#resilient
keep going
for the toddler
who couldn't quite pronounce
her "th" sounds
and who stumbled around
still searching for her footing
trusting someone would
always be there
to carry her to safety
keep going
for the child
who wanted to be an author
then a detective
then a teacher
then an actor
the girl who imagined a million futures
deserves to have at least one
keep going
for the pre-teen
who grew into her own body
and learned the rhythms of life
how to fit into
being who everyone expected her to be
even when it meant
suppressing her true self
keep going
for the 8th grader
who thought her life was over
until a clumsy knot
kept her tied to earth
and resolved to stay
even through the darkness
because she realized
she still had life to live
keep going
for the freshman
who finally found her home
in a community that took her in
just as she was
the girl who realized
being her true self
was okay
and chose herself
over society's standards
keep going
for the sophomore
who kept swimming
even on the days she felt like
her only real option
was to drown
so shattered
but so resilient
keep going
for every younger version of yourself
they deserve to keep going
keep breathing
keep living
through you
keep going
for the girl
who made it this far
keep going for her
May 21
May 21, 2026 at 12:01 AM UTC
My bones are not that weary
My heart can bear more weight
My feet have plenty of tread left
Today doesn’t feel too late
May 19
May 19, 2026 at 12:15 PM UTC
While you sit repressing all that you're regretting I'm gathering strength to move on You keep on stalling hope I'll come back crawling What planet are you living on Hold your breath longer Because I'm getting stronger While you pass out waiting for me You know that I'm through I'm done catering to you You're in the agony that you gave to me
Apr 16
Apr 16, 2026 at 5:31 PM UTC
You drug my light through the fire hoping to extinguish it by flame, but it only made it shine brighter it grew stronger enduring the pain Now a sparking epicenter a diamond formed under pressure shimmering for everyone to see my strength and resiliency
Mar 14
Mar 14, 2026 at 8:50 PM UTC
Solitude becomes a blessing, once you have faced your darkness and emerged stronger.
For those feeling lonely,
remember: this too shall pass.
For now, savor the small blisses—perhaps indulging in black tea and shortbread cookies, watching a sunset, or dancing your heart out.
It is the quiet bliss found after weathering the storm.
Jan 25
Jan 25, 2026 at 2:54 PM UTC
You thought I would break
slowly, quietly,
the way a life erodes when no one’s watching.
But I didn’t stay down.
I walked out of the wreckage
still breathing,
still becoming.
I carry you—
not as a weight,
but as a small ember
I sometimes feel glowing
in the pocket of my memory.
From what shattered,
I built something steady:
a voice that doesn’t shake,
a love that doesn’t disappear,
a life that holds its shape
even when the wind rises.
You linger in the soft corners of my mind.
I let it ache when it needs to.
Because the truth is this:
you were the force
that taught me how to land
when falling felt like fate.
You were the storm.
I was the field—
flattened, changed,
but seeded with something
that only grows after lightning.
Your imprint stays—
faint, indelible—
a watermark on the man I’ve become.
My heart still stirs
at what you gave,
what you broke,
what you revealed.
Your shadow moves through old dreams.
Your voice echoes
in the quiet between breaths.
But I stand now—
whole, loved, alive—
not despite what we were,
but because I walked through it
and kept going.
Your beauty fades only in time,
never in meaning.
I keep you in the gentlest chamber of my heart—
not as the wound that cut me,
but as the wind
that pushed me forward
into the light
I didn’t know I could claim.
Dec 28, 2025
Dec 28, 2025 at 11:18 AM UTC
He moves through the world quietly,
learning to carry weight on his own.
Some doors were closed, some never existed,
and some he couldn’t keep knocking on.
Some moments slip through his hands,
others arrive late, much later than he hoped.
Shadows of him grow taller every year,
making the room too dark to speak.
No maps, no signals — just the road,
and a tired choice to keep moving anyway.
Nov 28, 2025
Nov 28, 2025 at 2:05 AM UTC
And so I went to the water,
To wash my wounds,
To cool my burns,
To calm my storms,
Yet still — I bled red.
And so I went to the water,
To dive for clarity,
To search for dignity,
To drown my fragility,
Yet still — I bled red.
And so I went to the water,
To find my innocence,
To forgive my insolence,
To cleanse my conscience,
Yet still — I bled red.
And so I went to the water,
And dwelled in pain,
To mend what love had broken,
To sew what had been torn,
To patch what life had scorned,
And yet — I still bled red.
This red won’t let me go.
This red has stayed.
For it is always the wounded
Who bleed—
Never the ones
Who carry the blade.
Oct 25, 2025
Oct 25, 2025 at 1:36 PM UTC
The storm within may cloud the views,
But morning breaks with brighter hues.
It’s true — I have paid my dues,
Wanted so badly to be your muse.
