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#startingover
I thought healing would feel like sunlight… Warm, a scorching light that would heat the coldness embedded within my soul I thought healing would feel like wind A gentle breeze, grasping my face like the lingering hand of love A gust of air, inflating my lungs with a gasping breath thirsting for life I thought healing would feel water Refreshing, like a baptism into a new life having cleansed my essence of the past I thought healing would feel Empowering Healing feels like sunlight Searing, savagely burning who I was While I’m trying to be who I am To become who I am meant to be Healing feels like wind A squall, enduring and persisting Caterwauls themselves can not break through to the world around me Only the gust itself can be heard in the soundscape Healing feels like water An undertow sweeping away the stability I once had Drowning me in the very repressed remnants of what I had thought were long gone The silt choking me as I’m swept further from where I once was Healing Feels like Rebirth When we are born we come into this world in pain, screaming, crying, desperately trying to return to what was once our home The light hits your face, your lungs fill with air, all after being born through broken water If being born hurts how could I expect being reborn to be painless I have been reborn Now it’s time to GROW
0
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 11:13 PM UTC
To Heal is to
The road stretched long after my feet learned their first uncertain truths. Days blurred into pale horizons, and nights pressed in with a cold that felt less like weather and more like the world testing how badly I wanted to continue. I walked through valleys where the wind whispered old accusations. Past barren fields where the earth seemed to judge every step I took with its quiet, unblinking patience. There were crossroads that offered comfort only to withdraw it. Doors that opened just far enough for me to see what warmth was, before closing as if to say, “Not you. Not yet.” Every place I tried felt like a room built for people who still had their armor their shine, their certainty, their practiced ways of belonging. My bare presence made the air awkward. Made the floors creak. Made me feel like a traveler who had forgotten the language everyone else still spoke. The cold tightened its grip. My breath grew thin. And in those long stretches of frost I understood that the world does not welcome the unarmored easily. It demands endurance before it offers shelter. And then through a gap in the trees a glow. A soft, steady light, unlike the bright, defensive lanterns of the other places. This light felt like memory, like recognition, like something calling me by a name I hadn’t earned but somehow belonged to. The building stood alone, weathered and quiet, with a kind of patience that suggested it had waited for everyone who had ever arrived there. A simple sign hung above the door: Sinners Lodge I stepped inside, expecting the familiar hush that sharp pause that follows a stranger into a guarded room. But nothing stopped. No one stared. The warmth did not shrink away from my unsteady presence. A voice near the fire —calm, unstartled— said without looking up: “You can let down your armor here.” Even though I carried none, my chest loosened as if something I’d held too tightly finally recognized it could rest. There were no tests here. No rooms designed to expose my flaws. No cold edge of judgment waiting behind the warmth. Only a quiet truth: this was not a place for the perfect. It was a refuge for those who had walked far enough to shed the illusions that once carried them. In the dim firelight, I felt the weight of the journey settle not on me, but beside me as if saying: “You made it. Not because you were flawless, but because you kept walking.” I let the warmth enter my hands, slow and grounding, and for the first time in a long wander, I felt sheltered without having to earn it. Unarmored Unafraid And finally awake.
