#liberating
It is kind of liberating
Not being flowery
Minding Ps and Qs
Inside of You.
(c) Debra Lea Ryan
23/06/2024
☀♥ƸӜƷ✿♬
Jun 23, 2024
Jun 23, 2024 at 8:07 AM UTC
The truth is...
we don’t love
the person
we love
because they
love us back.
We just love them.
No reasons.
And quite frankly,
that’s what makes
it so liberating.
Apr 29, 2020
Apr 29, 2020 at 5:05 AM UTC
Should we dissolve this?
This game we are playing
Jumping these hurdles
It can be exhausting.
Rocking the boat
Tipping me over the edge
Wanting to see me
Succumb to the waves.
Relationship dissipating
Easygoing on temptation
Dissolving my feelings
No surprises at all.
Easy come easy go
No more favors for you
Closing these doors
And ending this chapter.
© Sofia Villagrana 2020
Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 5:01 PM UTC
thinking about how the world doesn't really care about you can get really lonely.
but it's also liberating. your soul breathes a sigh of relief, and you can just exist.
it's empowering. you can allow yourself to take up space and own it.
but mostly, it's enlightening. you learn things you never knew you never knew.
you learn how to live.
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 12:26 AM UTC
I can only remember very few liberating moments in my life:
That one time when my dad got mad because I sneaked out of the house to buy candy and when I went back to the house, he was crying. It was the first time that I saw him cry.
That time when I heard Earthmover live for the first time and it was raining hard. I was contemplating about my life, the future with a friend. Asking ourselves what might happen to us in 5 years. That was 2012 and I wish I had it all figured out by then. I was also drunk.
That time when I caught my first wave. I felt free and alive for the first time. I was so stoked, I almost cried as I paddled back to the lineup. Then I pigged out afterwards.
And that time when I went on a date with a stranger. Nothing super fancy, no pressures. A date that lasted for 8 hours. Went to work the next day with literally no shut-eye but my heart was happy.
A few months from now, I am going to marry that guy. Nothing fancy, but there will be a lot of ***** definitely. I’ll be marrying the guy who made me feel the exact same feeling when I caught my first wave, alive. I still haven’t figured everything out, and I guess I’ve accepted the fact that it’s okay. And how I wish I could see my dad cry when he sees me in my white dress. But that's something that would never happen.
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 12:59 AM UTC
That dormant feeling of insecurity arose,
when travel journal got ****** adjacent
to my tattered (holey tattooed) clothes
while I knew with crossed eyes
aroused anger from peaceful doze
my younger sister felt about her
globe trotting exploits, an over expose
jour ever since voyaging out on her own
after graduating top of her class
where mine hatred glows
indirectly snidely sneering
at ma dough less brother hoboes
(a 1979 Methacton High School alumni),
unanimously chosen valedictorian
dressed in Calvin Klein
Harris tweed, couture
and silk ***** hose
like me prolonging, promoting
on par with quasi staff sergeant, who knows
artful disciplinarian gingerly launching
Cider House rules,
asper formerly commanding G.I. Joes
and pronouncing, predilection
exhaling natural highs no lows
traveling solo, with surviving Wilburys,
or just mows
zing nonchalantly
(though a foreigner) with swarthy skin color
easily camouflaging as civilian
all points on the compass,
where minute needle doth nose
upon returning home (being honorably feted
at once glorious estate of Glen Elm,
where she did propose
to the Lord Taylor (swiftly), which location
situated at 324 Level Road, Collegeville,
Pennsylvania 19426),
thence a great huzzah a rose
an immediate nauseousness welled
within from me head tummy smelly toes
I did not want to here, or see any details,
which would accentuate personal woes
popping, snapping, and smarting,
and slapping skin raw tib bits,
ache'n to yanked strings
of mama's heirloom yo-yos!
Poet Script:
trials and tribulations,
visited upon head of young
concocted ("FAKE") gusty and gutsy
kid sister enterprising ingenue,
christened easy on the tongue
Sharodd (not her real name),
to top off talents sung
like a professional opera singer, which rung
a shiver along small hairs of spine did tingle
heard all the way to Lake Woebegone
where bachelor farmers did mingle
every Christmas, a decreasing
number donned Kris Kringle
hit with blitzkrieg of yawping brats
hoof pranced to bell weather jingle!
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 1:33 AM UTC
There's something liberating
about watching old men
with gray beards and hats
read intently from thick books
while the world unfolds around them.
Their families are gone,
along with the desire to chase
fast women and fast cash.
These aged men of leisure,
they are the survivors
of war and capitalism,
religion and disease.
Nothing surprises these old men
in their final days of wisdom,
and so, it’s quite simple.
They read in peace.
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC
windows down
twenty over
rain pouring in
back seats are covered
world is ours
time to takeover
no more fear
happiness rediscovered
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 3:18 PM UTC
When was the
last time
you felt the
liberating rush
of the naked truth?
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 6:40 AM UTC
Just sitting.
Just writing.
Saturday translating.
Comfortly feeling.
Relaxing this evening.
A feeling so captivating.
My mind is liberating.
Thoughts full imagination.
They are the reflection
of seduction.
When memories
feels so alive and
intensively.
Like dreaming in space
so heavenly.
The beauty of words
reveal our vulnerability.
Escape to infinity.
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 1:54 PM UTC
So serene, so blissful…
So pacific, so liberating…
The only sounds that drench my ear-
The drops of rain,
The gush of the wind,
The flow of the river,
And, the sound of me, breathing.
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 2:08 PM UTC