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#selfcompassion
Hands on the wheel Hands on your heart Secrets keep you On drive tonight You can’t Shake this feeling Everything's Overwhelming You want it to Make sense Some days Hope will find you Then one night Will remind you Patience is a virtue No matter what I won’t turn on you I will always love you Hands on the wheel And a hole in your heart Rev the engine And make a new start
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Apr 26
Apr 26, 2026 at 2:22 AM UTC
I Will Always Love You
I stand by the door, never called in, the silence cuts deeper than skin. Laughter inside, but I’m not allowed, alone in the cold, apart from the crowd. Rejection bites sharp, sadness takes hold, numbness creeps in, its touch is so cold. These moments remind me, again and again, I don’t have true friends—I’ve learned that by then. If I could speak to the child I was then, I’d whisper the truth with paper and pen: “Save yourself now, don’t wait for their call, walk away early—it will hurt less to fall.”
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Mar 4
Mar 4, 2026 at 1:56 PM UTC
Left Outside
If truth has become intense, and all this life has become prose, start a new page of music, songs for whisperings and wails. Sweet symphonies that can carry the weight of words of which we can’t speak. Each verse, every stanza, may hold those feelings and heal. And if the music, too, fails to express and reveal, surrender to the silence. It’s not as scary as you would expect. The unspoken words bring guidance, and in darkness you’ll find light, as they are forever intertwined. I promise you, there is strength in surrender, and you are brave enough to get there.
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Feb 5
Feb 5, 2026 at 3:09 AM UTC
Silent Surrender
If I wasn’t stubborn, I wouldn’t have made it this far. If I weren’t willing to compromise, I wouldn’t be me. To be stubborn yet willing to compromise is to meet you where you are. Striving for perfection is wrong — it is the biggest act of stubbornness, and the greatest compromise of all.
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Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 3:15 PM UTC
Meeting You Where I Am
The gentleness of Spring is a beautiful thing, something that I come to long for day by day. But my body and soul stay stuck in the harshness of my own never ending Winter. The cold keeps me frozen in place, and it saps the warmth that I have for myself. My people suffer this cold as well, even though they are well into Spring themselves. Despite my frozen state, I stare longingly into the Spring, hoping that the snow will let up and my bones are no longer frozen. Time is running out, and I will die if I stay here.
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Jan 13
Jan 13, 2026 at 12:54 AM UTC
Self Compassion
There are places in life where sound travels strangely echoes bending, meanings drifting, a glance arriving before the thought that gave birth to it. That is how I learned that people often meet not the person in front of them, but the story they already carry. A script written long before your voice enters the room. I became a constellation others pointed at casually misread, renamed, treated like a shape in the sky instead of a body with weight and intention. My humor, once something bright I carried lightly, became a doorway people stepped through too quickly mistaking warmth for access, mistaking approachability for invitation, mistaking my silence for consent to be handled like a character, not a person. And I, still loyal to sincerity and connection, kept offering myself in spaces where no one arrived honestly. So I turned inward. Not out of fear, not out of defeat, but the way a river returns to its source when the banks around it no longer understand water. I went back to the quiet to a place where walls don’t watch and footsteps move without commentary, where nothing leans toward me with expectation, and I am not mistaken for anything other than myself. Here, presence becomes a kind of refuge. Here, the noise falls away like an old shell. Here, I am relearning the simple truth: I never needed to stop caring. I only needed to stop offering my depth to those who meet me with nothing but surface. And slowly, in this gentle stillness, I am hearing my real name again the one spoken without hierarchy, without assumption, without noise. A name that belongs only to me.
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Nov 26, 2025
Nov 26, 2025 at 4:28 PM UTC
Where the Quiet Teaches Me My Name
There are places in life where sound travels strangely echoes bending, meanings drifting, a glance arriving before the thought that gave birth to it. That is how I learned that people often meet not the person in front of them, but the story they already carry. A script written long before your voice enters the room. I became a constellation others pointed at casually misread, renamed, treated like a shape in the sky instead of a body with weight and intention. My humor, once something bright I carried lightly, became a doorway people stepped through too quickly mistaking warmth for access, mistaking approachability for invitation, mistaking my silence for consent to be handled like a character, not a person. And I, still loyal to sincerity and connection, kept offering myself in spaces where no one arrived honestly. So I turned inward. Not out of fear, not out of defeat, but the way a river returns to its source when the banks around it no longer understand water. I went back to the quiet to a place where walls don’t watch and footsteps move without commentary, where nothing leans toward me with expectation, and I am not mistaken for anything other than myself. Here, presence becomes a kind of refuge. Here, the noise falls away like an old shell. Here, I am relearning the simple truth: I never needed to stop caring. I only needed to stop offering my depth to those who meet me with nothing but surface. And slowly, in this gentle stillness, I am hearing my real name again the one spoken without hierarchy, without assumption, without noise. A name that belongs only to me.
