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#selfreliance
I can't wait to say goodbye to everybody. I can't wait to have nobody On my back, cancer In my life. Aloneness is the light of my dreams I cut through like jungle vines With Anaklusmos. These buzzards eclipse the sun in their circling Black wings outreaching Every flying arrow. I try to be good: I speak, I talk, I chat, I try. But, with people, as Opposed to poetry, These words never really speak to me.
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Oct 15, 2025
Oct 15, 2025 at 10:42 PM UTC
To Say Goodbye
In twilight realms where masks adorn like stars, The moon casts her glow most tenderly Upon those who dance unadorned by pretense, Their radiance deemed too bright for mortal eyes. Your empathy—a garden of midnight blooms, Protected by the trellis of sacred boundaries, Not to wither beneath harsh judgment's sun, But to preserve your light for worthy wanderers. Those who carved rivers of sorrow in your soul Yet deny the waters flowing from their hands Cannot offer reconciliation's sweet nectar. Peace resides not in their distant approval, But sleeps beside you, faithful as moonlight, A companion through your darkest hours. The distance woven between pain and present Is gossamer silk that must not be torn. Breaking patterns is the dance of dawn, The first light dissolving night's heavy chains, Your silhouette fading like morning mist From doorways where love never flourished. In authenticity dwells your freedom's poetry— No longer folding your boundless spirit Into shapes too small to hold your vastness, Standing unveiled in your own sacred truth. Touch not the fragile wings of survivors in flight— Their path traced through storms of betrayal, The space they've claimed between wound and healing Is hallowed ground won through countless tears. Make peace with misunderstanding's shadow, Release the weight of constant explanation, For your truth blooms most beautifully When nurtured in soil that welcomes its roots.
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May 19, 2025
May 19, 2025 at 11:31 AM UTC
Wishpers of Authentic Souls
If one day you break, too tired to cope, And search the dark for hands of hope Don’t reach for theirs, they come and go, With fleeting warmth and faces you don’t know. Just lift your left and find your right, The one that’s stayed through every fight. Your other hand, scarred, quiet, true Has carried all that life gave you. It wiped your tears when no one cared, It held your chest when pain was bared. No vow, no oath, no distant friend Can match the grip it dares to lend. So fold your fingers, let them bind, And trust the touch you always find. For storms may rage and trials descend But none defeat the hand you lend. The world breaks many, but never the one Who learns to stand with hands of one.
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May 11, 2025
May 11, 2025 at 3:59 AM UTC
The Other Hand
Hey, little frog on your pad in a pond surveying your kingdom green You don’t have a golden ball, no princess came to call and these lily pads are all you’ve seen You’re just fine in your domain and have no reason to complain with your fine banquet of flies that teem So you sit strong and alone on your very own green throne — just now swims up a queen
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Oct 12, 2024
Oct 12, 2024 at 4:52 PM UTC
Splash
Part II: Atmosphere Every cut Every burn Another remembrance of self harm. I found faith Not in words Not in religion I found faith in my heart God was never on my side But I forgave a long time ago Screaming into the atmosphere I let my fears go I let my hatred die Heaven was never in my sights If I'm going to Hell I'll go out with a bang The memories are what have kept me going I'm a soldier I'm a fighter I'm claiming my throne I won't give up I'll never give in.
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Dec 9, 2020
Dec 9, 2020 at 7:59 AM UTC
Part II: Atmosphere
Call me a medicine man, and yeah, I'll be there for you sure, dedicated to you only, to help the one without a cure.     Once I step inside your heart     you'll begin to doze off, and those shaky hands will be soothed while letting your head rock to and fro; can't be helped. You'd be my tiny little sleepyhead holding that little dose in your palm     and you'll soon wander off     deep into the neverland of your own version, forgetful of human senses: the striking smell, the taste to savour, the sound the music that is ever whimsical, the bright light and the dim dark. And I reckon you already like it all surrounded by the forgetfulness —the numbing sensations nullifying your will to rise, and the pleasure finds shelter within you.     Then in your dream     you start to want me more,     not knowing the impending consequences     of forgetting all about yourself, of drowning further into the river that we all call the sorrow, and of falling faster and farther until you know nowhere to return. I call out "Wakey-wakey," then, prying open your eyes and every doors that'll lead you outside with haste —the light shines upon your pupils still drowned in tears, bewildered, with your legs wobbling. Yet you're no longer my sleepyhead anyway,     so walk on, off with you,     carry on with your stiff legs     —though you pretty much look like     you'll need a stick just to stand upright -     and do come see me     if you ever need me again.
