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#innerwork
The only menu you ever had… the men you offered their hand— to feed you a sense of joy whenever you felt sad. …but gaze at His hand He wields before you; the breath you borrow for today is the air He willed for you. Tomorrow’s already gone, the damage is done; a shadow still bleeds even when stabbed in the dark— still, a spark speaks from the dark. You are a star; as distant as you are; that light may feel far, may flicker, feel scarred… ...but taste the bitter of failure, to cherish success’s kiss— with patience, hope, faith… and prayer. But this right here, isn’t that prayer; just tokens of words, a message minted in air. A silver coin: heads or tails; both sides exist, but neither should flip you or tip your scale. Don’t let life run you over; run with the drive you keep; you may live cornered by streets, but you’re not set in place like concrete. ...there are footprints in words, trace them back, but don’t circle back to where you lacked. Move forward, even if slow… just don’t become what you already know.
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Apr 25
Apr 25, 2026 at 3:03 AM UTC
The Menu You Chose
It’s not that I want to be a bad person— There are just too many bad people Trying to edge all the bad out of me... It’s not that I expect the worst from love— I’ve just experienced the worst out of love... It’s not that I don’t want to love someone— It’s the fear of loving someone who hasn’t Fully learned how to love themselves... It’s not that I make myself expensive— I just refuse to discount my worth, to meet Someone’s inflated expectations... _I’m not trying to mask my anxiety— I’m learning to master my patience._
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Jan 1
Jan 1, 2026 at 5:13 PM UTC
What Survival Sounds Like
I miss how the hours passed—filled with joy, connection, and pride. How the city night lights accompanied me home. The routes, the journey, the walk. How some nights were long, exhausting— And reaching home felt like heaven-sent. I miss the mundane, the routine. I miss living the days I once prayed for. Now I wait—to heal, for time, For the days to pass and release me. A better version—the one I’ve prayed to grow into. How expensive it is to be deserving— Of a better version, a better life. I promise to do better each day. Promise not to let this drag me down, consume me. I promise to savor this: A break that is a gift. And I promise not to regret being given the chance to rest. Learning that I, too, deserve unconditional love. I’m thankful for this pause And I know it will not be in vain. Receiving love does not mean You have to spare your bones for it. I can smell it in the distance. This pause, This current life I’m living. It’s pulling me closer to a better version of me. So now, all I do is try. Survive. And savour this life, The one that’s slow, The one that crushes you on certain days. I promise to survive this. In triumph.
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Jul 8, 2025
Jul 8, 2025 at 11:49 AM UTC
Learning in Pause
If I sit here just long enough, maybe I'll forget Just for a minute If I let the sun kiss my face and the breeze cool my skin, maybe I can pretend Just for a minute If I focus on the birds and my little girls laugh, if I could just be present Just for a minute
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May 29, 2025
May 29, 2025 at 3:01 PM UTC
Just a Moment
Waking Dragging Wanting Hoping. So much more to life. Seeing the trouble Not knowing what to do… Waiting Dragging Hoping Wanting.
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Sep 11, 2024
Sep 11, 2024 at 7:32 AM UTC
2 minutes
I broke. I once wanted one. A dad. A true father. To his heart, to his wife, and his family. What I got was another. Swallowed by suffering, his silence suffocating a dream. His? Mine? Lost and adrift and slowly buried by his past. Now father. Dad. I alone have to stand. For my youth long since passed. Stand for my kids, my wife, and yearning for the heart, the Soul of my Self. For the boy who’s walked alone, who still lives with me. So that the pain can rise, Can breach the surface and let loose the storm for a sweet burial song.    All this so he can once again Remember what love is.
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Aug 29, 2024
Aug 29, 2024 at 8:12 PM UTC
Dear Father
I’m navigating a field of dark something-ness Sitting quiet in morning air In these cavities where my soul perceives life, I seek a heightened energy Laying hidden behind wrinkled skin tucked tightly into two beds of compact tissue in this moment they rest purposefully as if sitting behind window curtains They serve a common purpose when prompted, To identify objects in this limiting dimensional plane. Some days when I come here, I wander aimlessly across battle-torn countries of thought It is essential to let the river take them Watching them pass as an observer instead of the instigator Feeling the depth of their sting grow distant Sinking deeply into the dimension where we live beyond bodies Where I am a bee pollinating the flower I am the bird calling out in a resounding plea I am the wind pushing through bamboo forests Until breath inhaling and collapsing my cadaver becomes less of a grounding cord And the mat placed beneath with intention is no longer a chain to the ground There is now no face to inhabit, The world; a faint memory of molding Here the wind isn’t quite invisible Temperature is not affected by her power Bearing colors, intentions and tranquility I let her carry me up and away
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Sep 11, 2022
Sep 11, 2022 at 5:33 PM UTC
Meditation