0
Nov 20, 2025
Nov 20, 2025 at 6:59 PM UTC
Sinners Lodge
The road stretched long after my feet learned their first uncertain truths. Days blurred into pale horizons, and nights pressed in with a cold that felt less like weather and more like the world testing how badly I wanted to continue. I walked through valleys where the wind whispered old accusations. Past barren fields where the earth seemed to judge every step I took with its quiet, unblinking patience. There were crossroads that offered comfort only to withdraw it. Doors that opened just far enough for me to see what warmth was, before closing as if to say, “Not you. Not yet.” Every place I tried felt like a room built for people who still had their armor their shine, their certainty, their practiced ways of belonging. My bare presence made the air awkward. Made the floors creak. Made me feel like a traveler who had forgotten the language everyone else still spoke. The cold tightened its grip. My breath grew thin. And in those long stretches of frost I understood that the world does not welcome the unarmored easily. It demands endurance before it offers shelter. And then through a gap in the trees a glow. A soft, steady light, unlike the bright, defensive lanterns of the other places. This light felt like memory, like recognition, like something calling me by a name I hadn’t earned but somehow belonged to. The building stood alone, weathered and quiet, with a kind of patience that suggested it had waited for everyone who had ever arrived there. A simple sign hung above the door: Sinners Lodge I stepped inside, expecting the familiar hush that sharp pause that follows a stranger into a guarded room. But nothing stopped. No one stared. The warmth did not shrink away from my unsteady presence. A voice near the fire —calm, unstartled— said without looking up: “You can let down your armor here.” Even though I carried none, my chest loosened as if something I’d held too tightly finally recognized it could rest. There were no tests here. No rooms designed to expose my flaws. No cold edge of judgment waiting behind the warmth. Only a quiet truth: this was not a place for the perfect. It was a refuge for those who had walked far enough to shed the illusions that once carried them. In the dim firelight, I felt the weight of the journey settle not on me, but beside me as if saying: “You made it. Not because you were flawless, but because you kept walking.” I let the warmth enter my hands, slow and grounding, and for the first time in a long wander, I felt sheltered without having to earn it. Unarmored Unafraid And finally awake.
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108
I’m going to live in a small apartment, letting go of everything we built together. And it hurts— it’s not easy. It stings like running a marathon and, just as I thought I was near the finish line, realizing I’d taken the wrong exit and now have to go all the way back. I’m too tired to start over with someone else. But I shouldn’t think about that now. I should start over for me.
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Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 6:00 PM UTC
Starting Over
(on the ten-year anniversary of leaving home) without looking back, she boarded a flight, concealing that piercing anxiety. to soothe the ache, packed her language as a guide, weeping quietly for her country. recognition came in tears, stretched paper-thin— that her home couldn’t yet grasp that love begins within. the early years, under flickering lights, were spent seeking solace. with inner voices softly humming— inhaling cheap wine, books as her compass— enough to outweigh not belonging. some nights, she danced until her heels worn the skin away, bleeding her truth into tile, whilst friends, thick as thieves, melted into laughter, and gin. she loved badly, lit candles to soften the silence that screamed louder at 3 a.m., scribbled poetry on the walls of her soul— long forgotten, left forsaken. her twenties were a strange gift, she never thought to ask for, memories scattered down the hallway, like spilled drinks, laced with honesty. sometimes the weight is still sore, and yet she’s walking, barefoot, unfolding.
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Jun 19, 2025
Jun 19, 2025 at 10:23 AM UTC
...not yet a woman
Today, I Saw a Woman Today, I saw a woman I’d never be, Carrying a seed not meant for her. A woman who let him back inside, Though once he broke her, crushed her pride. I saw her weary, heavy with weight, Her dreams postponed, left up to fate. Her beauty dimmed, her spirit worn, A love returned, but not reborn. She bore the scars, the silent cries, The lessons learned through tear-stained eyes. She watched him change, but far too late, Only when pain had sealed her fate. But today, I saw her for the last time... Because tomorrow, Tomorrow, she'll rise, she'll climb. Tomorrow, I’ll see a woman bold, A heart unshaken, fierce and gold. A woman who hopes for a daughter's grace, A love that time cannot erase. A woman who dares, who dreams, who flies, Who finds her home beneath wide skies. And if love returns, it will be sure, Not one she begs, but one that's pure. And nothing, not sorrow, not doubt, not fear- Will break the woman standing here. For that woman is me.
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Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 10:11 AM UTC
So, today I saw this woman...
She is The One That Got Away This is who she is to him now Who she is to herself It is newly tattooed on her soul This new identity She became this despite his best efforts Countless words to trick her into believing she was The One That Stayed Clever words, to confuse her and cloud reality Soft words, to flatter and ****** Sharp words, to cut, to make her bleed out her resolve She used to be The One That Stayed She played that part for many years Until the stars aligned illuminating the path to a new role A role many have died trying to get She made it out and got away Not all at once Slowly Piece by piece First, her heart Until she was numb She felt nothing during his declarations of love, Emotionless during his promises of change All his tearful pleading simply echoed in her hollowed out chest Then her body Fleeing to the strong arms of her sisters To the safe house of a friend Then to a new home among long grasses and tall trees Finally, her head got away Like sand from an hourglass, his lies emptied out Making room for beauty, the healing wisdom of her helpers, the power of her truth Yes, she is The One That Got Away The judge issued an order to legally make it so The officers took him away when he refused to believe it Another judge declared it again And her new last name tells it to the world For all new tomorrows and all of today She is and will remain The One That Got Away © 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.
