#healingprocess - Hello Poetry

Replicating thoughts—reptile skins, changing shadows, down to earth; repping tiles— :revolving doors, resolving morals through cutthroat self-worth; like ice-cold Sprite slicing my throat— lime seeds bite, then lemon trees from words; what I spit, I plant— pain grows proof, even when it hurts. A six-pack that hurts from trading sixpacks, late nights; uncontrollable forces still, I force control within— a brown stain on white forces, forces me to face what shows; at least a piece of white remains, at least a piece of growth still grows, even when it feels slow.

0

Mar 26

Mar 26, 2026 at 4:45 PM UTC

OddOdysseyPoet

Discipline equals Growth

Replicating thoughts—reptile skins, changing shadows, down to earth; repping tiles— :revolving doors, resolving morals through cutthroat self-worth; like ice-cold Sprite slicing my throat— lime seeds bite, then lemon trees from words; what I spit, I plant— pain grows proof, even when it hurts. A six-pack that hurts from trading sixpacks, late nights; uncontrollable forces still, I force control within— a brown stain on white forces, forces me to face what shows; at least a piece of white remains, at least a piece of growth still grows, even when it feels slow.

13

A love paradox — I don’t fall in love… I fall into question: “I think I’m in love”— no… I’m not. Going missing… or just missing you? Acting reckless— but when I recover from this, I’m hoping to be wreck less. A better conclusion. Feels like my face is about to break out— “please don’t press that pimple;” Don’t force heal the issue, as your skin keeps trying to find a way out; this body’s just a cage we decorate, while dreaming of a way to break out. Overall, watching life through opposing mirrors— every reflection arguing with itself showing me more than it appears Layers stitched in silence, truth tucked under presentation; there’s more of you beneath those overalls. Protect yourself, invest your health, extend your wealth, learn from others; be yourself. Who are you trying to impress, if they really don’t value your self?

0

Mar 18

Mar 18, 2026 at 4:53 PM UTC

OddOdysseyPoet

Wreck Less

A love paradox — I don’t fall in love… I fall into question: “I think I’m in love”— no… I’m not. Going missing… or just missing you? Acting reckless— but when I recover from this, I’m hoping to be wreck less. A better conclusion. Feels like my face is about to break out— “please don’t press that pimple;” Don’t force heal the issue, as your skin keeps trying to find a way out; this body’s just a cage we decorate, while dreaming of a way to break out. Overall, watching life through opposing mirrors— every reflection arguing with itself showing me more than it appears Layers stitched in silence, truth tucked under presentation; there’s more of you beneath those overalls. Protect yourself, invest your health, extend your wealth, learn from others; be yourself. Who are you trying to impress, if they really don’t value your self?

23

My heart is bruised...so here I am writing a poem... how cliche of me. Crying over a man who told me I was worth the fight but still let me go...how cliche of me. Mind running laps searching for all the faults I made, all the things I could've done better knowng I gave 150% to him knowing that if my efforts were honestly valued you would still be laying next to me instead of me laying by myself..how cliche of me. I thought that if I allowed him into me that he would see or that he would feel just how much I loved him and that I was forever by his side but for him... it was just itch to be scratched.. a urge to be dealt with...how cliche of Us

0

Jan 18, 2020

Jan 18, 2020 at 2:17 PM UTC

secret-t

Cliche

My heart is bruised...so here I am writing a poem... how cliche of me. Crying over a man who told me I was worth the fight but still let me go...how cliche of me. Mind running laps searching for all the faults I made, all the things I could've done better knowng I gave 150% to him knowing that if my efforts were honestly valued you would still be laying next to me instead of me laying by myself..how cliche of me. I thought that if I allowed him into me that he would see or that he would feel just how much I loved him and that I was forever by his side but for him... it was just itch to be scratched.. a urge to be dealt with...how cliche of Us

1

Maybe it's not the nightmares keeping you awake. Maybe it’s the memories of her smile. Maybe it’s the way she made you feel, or maybe its just the loneliness that’s gets inside your head. But you have to let go if you want to heal.

0

Apr 13, 2016

Apr 13, 2016 at 2:05 PM UTC

aj-bell

Letting go

Maybe it's not the nightmares keeping you awake. Maybe it’s the memories of her smile. Maybe it’s the way she made you feel, or maybe its just the loneliness that’s gets inside your head. But you have to let go if you want to heal.

4