I feel lost, and without meaning. I am looking, searching, for something original within myself. Instead, I find that, I'm only copying someone else. I don't want to be me. I'd rather be a bird, who doesn't have to worry, about whether or not it will ever be free. Free from it's own society. Every time I look into the mirror, I see a boy, instead of a man. Because what is a man, if he is controlled, by the beliefs and thoughts, of someone all the way across the world? Someone who is typing words into a keyboard. Words that they think hold no meaning. But instead, they make my soul crumble, into ash and dust. I am a bird caught in a tree. There is no where to go for me. Constantly craving excitement, but unable to leave my own home. Will I ever be free? From my own society?
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Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 9:09 PM UTC
Bird
I am afraid of letting go And losing control I am afraid of being happy Of waking up wanting to start the day Of accepting myself for who I am Of losing the motivation for my art because I’m no longer so sad and alone Of losing the bubble I created for writing since I have no one to turn to no one to talk to no one to belong to I am afraid of being I am afraid of the potential I possess I don’t mean to sound arrogant or proud Because I’m not I am just me Mikayla I walk around the halls sheltered and afraid Afraid of the people I see around me Every one of these individuals has a hidden talent, A secret, A love, A vice, And what do I have? Just me. Mikayla DeAnn. If I am not walking with a false bravado Shining plastered smiles to hide my fear I am invisible I am shoved Pushed Tossed Turned Unrecognizable Mikayla DeAnn Kay I am afraid of letting go If I let go, I am letting go of the control I possess, My only vice I am letting go of the years of “you’re not good enough” The years of “you’re not pretty enough” The years of “you’re not skinny enough” The years of “you’re not worthy” The years of “you do not belong” Mikayla DeAnn I want to shine I want to smile I want to make others happy without losing pieces of myself I want to be confident in what I like What I wear What I desire I want to feel whole I want to be seen I want to become… no I am Mikayla
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Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 4:40 PM UTC
I AM!!!
As a child my lips kissed Every honeysuckle my arms could reach. I believed,honestly and truly, That if I ****** every sweet drop out I’d find happiness hidden there. Every bush was bare by the time I left, I was still searching as I became a teenager, I search now, not in plants, In people. I believe I can find my happiness, By pressing my lips against others, Filling myself with their energy and filling my mouth With sweetness are not so different. I haven’t seen a honeysuckle bush in years, But every now and again, The familiar taste is on my tongue.
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Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 11:09 PM UTC
Honeysuckle ********
i wander in art galleries colourful theme parks busy streets dark alleys looking for someone i knew once before and it was you i have always looked staring into the abyss looking for you maybe i am a soul destined to be forever separated from you you may think that i might be looking for someone else someone i met before but no that's not the case. i stare into the arts to find me. i see their smiles to remind me of what i was before.
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Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 10:17 PM UTC
that's not the case
Please forgive me. We both know, I'm the one that breaks. While we both have demons, Mine run deep. I know you're trying to find yourself. I'm sorry, that I'm not helping you. But I see a garden growing in your mind. Someday you'll wake up and realize that a boy like you is strong. You are meant for many things. But when the water of happiness pours over me. I'm promised it will set me free. But the water drowns me. Emotion after emotions washes over me. I'm told at age 8, "things will get better" I'm told the same at 16. Finally on my 18th, I'll tell myself maybe I'm not meant for this life. I don't wish to be drowning in my emotions. I don't wish for the life that has broken me 10x over. I wish to be like you. I wish to find myself, too. But chains from my past old me down. The hold me down and wrap around me, I'm surround by the sea. I'm flooded and drowned with of a sea of emotions. Is this what I've become? A shell? A shell of who I used to be. I'm watered down. A watered down shell.
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Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 12:34 PM UTC
Things I Feel But Usually Can't Explain
I suspected something was happening when you started to change. You let me think I was crazy for being on the path of truth. "Ignorance is your best friend, I guess." "Forever and always", you told me. How long did it take for you to realize that a river of lies was flowing from your lips? We were two broken pieces of stone, losing more of ourselves around each other. Beating each other too death. We kept on fighting, but held on to each other anyway. Wearing thin, the river of your lies, and betrayals completely crushed what we had. We held on, but the river beats the rock eventually. And now...I am merely dust.