Now I realize I was just confused,
It’s time to give myself the news:
I have grown — and it’s me you lose.
Oct 25, 2025
Oct 25, 2025 at 1:34 PM UTC
I stood up during a harsh storm of life unyielding with all my might I remained steadfast and powerful even as it seemed relentless and unstoppable Cyclones raged all around me, threatening howling out my name so deafening Gale force winds, dark and unforgiving my firm resolve remained unwavering I survived a devastating storm of life and was left unscathed standing in its light
Oct 23, 2025
Oct 23, 2025 at 6:53 PM UTC
I wonder if my legacy
will merely be a faint light
in the peripheral vision
of a passer’s eye or a shadow figure
of a memory, the name on the tip
of a tongue one can’t seem to form.
No matter how many letters I write
to my ten-year-old self she doesn’t
seem to trust she will ever be first in line
because she’s been taught, she’s
supposed to be last.
I am beginning to understand
why I’ve always been in love with dandelions.
They are petaled, defiant sunlight
thriving where nothing else can.
Aug 23, 2025
Aug 23, 2025 at 4:29 PM UTC
Beneath the weight of starless nights,
He carved his path through fractured light
A scholar' s heart, though hunger gnawed,
In lecture halls, his dreams he thawed.
No coin to claim a bed's embrace,
Yet courage etched his weary face.
Cold floors, stale bread, and borrowed showers,
But hope persisted through the hours.
“Define your goal,”his voice now rings,
“Let every step to purpose cling.”
Through storms of doubt, he held the flame,
And grit became his middle name.
No grant nor state would stake his claim,
Yet social media fanned his aim.
Strangers became his steadfast kin,
Their faith a balm for wounds within.
Now standing tall, degree in hand,
He maps the way for others’ land.
“Your trials are seeds” he softly shares,
“For blossoms thrive through unkind airs.”
Resilience wrote his story’s creed
Not born of luck, but planted seed.
A testament to hearts that fight,
And turn the darkest voids to light.
Apr 2, 2025
Apr 2, 2025 at 3:12 PM UTC
A reign of the sky,
Ink-stained feathers—
Scavenger of the lost,
Willing to die.
Blends with the ******
Identical to all.
Unfurls, beats harder—
The crow begins to fall.
A shadow chasing light,
His nest embraced another—
Not beneath the ink-ish night,
But one that rose from dead anther.
Yet the curse of a crow,
Bearer of omens, fell again.
This time, he couldn't throw—
The wound cut deeper,
The pain remained.
His lullaby, abuse—
His voice, a crash.
Cries rang through the void,
Silencing the bones, thrashed.
Feb 23, 2025
Feb 23, 2025 at 4:50 AM UTC
Like an old lover,
I press my lips on the mouthpiece,
And I blow.
I blow until my lungs are about give out.
I blow until the beads of stardust twinkle.
The air tastes like rust.
Still, I play.
I may not have learned all the notes
On this blue saxophone,
But still, I play what sounds good to me.
The air rolls over me like a dream
One I didn’t have the good sense to
stay asleep and finish.
The red dust longs
For thicker air,
Burning with everything that it knows
The taste of its name,
The hunger of its touch,
The pull of something stronger
Than us both.
If silence comes from a mouth,
It is still felt, regardless of whether
It has arms.
Mars, a girl that history got wrong,
wisps through the red dust.
Whether I stay here on Mars,
Return to Earth, or go somewhere different,
You never forget the way breath
Feels against your skin.
Never.
I continue to press my lips on
The mouthpiece,
I blow until my lungs are about give out.
I play what sounds good to me,
Whether it’s old or new.
Love is still love,
No matter how cold it gets
Dec 6, 2024
Dec 6, 2024 at 1:39 AM UTC
my eyes are drawn
to two seagulls
perched contentedly on
a shit-caked lamp post
nothing decorative
lacking flourish or accent
a simple narrowing pole
coloured inexplicably green
with gently domed cowls
that gulls and pigeons
seemingly frequent
marred by a combination
of cream brown white
for all i know
it could be
their own faeces
in which they stand
or it could be
weathered and aged
built up and dried in place
for days
for months
for years
perhaps even decades
never to return
to untarnished days
perhaps if the bulb blew
or the lamp failed completely
it might be restored
while it is repaired
but there is no
guarantee of that
and yet the birds
could not care less
they'll pay no heed
to that which is less
than perfection
treating this evidently
well-favoured resting place
the same as they would
an unmarred branch
protected amongst tree tops
or a dainty bird-bath
amidst the flowers
of someone's quaint garden
Jun 26, 2023
Jun 26, 2023 at 11:47 AM UTC
Sometimes the journey feels too long, too hard or too risky, but in our toughest moments we find impossible, incredible and unimaginable strength! Trust that you will make it through! Always remember that light can only shine its brightest in the darkest of nights. Storms are temporary but strength can last forever 🤍.