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Sep 10, 2020
Sep 10, 2020 at 2:51 AM UTC
Medicine Man
Call me a medicine man, and yeah, I'll be there for you sure, dedicated to you only, to help the one without a cure.     Once I step inside your heart     you'll begin to doze off, and those shaky hands will be soothed while letting your head rock to and fro; can't be helped. You'd be my tiny little sleepyhead holding that little dose in your palm     and you'll soon wander off     deep into the neverland of your own version, forgetful of human senses: the striking smell, the taste to savour, the sound the music that is ever whimsical, the bright light and the dim dark. And I reckon you already like it all surrounded by the forgetfulness —the numbing sensations nullifying your will to rise, and the pleasure finds shelter within you.     Then in your dream     you start to want me more,     not knowing the impending consequences     of forgetting all about yourself, of drowning further into the river that we all call the sorrow, and of falling faster and farther until you know nowhere to return. I call out "Wakey-wakey," then, prying open your eyes and every doors that'll lead you outside with haste —the light shines upon your pupils still drowned in tears, bewildered, with your legs wobbling. Yet you're no longer my sleepyhead anyway,     so walk on, off with you,     carry on with your stiff legs     —though you pretty much look like     you'll need a stick just to stand upright -     and do come see me     if you ever need me again.
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42
I’m no longer a little pup. In all aspects, I’ve grown up. Self reliance is not a right to me. It’s a requirement, what I have to be.
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Jan 9, 2020
Jan 9, 2020 at 11:32 PM UTC
[exit stage left]
A reflection is shadow made of light. I look at myself. “Who you trying to fight?“ You know he’s crooked cause his head is cocked. It’s rebellion. His past is in flames, he’s a hellion. That’s why he don’t hear what they be tellin him. He hears his own music. He let’s it in, he grooves it. It flows through his body when he moves it. You can always be happy if you choose it. Listen to the dope beats and keep a couple close to your throne seat. It’s emotion in wave form. There is no rawer art or rarer reward. For if you truly listen changes will start in the you-est you. I was shocked too but I swear, it’s true. All sorts of things will change you, if you let them.
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Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 5:34 PM UTC
Ch-ch-changes
be your own anchor learn to sail your own sea leave behind what has hurt you welcome what makes you feel free
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Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 5:50 PM UTC
be your own anchor
Me, myself, and I Life is like the sun It goes up and down and around Good days and bad days I trust myself and know my place Outside of society as it is a danger to all I must think for myself and not conform as they do The world’s opinion is not my own And thus need not be acknowledged Like Galileo and Newton I am misunderstood but I know who I am Fortune is my friend and is with me but I am all I need
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Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 12:28 AM UTC
Me, myself, and I
"Stop yelling at me," I tell the walls, as if they were the culprit. Stop keeping time with my fingernails, tracing squares in chalkboard wallpaper. I have forgotten you. If only you would forget me. You trace lines on my skin, Like a cartography of forgotten myth. "Don't tell me what to think." You don't own me. "Don't tell me how to feel." That is a priviledge you no longer possess. "Leave me alone, Old friend." Leave me be.
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Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 6:34 PM UTC
Dante's Doors
I used to think that all I wanted was someone to love me, someone to give me all their warmth and trust and sympathy. The more I sit here in this empty room beside a window, the more I realize that that kind of life ain't meant for me. I'm making friends with all the shadows climbing on my rooftop, and I hear music in the leaves that rustle in the wind. And I dont need no pity, girl, I kinda like the struggle. Like feeling 'round for the doorknob when the lights are dimmed. Each day someone will call and offer me a new solution, and while I do respect the depths of their true concern, they have to realize solitude and silence both are virtues - but that's a lesson that I hope they never need to learn.
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Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
Purdah
Sometimes I trust my instinct, but it tells me to do things in ways that no one dares It can implore me there, to take paths no one walks I fear the fresh footsteps I make on the new brick road I'm a social animal, a human; doing what others do seems the right thing to do Once you're a bit different, society condemns They raise an eyebrow, they don't give their consent; But I've seen great people do great things Because they had faith in their instincts. They have the drive to keep going, To try and even fail. I'd very much like to do the same, At least I have real control over my own doings. If I succeed, I have only my instincts to celebrate. If I fail, I have only my flaws to blame. Everything under my possession, Ne te quaesiveris extra, as they say It's your life to do, your life to bear.