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Mar 2, 2025
Mar 2, 2025 at 6:50 PM UTC
The One That Got Away
We often fail to realize That we are always at a cross roads Gazing at the unrelenting precipice Of decision and consequence Each moment one away From falling farther or rising above
0
Nov 25, 2024
Nov 25, 2024 at 1:51 PM UTC
First Law
they say its easier said than done. i say, not poetry. it's easier done than said.
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Nov 18, 2024
Nov 18, 2024 at 1:12 AM UTC
easier done!
give me a break! sometimes, it’s too much to take. the winds have not been kind to me, for i am the dark horse in your wicked games. i’m making my way, often slaving away given a chance to start over, i’d choose not to play. ‘it is what it is’, i say, and let it be. i sacrificed my youth at the altar of perfection, thinking, ‘how bad can it be?’ i try to be, more than eyes can see. but I’m just a shadow of a terrified kid, hiding behind my fallen dreams. it’s all so dull, the colours have faded - i couldn’t do much when the demons invaded. i’ve been dragging their chains for far too long, never whole, never free. i’m sorry! i’m just not used to it, like i used to be.   yet i see a light, though not as bright it flickers every night, telling me to put up a fight. i must protect it from the ungodly winds, lest it should die somewhere deep inside.   but i'm only human, my friend. please don't be so hard on me. i'm tired of losing sleep over the promises I could never keep. there's no way out, it seems. guess i'm in too deep. **** it! i’d rather be the dark horse than the black sheep. do me a favour, please don't lose your faith in me! i locked away the things i loved, and now i can't seem to find the key. i'll be back before you know it, ready to go again, on the count of three. just give me a break! i’m not used to it, like i used to be.
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Nov 17, 2024
Nov 17, 2024 at 11:13 AM UTC
i'm not used to it, like i used to be.
Maybe we can try again Take the storm away from rain hide the hurt from the pain Maybe we can just try again Maybe we could begin right now not ask why, just know how Place the promise back in the vow Maybe we can start right now Let’s start now before it’s late Hold love so tight , we squeeze the hate Push back time away from fate Maybe even now, before it’s too late This one thing I know for sure Let’s both take less, ask nothing more Don’t question when or what for? Maybe then, where we’ll know for sure.
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Aug 16, 2024
Aug 16, 2024 at 10:13 AM UTC
Now Never
I've got the pedal to the metal on a highway to hell. Gotta keep my eyes on the road. Only time will tell. I struggle and suffer through each passing day. Gotta change my route, Gotta change my ways. I see the exits that are off to my right, as each lonely day shrivels into night. The hands of the clock aggressively tick. No time to decide, I've gotta be quick. The exit sign reads "green pastures, still waters ahead". Gotta decide, or else I'll be dead. The sun rises in the east and sets in west, foolishly speeding forward at least I'm trying my best. Ignoring the signs warning "danger ahead!". I've gotta turn off, or else Ill be dead. So focused, so determined, to barrel ahead. Why can't I stop? Why don't I hit the brake? Its right there! Turn off for Gods sake! "Still waters, green pastures ahead". I rush along as if nothings been said. "Excuse me, Lord? What did you say?" As I struggle and suffer through each passing day. "I've told you once and I've told you twice. Is there really a need for you to be told thrice?" I say "No Lord, the sign is there, I see. No need for a thrice, the problem is me. The sun rises from the east and sets in the West, you know Lord, at least I'm trying my best." "Still waters, green pastures ahead". With deaf ears I've heard it all said. Barreling forward. Soon Ill be dead. "Still waters, green pastures ahead."
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Oct 21, 2020
Oct 21, 2020 at 8:31 AM UTC
Still Waters - Green Pastures
A new beginning; A do over. Time does not stand still But instead moves rather slowly and sneaks right up on you. I blink and everything is changing; In a hundred, wonderful different shades of blue.