Sep 20, 2022
Sep 20, 2022 at 11:11 PM UTC
once a rubberband
stretched beyond capacity
now a bungee cord
Jul 1, 2022
Jul 1, 2022 at 8:57 PM UTC
Tell me,
how did you keep your heart?
how did you guard it under such relentless assault?
how did you keep it whole?
how did you keep it open?
'I had you.'
Jul 22, 2021
Jul 22, 2021 at 9:56 AM UTC
You are more resilient than you realize
Heart will survive though it may bleed
Sharp words cut your ego down to bone
Use them to strengthen and succeed
Turning pain to tools is hard
But it is better than nothing at all
The choice is yours whether to fly
Or succumb to wounds and fall
Jul 15, 2021
Jul 15, 2021 at 4:55 PM UTC
I’m not remotely close to having control.
My fingers slip, but I don’t want to go down that hole.
Temptation at the tip of my nose
with her eyes opening up my soul.
My resolve is low, but I’m trying to make it last.
Sometimes in this race, I feel like I’m coming in last,
even though I stick to the goal, and I’m skating so fast.
I just wish to feel whole, but that’s evading my grasp.
It would be so easy to give up,
to lift up, the regret and hating the past.
Holding on is so hard, is this what
life leads to? The anger and grief bleeds through
my words, hurting him, her, and me too.
Is it sad to plead to the unknown when euphoria actually sees you
at your lowest? When you’re unheroic
and have never been stoic? When you’re unnoticed
yet devoted but you can’t keep focus
because you’ve lost all motive?
It’s sobering to deny the malice
but what if you’re too weak to avoid the chalice?
Will falling into euphoria break the chains on my talus?
Jan 11, 2021
Jan 11, 2021 at 9:11 PM UTC
Come sit by me
Listen to my story
You will then know
Why , I am the way , I am
Where my strength
Where my laughter
Reside in me
Why , I am so resilient
Why , I want more from life
Why , I am lonely
Why , I still have hope
That in me , I know
I have lived the pain
I learn and grow from it
If , I can still stand up
Then anyone can
With all the struggles
With all the ****
I have had to live with
from birth till now
If , I still breath
If , I still believe
then you can
I can show you
through my story
Can it be
...
© Jennifer L DeLong 2/2021
Feb 25, 2021
Feb 25, 2021 at 6:01 AM UTC
cw: ****** assault and suicidal thoughts
I want to combust.
Not into the traditionally red flames.
Red is my mother’s color; because, it’s
the one that suits her the best.
But the reason why I hate it, is that in a deeper shade,
it is the same color that runs between her thighs
and stains the bedsheets we clean
when men decide that they’re more worthy.
I want my flames to be purple,
the same shade I have been fixed on since I was little.
Purple like the heroine I always dreamed of becoming,
and the edges of my vision when I
swallow the cleaning products,
count out the pills,
pull the belt tight around my neck,
grow so furious with myself that I wish I was just dead.
When I told my mother I wanted to die,
she screamed at me,
“How dare you think you’ve gone through so much,
when I’ve gone through so much worse!”
That is why
I want to explode
into flames
that dare to justify my own right to pain.
But purple is the same color
I see around my little sister’s face,
concern in her gaze
as she whispers, “I love you."
How could the world be so cruel?
Locking a man in our home,
a man who tries to take away every piece that makes us whole,
and forcing my little sister to witness me in such a state.
I can’t live up to being a
college student
daughter
big sister,
yet
I can’t bear forcing my little sister
to witness her big sister
lifeless in the room next to hers.
When I go out,
I want to combust into purple flames
because I’m so
terrified, furious, disappointed.
Unlike the men who built the college,
I want to die
without a trace,
and my ashes to disappear.
I guess
nothing would change after I die,
except there would be more
purple little bruises on my sister’s heart.
But would I become
greedy, disgusting, memorable
because I would
leave her?
Leave her like our father
who forgot our birthdays
or when it was his time for child custody,
but could never forget his favorite beer?
When my mother’s boyfriend tries to break into my room at night,
I beg the flames to take me.
I’m too tired, hungry, and weak
to believe I have a right to my own body anymore.
“Traitors,” I whisper to the flames,
hoping my emotions would be strong enough
to ignite myself
and disappear.
But the following morning,
my little sister would knock at my bedroom door,
greeting me with a sleepy smile,
and sitting on my bed to chat.
How could the world be so cruel
to my little sister by making me,
the girl who can’t even protect herself,
her protector?
“I missed you.”
She says, and I can’t help but laugh.
“I just saw you before you went to sleep.”
I reply.
Suddenly
the purple flames that I once called traitors
remind me they were with me the whole time,
burning resiliently.
Jul 28, 2020
Jul 28, 2020 at 1:51 AM UTC