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Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 8:50 PM UTC
The River Eventually Beats The Rock.
I think I'm the most upset because I've never not been in a relationship and I'm willingly walking away from this one and I feel like I'm going to be all alone. I feel like, if I'm by myself, no one will care about me or love me. Maybe I'm just in denial and insecure, but I've never actually taken the chance to find myself and that's all I think I've ever needed. I need approval from myself before I need it from any guy.
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Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 11:49 PM UTC
The End of You & Me
I lost myself once upon a time in a place that was only whispered to me in dreams. Where the fog is thick and threads through the seams of street lights and street cars with *** fights and brillo bars.   I tell you I lost myself on the tongue of insanity who swallowed my soul to feed its humanity. I lost myself in a city that found me; San Francisco, 2013 Let me extend two points like two bridges that begin in separate places but lead to the same thing. I’m talking the people in both hands with countless art in between. The people, the people, the people. What can’t be said about the near million faces sleeping on warm pillows or cold stones, wearing top hats or traffic cones because not every night are people thriving. But they’re still surviving, getting busy living or getting busy dying. In their eyes are stories being told once you wipe those windows into their souls, deep. You see it all, Just like every star in the fall when the sun goes to sleep. I gave a homeless man a dollar who gave it to another homeless man who then gave it back to me Like we were passing a love note that said, “You need this more than me.” So which of us was the one without the home? Home I soon found in the art of every step taken, one foot in front of the next. I can’t walk through that city discounting the side effects. I was drunk, but not from bottles or cans I was drunk from the hands that told tales with graffiti art to camera pans. and countless other melodies massaging bricks into the landmarks that spanned. Culture sprinkling up and down the hills and between the cracks Painting colors in the sky as the rainbows stacked, Finding pots of gold by merely lifting my eye lids back. There is so much to say about this city in the bay, that is held in place by the people of race and the vessels of art that encompass in its space like stories and attitude, survival and gratitude, muse and expression in delight or depression. I tell you I lost myself in that city. But I know now that being lost is sometimes the only way to be truly found.
0
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 6:55 AM UTC
City in the bay
I lost myself once upon a time in a place that was only whispered to me in dreams. Where the fog is thick and threads through the seams of street lights and street cars with *** fights and brillo bars.   I tell you I lost myself on the tongue of insanity who swallowed my soul to feed its humanity. I lost myself in a city that found me; San Francisco, 2013 Let me extend two points like two bridges that begin in separate places but lead to the same thing. I’m talking the people in both hands with countless art in between. The people, the people, the people. What can’t be said about the near million faces sleeping on warm pillows or cold stones, wearing top hats or traffic cones because not every night are people thriving. But they’re still surviving, getting busy living or getting busy dying. In their eyes are stories being told once you wipe those windows into their souls, deep. You see it all, Just like every star in the fall when the sun goes to sleep. I gave a homeless man a dollar who gave it to another homeless man who then gave it back to me Like we were passing a love note that said, “You need this more than me.” So which of us was the one without the home? Home I soon found in the art of every step taken, one foot in front of the next. I can’t walk through that city discounting the side effects. I was drunk, but not from bottles or cans I was drunk from the hands that told tales with graffiti art to camera pans. and countless other melodies massaging bricks into the landmarks that spanned. Culture sprinkling up and down the hills and between the cracks Painting colors in the sky as the rainbows stacked, Finding pots of gold by merely lifting my eye lids back. There is so much to say about this city in the bay, that is held in place by the people of race and the vessels of art that encompass in its space like stories and attitude, survival and gratitude, muse and expression in delight or depression. I tell you I lost myself in that city. But I know now that being lost is sometimes the only way to be truly found.
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*Yes, tell me. What is worse: The devil you don't know or the devil you do?*
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Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 9:30 PM UTC
Tell me..