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Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 1:02 PM UTC
Trust your own instincts.
No one can save me I'm cornered, anxious The clock is Beating along My racing heart No one can save me, My pillow is rugged The window Keeps the prairy world From flooding in No one can save me, I'm hesitant, indignant But I'm determined No one can save me, But me
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Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 8:58 AM UTC
No one can save me
Turned to stone Colors fade everyday  Surrounded alone Wear a smile Memories to get through I can get lost finding you
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Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 5:12 AM UTC
I Can Get Lost Finding you
A plane Drifting through the wind, the rain In its own dimension, it’s own plain The sky of the Caribbean Lust and meaning- Scattered throughout its passages Yet it carries itself Sure in its own capacity Divinity and celestial depth Self sustained Capable, gliding Without real definite meaning. Lights go down Thunder strikes all around- Wings fly, in spite, Trajectory shaking its hefty massed might And in the moment, the path it glides and follows Sure in its travels- Shakes and quivers Stutters a bit And is lost amongst all other possibilities. Tonight is a weird night Will it make its flight? -These wings fly and glide onward The stars will guide tonight Skyward And let the plane fall back in place In the Caribbean Where it may have lost its pace Yet, nay It will make its own mark In its own distance Amongst the sparks And constant side shots Reliance, it remarks- On its own Donning inspiration To the wind And fellow offspring-
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Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
Plane
Life Without Resentment Nearly everyone has stored among hardbacks and paperbacks or dusty mental drawers resentments, gathered incidentally unintentionally or by rubbing shoulders with ingrates and other irritating souls Meeting her, she exudes an excitement for what is said while displaying an openness a self-reliance that disallows any acrimony indignation or animosity No bitterness is harbored nor rancor secreted among the ruins of her disappointments Not long-suffering the past is forgiven and forgotten Not apprehensive or perturbed she treads in this moment with the power of living in the present no longer feeling victimized She lives refreshed, restored without resentment
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Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 3:19 PM UTC
A Life Without Resentment
She walks with me, quietly alongside, taking my hand when I'm scared, and when I'm wild giving me freedom to fly. She holds my tears in her palm, encourages me to stay strong, lifts the darkness when I'm dreary and fights my demons when I fall. She's part angel, part friend, part mother, part zen, she is warrior, inner peace, she is love, she is me.
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Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 1:24 PM UTC
She Walks With Me
I had no No in my vocabulary, No veto power, No nix, no nullity, no negation. I was the King of Affirmation, Yes to this, yes to that. I thought No would cut me off from love, Friendship, belonging. I couldn’t say that word to anyone, Not nobody not nohow. I was the Wizard of Yes. The Emperor of Agreement. The Yes Man to the universe. What was I? A character in someone else’s play, Puppeting my way through life, Following a program I did not write. I had to have a word that was my own, A firm, strong, stubborn word, To crash the program, buck the tide. Now I’m ready to know No. For No has that stopping power. No is the Final Word. No tells you in no uncertain terms, What you really want. This is me, it says. These are my boundaries. This is my true and real self. I’m in love with No. No, No, No, No, No, No. I like the way I say it, and I know That only by shouting my No Can I say Yes to Me.
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Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 2:02 PM UTC
Getting To No
I'm not a princess, I don't need saving It's only your love on my heart that needs engraving I'm not a damsel in distress Only your love can impress There's no golden locks for you to climb Only my heart that you must find There's no dragon that needs slaying Just your love is all I'm craving There's no castle walls to scale Only true love will prevail I don't need your money or gold I can't be bought or sold I can stand on my own two feet I'm not like most women that you meet I'm one of a kind, I am unique It's only your sweet love that I seek
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Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 8:52 AM UTC
Not a Princess
Today I'm fresh Today I am new I am feeling around in the dark, but it's only my hands It's only my voice that answers the queries I knew something was wrong when I looked for your voice before my own When I wanted your hands in case my clumsy pair failed I was living my life through you So, one set of hands and one voice ringing through the dark is the answer And I answered I am all I need
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Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 2:54 AM UTC
Right