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Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 10:50 PM UTC
Blue Collector
He handed out love Like it was an object In a gift-wrapped box With gift receipt taped on After few times use They went to the store They got a full refund He never got back What he freely gave I’m still young He thought I’m just enjoying life He thought I really care about those women He thought I’m being honest about my feelings He thought I’ll find the right one this way He thought Twenty-eight women later He was more degraded Than ever before The number wasn’t impressive He certainly wasn’t proud He’d rather it roll back To zero or maybe one or two At the most. Only those few First cuts who left their mark Were still on his mind from Time to time or all the time Depending on how honest He was on that particular day He’s a suicide case He feels sick to his stomach Unsteady, faint, vertigo He falls - falls - has fallen He feels a hand at his neck His chest tight like a rope Was wrapped around it Tied to a pick up truck And drove forwards at full speed Clutching him ever tighter His breath sapped from his lungs “I only want to be a better man A better man than I am To live and not to fear To thrive on happiness Not fall into the same old trap Of mortal hungers” These words loop in his head Like a broken record Light fades from his eyes A ringing floods his ears Like the dial-tone of an old phone Left hanging on the cord When a call is long over The choice is his to try again His alone Either to live on - or - To die a lump on the stone cold floor He starts to cry He’s full of fear - but - No one’s half as anxious as the crowd
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Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 2:33 AM UTC
Crowd
He handed out love Like it was an object In a gift-wrapped box With gift receipt taped on After few times use They went to the store They got a full refund He never got back What he freely gave I’m still young He thought I’m just enjoying life He thought I really care about those women He thought I’m being honest about my feelings He thought I’ll find the right one this way He thought Twenty-eight women later He was more degraded Than ever before The number wasn’t impressive He certainly wasn’t proud He’d rather it roll back To zero or maybe one or two At the most. Only those few First cuts who left their mark Were still on his mind from Time to time or all the time Depending on how honest He was on that particular day He’s a suicide case He feels sick to his stomach Unsteady, faint, vertigo He falls - falls - has fallen He feels a hand at his neck His chest tight like a rope Was wrapped around it Tied to a pick up truck And drove forwards at full speed Clutching him ever tighter His breath sapped from his lungs “I only want to be a better man A better man than I am To live and not to fear To thrive on happiness Not fall into the same old trap Of mortal hungers” These words loop in his head Like a broken record Light fades from his eyes A ringing floods his ears Like the dial-tone of an old phone Left hanging on the cord When a call is long over The choice is his to try again His alone Either to live on - or - To die a lump on the stone cold floor He starts to cry He’s full of fear - but - No one’s half as anxious as the crowd
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65
I’m standing here Naked and bare To you And to the world. I haven’t been ready. I’ve been dancing in meadows With my eyes shut tight And covering myself In hand-me-down clothes. But I’m not dancing anymore. I’ve shed the scraps Of ripped up cloth And my skin Along with them. My eyes are open. I’m listening now. I’m ready to see What you have To show me. I’m ready to hear What you have To tell me.
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Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 9:39 AM UTC
I’m Here
The deepest beginnings start by wading through shallow waters
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Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 9:47 AM UTC
Wading
It's been 30 years since I've had to think about these things. A long time between lovers, infatuations, and flings. While the players are new, their roles have stayed true. (Yet I find myself lost; don't remember this cost!) As I relearn the rules of woo.
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Dec 26, 2019
Dec 26, 2019 at 9:24 PM UTC
Rules of Woo
If I could have one last conversation with you A final day in the sunshine I'd tell you I love you for the first time and the last. If there's one more thing I could teach you It would be that the way you're living armoured alone unforgiving is no way to live. But I'd say it in my head, send it through my exhales in the hopes it subconsciously reaches your ears, so as not to ruin the present moment. We're sitting in silence knees touching bodies leaning into each other so it all hurts less You'd stroke my eyelashes as they flutter with your fingertips I can't remember what your laugh sounds like anymore I can picture you laughing, but it's like a silent movie But I remember how your voice sounds as it cracks through your tears And I can see your restlessness even with my eyes open. I can feel your sadness Its weight I can still see imprinted on my love seat If I could tell you one more story about myself, To the version of you that was still open like a sunflower so willing to receive I would tell you that I'm tired of being scared done with hiding my need to be protected so tired of staying up all night guarding my own heart. I may require affection and love more than you're used to giving but you have seen my love move mountains for free and I need just once for someone to do the same for me. If I could meet you for the first time one last time I would share with you that I see your fears and I honour them sooner than I did before. I'd tell you you're safe here I would believe who you said you were the first time. If I were to say goodbye to you again a do-over an un-doing I would sit fully in that moment with you and thank you for your honesty forgive you for your shortcomings Accepting that you never really unpacked your bags Even though in my mind, we had already grown old together.