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66
You didn’t want to die, you wanted to be seen. You didn’t want to hurt yourself, you wanted to be held. You didn’t want the company of pain, you wanted the company of someone. It’s not about simply “eliminating” the symptom— but listening to what it says.
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Oct 18, 2025
Oct 18, 2025 at 9:41 AM UTC
What the Symptom Says
Some random days... when everything feels heavy. when lyrics hit deeper than usual. when every Instagram reel or YouTube short feels too relatable. when you feel like you're not enough. when you start sympathizing with yourself. when you want to scream but stay silent. when you want to cry your lungs out, but don’t know why. Some days are just... painful and complicated. And that’s okay.
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Jun 13, 2025
Jun 13, 2025 at 10:17 AM UTC
Not Every Day Makes Sense
Some random days... when everything feels heavy. when lyrics hit deeper than usual. when every Instagram reel or YouTube short feels too relatable. when you feel like you're not enough. when you start sympathizing with yourself. when you want to scream but stay silent. when you want to cry your lungs out, but don’t know why. Some days are just... painful and complicated. And that’s okay.
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Jun 4, 2025
Jun 4, 2025 at 1:30 AM UTC
Not Every Day Makes Sense
The fences are on fire Can’t you feel it? The bonfire in your nostrils Time standing by your side, Whispering “quickly, love” and, In the distance, lips part and quake They—you—(what difference will it make?) Tremble like a lake of sulfur, A lake of liquified lavender But darker—wine, yes, wine in its cellar Can’t you feel it? The ashes pasting themselves over the moon The midnight sun, the falling stars at noon Time grabs your hand this time, “No more waiting, my love” or maybe It was “No more hating, my love” You clench your free hand You bite your lip You drench you drench you drench Your body in acid in courage in rage Can’t you feel it? The fences are on fire And love’s coming for you
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Nov 1, 2024
Nov 1, 2024 at 5:00 PM UTC
The fences are on fire
My body is safe. It is safe to relax.
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Sep 16, 2024
Sep 16, 2024 at 12:29 PM UTC
Affirmation # 2
I am here. It's ok, breath. I love you. I know, it's difficult sometimes. We fall into patterns of wanting to make everyone around us happy. But ourselves. We sometimes need time to see and realize this. To recognize what is happening. We are learning. It's good you show yourself as you are. I have your back. You don't need to control anything or anyone. Just be and relax. Just be yourself. You are safe here. I am always here for you.
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Sep 16, 2024
Sep 16, 2024 at 12:22 PM UTC
Soothing words to myself
Drastically decided to make getting up at 7 am my new routine. Self-compassion made me agree on giving myself 7 days to reach this. Self-compassion also stopped me from planning any further agreements so that I can focus on only one for now. This feels not overwhelming for a change. This feels like I am giving myself the time I deserve. Thank you, self-compassion!
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Sep 13, 2024
Sep 13, 2024 at 8:49 AM UTC
Drastically self-compassionate
The reason you say you've had enough is because you don't feel you are.
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Jan 31, 2023
Jan 31, 2023 at 11:05 AM UTC
Enough
She who spoke with no love, waited on external acceptance That, it never came She who found comfort in a shell Delicate and golden, but unrecognizable to a polluted mind She who bowed to insecurity Scoured and torched by internal pain She no longer seeks to remain And she no longer will.
