#spokentruth - Hello Poetry

Little do you know How I learned to cry without a sound Little do you know How I stopped expecting you around Little do you know I was breaking while you held your ground Little do you know I needed you that time Beneath the strength I wore to make you proud Was a child still screaming, not allowed Some nights I survived things I’ll never speak aloud Little do you know I needed you that time I stayed, I stayed When your whole world crashed in waves I stayed When you were drowning in your pain I stayed Put myself last, again and again But little did you see No one ever stayed for me Little do you know I carried burdens not my own Little do you know I fought those battles all alone Little do you know The cracks ran deeper than they’d shown Little do you know I needed you that time You call it distance, call it pride But where were you when I was barely alive? You ask for peace, for things to slide Like nothing ever fractured my mind I’ll heal, I’ll heal But healing doesn’t mean it’s sealed I’ll heal It doesn’t make the past unreal I’ll heal And I won’t shrink to fit what you feel Little do you know Love isn’t silence when someone’s low Little do you know Forgiveness isn’t pretending it didn’t show Little do you know I was the first to show And the last to receive What I gave so freely So little do you know I don’t hate you — I’ve just grown Little do you know I found my strength alone And I won’t beg to be seen anymore.

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Feb 20

Feb 20, 2026 at 5:58 PM UTC

I am InkWept, and I keep myself without apology. I do not offer what is not asked for, nor give what costs my peace. I do not anticipate needs to earn closeness, or shrink to stay included. I meet others where they stand, not where I hope they will arrive. I respond with kindness, not compulsion. I choose clarity over confusion, rest over rescue, silence over self-betrayal. What is meant for me will name me without my chasing. What cannot choose me aloud will not borrow my warmth in secret. I remain open, but not available to be undone. I keep my hands steady. I keep my heart intact. I keep myself.

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Feb 3

Feb 3, 2026 at 4:18 AM UTC

InkWept

PERSONAL BOUNDARY MANTRA The Quiet Keeping

I am InkWept, and I keep myself without apology. I do not offer what is not asked for, nor give what costs my peace. I do not anticipate needs to earn closeness, or shrink to stay included. I meet others where they stand, not where I hope they will arrive. I respond with kindness, not compulsion. I choose clarity over confusion, rest over rescue, silence over self-betrayal. What is meant for me will name me without my chasing. What cannot choose me aloud will not borrow my warmth in secret. I remain open, but not available to be undone. I keep my hands steady. I keep my heart intact. I keep myself.

12

I am InkWept, and this is the truth I will not bargain with: I will no longer lend my warmth to a silence that refuses to name me. I will not be cradled in private and erased in daylight. I am not a pause button for another soul’s healing, nor a harbor rented by the hour. If I am held, it will be with intention. If I am loved, it will be spoken without flinching. If I am asked to wait, it will be for a future that has learned my name aloud. I honor the ache without feeding it. I keep my hands open and my spine straight. I choose peace over proximity, clarity over comfort, truth over tenderness that disappears at dawn. This is not abandonment. This is fidelity—to myself.

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Feb 3

Feb 3, 2026 at 2:56 AM UTC

InkWept

TRUTH STATEMENT Chosen Out Loud, or Not at All

I am InkWept, and this is the truth I will not bargain with: I will no longer lend my warmth to a silence that refuses to name me. I will not be cradled in private and erased in daylight. I am not a pause button for another soul’s healing, nor a harbor rented by the hour. If I am held, it will be with intention. If I am loved, it will be spoken without flinching. If I am asked to wait, it will be for a future that has learned my name aloud. I honor the ache without feeding it. I keep my hands open and my spine straight. I choose peace over proximity, clarity over comfort, truth over tenderness that disappears at dawn. This is not abandonment. This is fidelity—to myself.

12

Rick, your words do not just linger, they carve themselves in time— etched in truth, raw and bitter, yet softened by a poet’s rhyme. "I lie and I lie and I lie" You write not just of deception, but the weight of silence, the cost of peace, where love is masked in quiet restraint, and truth must wait for its release. "but when the truth arrives at that final moment; jaws will drop plates will shatter dogs will growl" Oh, how your verses strike like thunder, unafraid of the coming storm. For in the wreckage of unspoken words, your poetry dares to take its form. "stepfather all that pain and belittlement you served me day and night" Yet you stand unchained, unshaken, forgiveness rising where anger fell. Not just a poet, but a soul unbroken, turning torment into a tale to tell. "but now you stand before me weeping with no teeth and the big man within me has forgiven you." What strength, what grace, what mastery— not in vengeance, but release. A heart that bleeds yet still forgives, finding power in its peace. Rick, your ink is fire, your words are steel, unwavering, untamed, yet so real. A poet who walks the edge of pain, and turns it into art again. May your lines be read, your truth be known, for voices like yours must never go unsown.

