#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
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 11:13 PM UTC
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.
Nov 20, 2025
Nov 20, 2025 at 6:59 PM UTC
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.
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 6:00 PM UTC
(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.
Jun 19, 2025
Jun 19, 2025 at 10:23 AM UTC
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.
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 10:11 AM UTC
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.
Mar 2, 2025
Mar 2, 2025 at 6:50 PM UTC
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
Nov 25, 2024
Nov 25, 2024 at 1:51 PM UTC
they say its easier said than done.
i say, not poetry.
it's easier done than said.
Nov 18, 2024
Nov 18, 2024 at 1:12 AM UTC
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.
Nov 17, 2024
Nov 17, 2024 at 11:13 AM UTC
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.
Aug 16, 2024
Aug 16, 2024 at 10:13 AM UTC
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."
Oct 21, 2020
Oct 21, 2020 at 8:31 AM UTC
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.
Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 10:50 PM UTC
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
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 2:33 AM UTC
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.
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 9:39 AM UTC
The deepest beginnings start by wading through shallow waters
Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 9:47 AM UTC
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.
Dec 26, 2019
Dec 26, 2019 at 9:24 PM UTC
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.
Sep 16, 2019
Sep 16, 2019 at 12:19 PM UTC
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.
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 5:01 PM UTC
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.
Jul 4, 2019
Jul 4, 2019 at 12:19 AM UTC
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
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 7:32 PM UTC