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Nov 2, 2020
Nov 2, 2020 at 12:49 PM UTC
She
As soon as we are born We’re judged by the size of our bodies We are told to fit in So we may as well settle in But self-doubt is like a declaration of war Once we adhere to society’s norms Within our own flesh Self-doubt creeps in And strangles self-love in its sleep There is turmoil beneath my skin I no longer want a touch of hatred Upon my flawed skin I want to love myself Without feeling delusional I want to be like wildflowers They don't care where they grow And the flowers that I know In the fields where I grew Were content to be lost in the crowd I intend to grow With or without water And bloom With or without sunlight And raise above cracks of the earth in a sunbeam I will flourish In the way I’ve always supposed to The wildflower is a figment of my own imagination I wish I could say that I am to become one To have the ability To grow Even under the harshest of conditions Leaving my old self behind Blooming out of nowhere In a land far from the madding crowd But it is never that simple This is a war I intend on winning I will not let self-doubt Limit my potential And get away with destroying all that I cherish I will change and so the parts of me That I lose Will always find a way to grow back I may bend and break But we don’t always heal Healing requires time, and time is fickle Pieces of me that were once dismantled Begins to unite themselves Inside my skeleton My failures haunt me from dusk till dawn Yet I fend them off as often as I can
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Feb 3, 2020
Feb 3, 2020 at 1:36 PM UTC
Wildflower
As soon as we are born We’re judged by the size of our bodies We are told to fit in So we may as well settle in But self-doubt is like a declaration of war Once we adhere to society’s norms Within our own flesh Self-doubt creeps in And strangles self-love in its sleep There is turmoil beneath my skin I no longer want a touch of hatred Upon my flawed skin I want to love myself Without feeling delusional I want to be like wildflowers They don't care where they grow And the flowers that I know In the fields where I grew Were content to be lost in the crowd I intend to grow With or without water And bloom With or without sunlight And raise above cracks of the earth in a sunbeam I will flourish In the way I’ve always supposed to The wildflower is a figment of my own imagination I wish I could say that I am to become one To have the ability To grow Even under the harshest of conditions Leaving my old self behind Blooming out of nowhere In a land far from the madding crowd But it is never that simple This is a war I intend on winning I will not let self-doubt Limit my potential And get away with destroying all that I cherish I will change and so the parts of me That I lose Will always find a way to grow back I may bend and break But we don’t always heal Healing requires time, and time is fickle Pieces of me that were once dismantled Begins to unite themselves Inside my skeleton My failures haunt me from dusk till dawn Yet I fend them off as often as I can
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52
Why is the thought of being happy so difficult, so daunting? What is it about the future that frightens me? Perhaps it's my past. I've never been anything more than promising; anything more than two years away from two years away. Happiness for me is a leap of faith, of letting go, of jumping out. It's a surrender of my greatest possession in exchange for some thing I can't even hold in my hand. Death is tangible. Happiness is not. Besides, am I even worthy of it? You've fought hard for so many years You've turned back so many dark thoughts You've saved yourself so many times. You're beyond worthy. Happiness is your reward, even if it's just fleeting, like a breath of fresh air. Don't think about how you got here or where you' re going, just close your eyes, just for a moment, and smile.
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Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 10:11 AM UTC
Beyond worthy
The best day of my life was being alone without craving any of your toxicity
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Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 3:35 PM UTC
Self Love
Have you ever felt sometimes that you were not alive - living a life that has no meaning. A life where the world has come to an end - the kind of ending where colors have disappeared. Have you ever felt sometimes that you were loved but loneliness has suffocated you so much that you could not even feel the warmth of the loved ones anymore? I've always felt like I needed to be strong - for the ones I loved but lately I've felt the strength leaving my bones.  I've felt like I could not give up on the people that surrounded me - but why does my life seems to be so empty? Of all the goals I've achieved the past years - I should be tremendously proud  but the only time I felt really alive was when I took ecstasy. Feeling the rush through my veins again - feeling the music pumping through my heart and soul - I felt like I could die. I felt like I could die of a delusional happiness.  What is happiness? I almost forgot what it was when I met my first love - but when I came back to my senses - when I fell out of love I realized that loving was being able to cope with the solitude within myself. It is about loving yourself and being able to bare with the demons inside of you. I felt like I could go crazy - waking up with this unbearable pain inside of me. I do not know why or how I cannot stand the fact of being by myself - always searching for someone to warm the side of my bed and text me in the morning to feel like - I EXIST.  I AM HERE.  I AM SOMEONE. Deep down I know I don't need someone to tell me who I am - I know I shouldn't find someone to make me feel alive - because it is my responsibility to find my own peace of mind. It is my responsibility to bring myself happiness and joy - but I wish truly to find the strength to move on because I do not want to feel this way anymore. I do not want to feel this empty anymore. I do not want to feel lonely anymore. So please hurry up darling and love yourself already - life is so beautiful please don't give up now. I will always be here for you even when you feel like there is no light, when you feel there is no hope - I will hold your hand. Press it against your heart - feel the heartbeat - feel the life inside your chest. You are here with me and I love you. - Myself