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Sep 16, 2019
Sep 16, 2019 at 12:19 PM UTC
Un-Doings
If I could have one last conversation with you A final day in the sunshine I'd tell you I love you for the first time and the last. If there's one more thing I could teach you It would be that the way you're living armoured alone unforgiving is no way to live. But I'd say it in my head, send it through my exhales in the hopes it subconsciously reaches your ears, so as not to ruin the present moment. We're sitting in silence knees touching bodies leaning into each other so it all hurts less You'd stroke my eyelashes as they flutter with your fingertips I can't remember what your laugh sounds like anymore I can picture you laughing, but it's like a silent movie But I remember how your voice sounds as it cracks through your tears And I can see your restlessness even with my eyes open. I can feel your sadness Its weight I can still see imprinted on my love seat If I could tell you one more story about myself, To the version of you that was still open like a sunflower so willing to receive I would tell you that I'm tired of being scared done with hiding my need to be protected so tired of staying up all night guarding my own heart. I may require affection and love more than you're used to giving but you have seen my love move mountains for free and I need just once for someone to do the same for me. If I could meet you for the first time one last time I would share with you that I see your fears and I honour them sooner than I did before. I'd tell you you're safe here I would believe who you said you were the first time. If I were to say goodbye to you again a do-over an un-doing I would sit fully in that moment with you and thank you for your honesty forgive you for your shortcomings Accepting that you never really unpacked your bags Even though in my mind, we had already grown old together.
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50
I can't understand why I cant let him in Hes been nothing but kind But I'm stuck in my own skin How could he see me As beautiful and brave? I've lived in this body long enough And believe me it always caves. He can't look at me without smiling And its contagious, I do the same I want to know so much more about him What he hides from the world, what makes him afraid. I want to let my walls down for him But I'm so afraid to let him in I'm actually a lot to handle most days When he sees the real me theres no way I'll win I keep telling him I am messy I'm not sure he understands what that really means How can I explain how most days I hate myself And there are days I feel like I'm torn apart inside of me. How do I let someone new in With all the baggage I come along with I'm not sure where to even begin I should probably just quit. If theres one thing I'm good at Its self destruction at best I know hes gonna see that soon. I guess for now I'll give it a rest.
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Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 5:01 PM UTC
How soon is too soon?
I'm surrounded by these four walls, My thoughts bouncing off of them; Loud and clear. I find comfort in these four walls, Knowing that my cries for help never leave, That when I wail at night no one can get to me. I also feel trapped by these four walls, They make me feel small, The white colour blinding me when I come up for air each time. But these four walls know me better than anyone else here, They know the real me. Because when I leave these four walls every morning, I leave as a new me.
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Jul 4, 2019
Jul 4, 2019 at 12:19 AM UTC
four walls
Sun dried pages of a book you've carried around long before the first day your father picked you up and you felt what it meant to be free. The cover scratched from the cobblestone walkway leading up to your front door, the one where mom always greeted you with a smile that defined the meaning of home. Coffee stained corners from the first all nighter you pulled, the day you learned to keep your thoughts tucked away inside your bag instead of out in the open where drinks and feelings are easily spilled. Two covers stuffed with a life times worth of letters arranged into stories that haven't felt like your own in years. Paper filled with unfamiliar feelings flee your fingertips and you realize, you haven't been concerned with holding on for a while now anyway. Sometimes the pages stop making sense, and all that's left to do is drop the book completely and create a new one.                 And you use what you learned,                                     but leave it behind
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Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 7:32 PM UTC
Pages of Life