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Mar 8, 2025

Mar 8, 2025 at 4:43 AM UTC

Kuch_baatein_khud_se

Ink of Truth, Fire of Soul @Rick

Rick, your words do not just linger, they carve themselves in time— etched in truth, raw and bitter, yet softened by a poet’s rhyme. "I lie and I lie and I lie" You write not just of deception, but the weight of silence, the cost of peace, where love is masked in quiet restraint, and truth must wait for its release. "but when the truth arrives at that final moment; jaws will drop plates will shatter dogs will growl" Oh, how your verses strike like thunder, unafraid of the coming storm. For in the wreckage of unspoken words, your poetry dares to take its form. "stepfather all that pain and belittlement you served me day and night" Yet you stand unchained, unshaken, forgiveness rising where anger fell. Not just a poet, but a soul unbroken, turning torment into a tale to tell. "but now you stand before me weeping with no teeth and the big man within me has forgiven you." What strength, what grace, what mastery— not in vengeance, but release. A heart that bleeds yet still forgives, finding power in its peace. Rick, your ink is fire, your words are steel, unwavering, untamed, yet so real. A poet who walks the edge of pain, and turns it into art again. May your lines be read, your truth be known, for voices like yours must never go unsown.

49

It's all about the filter And not personality. It's all about the cake make up , And not the true beauty. It's all about the wcw All about the body shape, Promoting beauty Looking like a product. No longer human, not advertising the mind. Hair hair everywhere from Brazilian to Indian Comparing who rocks it best. Looking like mermaids with seaweed dye on it, It's all about a cool dance , dumb lyrics and a hot beat , Not real music about life Just a free promotion of **** money and ******* Making the world go crazy. Believing this is the way life is, Get high or die. It's all about social media and not putting the phone down to enjoy nature. The outside , has now become the phone. All about linking up but not wanting a relationship Just a friend with benefits. Hiding our heart in our sleeves. Not expressing our feelings . We are trying to impress the world When truly a bit of us dies every minute. We are being judged by the social media Twerking, Doing the fire challenge. And tryna beat everyone in the dumbest challenge, just so we can get new followers , retweets and praises. Instead of reading a book and learning something new. Or trying to achieve our dreams. We're not even working hard no more. We are becoming slaves to the media. That we don't seem to realise , that we lost our identity. We were made original but most of us are dying as a copy of another. We no longer have our unique colour. We are all blending in. Smoking marijuana because it's cool and you will be accepted by the society. But what happened to being ourselves? Being loud Being funny Being caring Or taking our time to show affection to one another. We are no longer happy with the reflection we see in the mirror. We are losing ourselves, We've become so lazy. We're not inspired no more. Or respected We are so focused on living the now , with no idea how that will affect us tomorrow. But at the end of the day, we must remember that most of the people we try and please . Will not be there , in your times of need and pain. Or bury you . Why??because we have become the lost generation. 2014. It's time to wake up!

0

Aug 11, 2014

Aug 11, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC

lucia-domingos-fula

2014

It's all about the filter And not personality. It's all about the cake make up , And not the true beauty. It's all about the wcw All about the body shape, Promoting beauty Looking like a product. No longer human, not advertising the mind. Hair hair everywhere from Brazilian to Indian Comparing who rocks it best. Looking like mermaids with seaweed dye on it, It's all about a cool dance , dumb lyrics and a hot beat , Not real music about life Just a free promotion of **** money and ******* Making the world go crazy. Believing this is the way life is, Get high or die. It's all about social media and not putting the phone down to enjoy nature. The outside , has now become the phone. All about linking up but not wanting a relationship Just a friend with benefits. Hiding our heart in our sleeves. Not expressing our feelings . We are trying to impress the world When truly a bit of us dies every minute. We are being judged by the social media Twerking, Doing the fire challenge. And tryna beat everyone in the dumbest challenge, just so we can get new followers , retweets and praises. Instead of reading a book and learning something new. Or trying to achieve our dreams. We're not even working hard no more. We are becoming slaves to the media. That we don't seem to realise , that we lost our identity. We were made original but most of us are dying as a copy of another. We no longer have our unique colour. We are all blending in. Smoking marijuana because it's cool and you will be accepted by the society. But what happened to being ourselves? Being loud Being funny Being caring Or taking our time to show affection to one another. We are no longer happy with the reflection we see in the mirror. We are losing ourselves, We've become so lazy. We're not inspired no more. Or respected We are so focused on living the now , with no idea how that will affect us tomorrow. But at the end of the day, we must remember that most of the people we try and please . Will not be there , in your times of need and pain. Or bury you . Why??because we have become the lost generation. 2014. It's time to wake up!

54