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May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 3:35 AM UTC
Myself
Have you ever felt sometimes that you were not alive - living a life that has no meaning. A life where the world has come to an end - the kind of ending where colors have disappeared. Have you ever felt sometimes that you were loved but loneliness has suffocated you so much that you could not even feel the warmth of the loved ones anymore? I've always felt like I needed to be strong - for the ones I loved but lately I've felt the strength leaving my bones.  I've felt like I could not give up on the people that surrounded me - but why does my life seems to be so empty? Of all the goals I've achieved the past years - I should be tremendously proud  but the only time I felt really alive was when I took ecstasy. Feeling the rush through my veins again - feeling the music pumping through my heart and soul - I felt like I could die. I felt like I could die of a delusional happiness.  What is happiness? I almost forgot what it was when I met my first love - but when I came back to my senses - when I fell out of love I realized that loving was being able to cope with the solitude within myself. It is about loving yourself and being able to bare with the demons inside of you. I felt like I could go crazy - waking up with this unbearable pain inside of me. I do not know why or how I cannot stand the fact of being by myself - always searching for someone to warm the side of my bed and text me in the morning to feel like - I EXIST.  I AM HERE.  I AM SOMEONE. Deep down I know I don't need someone to tell me who I am - I know I shouldn't find someone to make me feel alive - because it is my responsibility to find my own peace of mind. It is my responsibility to bring myself happiness and joy - but I wish truly to find the strength to move on because I do not want to feel this way anymore. I do not want to feel this empty anymore. I do not want to feel lonely anymore. So please hurry up darling and love yourself already - life is so beautiful please don't give up now. I will always be here for you even when you feel like there is no light, when you feel there is no hope - I will hold your hand. Press it against your heart - feel the heartbeat - feel the life inside your chest. You are here with me and I love you. - Myself
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12
Sometimes I wonder what kind of person I would of became, If I wasn't beaten to the ground, If I never touched your lips, I wonder what kind of person I would of became, If mom never left me, If you never teared me apart like another chapter, I wonder sometimes how you felt, during those ****** sleepless nights where you would come back into my room, crying - tearing - hopelessly apologizing. I literally wonder sometimes, Why I felt in love with you The narcissist and me- The victim. I wonder what kind of person I would of became, If you never touched me and did the irreparable- That haunts me everyday, Where I drowned my sorrow in magic potions, warm bodies and dreamy pills - Where I would let the sound of my hallow soul echo between those empty screaming walls. I wonder who I would of became if - If I never felt this beauty deep inside of my heart. Feeling this world - I still remember your eyes gazing into mine- Lost forever into the torment of two empty bodies - Finding each other perfectly at their worse. I wonder sometimes how you felt when you were on your knees begging me to stay - Feeling those bruises on my neck TELL ME HOW DID YOU MAKE ME turn into something - So beautifully broken...       ••• I wonder sometimes, if you saw the shadows of my demons dancing inside my chest- Would you love me? Would you softly kiss the scars inside my heart - Would you hold my hand strongly as I travel the seven seas? Would you my love, Despite my sins, my filthy body and the hell burning my distant dreams... Would you finally stay?         ••• You know I became this person - that writes passionately, Warms people's heart and cry in front of sad movies, I became this late flower that is yet to bloom- But deep inside this garden of thorns, I know a secret that nobody truly knows. I became the most profound - pure and kind women I will ever be - And this is me. I am enough.
0
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 3:04 AM UTC
This is me
Sometimes I wonder what kind of person I would of became, If I wasn't beaten to the ground, If I never touched your lips, I wonder what kind of person I would of became, If mom never left me, If you never teared me apart like another chapter, I wonder sometimes how you felt, during those ****** sleepless nights where you would come back into my room, crying - tearing - hopelessly apologizing. I literally wonder sometimes, Why I felt in love with you The narcissist and me- The victim. I wonder what kind of person I would of became, If you never touched me and did the irreparable- That haunts me everyday, Where I drowned my sorrow in magic potions, warm bodies and dreamy pills - Where I would let the sound of my hallow soul echo between those empty screaming walls. I wonder who I would of became if - If I never felt this beauty deep inside of my heart. Feeling this world - I still remember your eyes gazing into mine- Lost forever into the torment of two empty bodies - Finding each other perfectly at their worse. I wonder sometimes how you felt when you were on your knees begging me to stay - Feeling those bruises on my neck TELL ME HOW DID YOU MAKE ME turn into something - So beautifully broken...       ••• I wonder sometimes, if you saw the shadows of my demons dancing inside my chest- Would you love me? Would you softly kiss the scars inside my heart - Would you hold my hand strongly as I travel the seven seas? Would you my love, Despite my sins, my filthy body and the hell burning my distant dreams... Would you finally stay?         ••• You know I became this person - that writes passionately, Warms people's heart and cry in front of sad movies, I became this late flower that is yet to bloom- But deep inside this garden of thorns, I know a secret that nobody truly knows. I became the most profound - pure and kind women I will ever be - And this is me. I am enough.
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