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#whoiam
I am the girl who learned early that perfect houses can hide jagged edges. I am the child who sat silent while the world looked in and called it safe. I am the one who remembers the smell of thick white milk that wasn’t meant for me, but I drank anyway. I am the girl who fell off bikes and was told to stop crying. I am the child who thought she would never belong until a second home showed her love could be patient, kind, and constant. I am the one who called two strangers Mum and Dad and learned what family could feel like. I am the woman who carries those lessons into motherhood. I am the mum who sees my children for who they are, who celebrates their victories, who comforts their falls, who holds them when the world cannot. I am the girl who began small, scared, silent, and became the protector, the guide, the heart that refuses to break for those I love. I am the proof that even jagged beginnings can shape a whole, strong heart.
0
Mar 10
Mar 10, 2026 at 7:51 PM UTC
Who I Am (Identity & Motherhood)
I've been dragged away from the edge of the water, even though I wanted to jump right in I'd been only swimming in the shallow corners, almost learned to let go and give in Give in to the waves let them pull me further from the shore Give in to the tide, hear the ocean roar But something happened then and I lost my sight of how and when For a minute I closed my eyes, thought I was lost at sea, but when I looked around there was no water to be seen Just like someone came and took my hand and pulled me far away off to dry lands Felt like memory loss, tried but couldn't remember why my feet were still so wet when I was in the centre of the forest splendour And sometimes I recall the memories of the time when I almost had it all I was getting so close, could barely believe that I had found the purpose of my reality But not everything works out Lost sight of my true silhouette My head has been dry for so long, but my feet are still wet Out of place Out of my mind Lost in the woods Lost track of time Take me back Now I recall why my feet are still wet I can still have it all I'll drag myself back to the edge of the water and jump right in like I was meant to I'll be swimming away into the deep end Giving in to the waves Giving in to the tide Giving in to the voices that I've kept inside My feet are still wet and now I know why
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Aug 12, 2022
Aug 12, 2022 at 6:58 PM UTC
Feet still wet
I didn't change for me. I didn't change for you. I changed because I had to. But the one thing I could never change Is who I am inside. Because who I am is too important to leave behind
0
Aug 1, 2021
Aug 1, 2021 at 8:41 PM UTC
Too important
Drowning in this judgemental sea Why can't I be just who I want to be? Their judging fingers pointing at me I desire to be free Why can't I be me?
0
Mar 20, 2021
Mar 20, 2021 at 7:18 AM UTC
Can I be?
I am Max. I can not be simply imagined Many will create a character in their mind of what I must be like None will get this character right Because I am not a simple thought I am not what you want me to be Trust me I’ve tried before I am not that cool, has it together punk I am not that smart, likeable shy alt kid I am not your next conquest or partner I am not your next interest or crush I am not the one you fall in love with I’m the ***** that will break your heart That teaches you not all love is right I am the heartache you get when you think of love I am the ******* tears in your eyes when someone says “I love you” back I am the mistake you’ll make I’m the drug you’ll want time and time again But I do not come back to break people I will break you once and myself many times I’m the one you’ll scream and yell at when it’s over I’m the one you’ll block and never unblock I am the mistake you’ll make time and time again But the truth is that I’ll never be right for you or anyone For I am a phase that some may have But I am also the whisper in the wind that comes once, never twice I am Max.
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Nov 29, 2020
Nov 29, 2020 at 2:26 PM UTC
I am Max.
Watch out Because I’m a writer with a sharp tongue and poisonous ink I’m a lighting bolt Striking in the distance Breathtaking As it glides across the sky But deadly when you get too close I’m a fire Burning with dominion Crackling with mesmeric charm Setting ablaze any cruelty or dishonesty thrown into my flames Watch out Because I’m a rose Flourishing in innocent beauty But ready to puncture Anyone who holds me the wrong way I’m the ocean Swaying with peaceful serenity But swimming with unknown dangers Watch out Because I’m a fighter Who has swallowed blood countless times Continuing to defend herself Through endless punches Tired of holding everything in And letting it slide Watch out Because I’m a storm You don’t want to mess with Because my strength Comes from moments of weakness When I physically couldn’t take anymore I am resilient because of all the times I felt broken Watch out Because I am done hurting I am done letting the pain control me I am done letting my past determine the future And I am done letting my anxiety define me Watch out Because I am so much more
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Jan 13, 2020
Jan 13, 2020 at 10:03 PM UTC
Who I Am
I have not given up on love, But how I love unsettles many, The girl I am scares most. I am the girl who can love someone after a couple days. I am the girl who can love more than one at a time. I am the girl who shows more love than some have ever received. I am the girl who jumps back and forth, because this world is taught monogamy is the only way. I am the girl who loves those that people think I should not. I am the girl who makes people jealous by accident, because I give out so much affection. I am the girl who has hurt people with my love. I am the girl who holds onto love even if it's toxic. I am the girl who chases love. I am the girl who wants to make everyone feel loved. I am the girl who wants forever with everyone I love. I am the girl who will give everything to everyone. I am the girl who is reckless when it comes to her heart. I am the girl who makes promises about love. I am the girl who breaks her own heart, but keeps on loving anyways. I am the girl whose heart people want all to themselves, but that, I can rarely provide. I am the girl that people want in their bed, but I don't understand why. I am the girl that isn't safe with her heart. I am the girl that freely gives her heart away. Is it safe, To be this way? It's likely that it is not, But I say risks were made to take.
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Oct 31, 2019
Oct 31, 2019 at 9:02 AM UTC
The Girl I Am, Concerning Love
I am made of my brothers twisting grip, as we grapple on the living room floor. I am made up of saying uncle, and laughing so hard at the dinner table that milk comes out of my noise. I am made up of slobbering dog kisses, loving kitten purrs, and injured strays. I am made up scrambling through bushes, slipping in dirt, and mudded shoes. Of wild hair, wild eyes, and a wild grin. I am made up of road trips and sunny days. Of pool parties and family gathering where laughter is the only thing that echo’s through you’re ears. I am made up of countless flues and colds that kept me homesick. Of ditching school with my best friends to go to Disney land, Of every Friday night being girl’s night for 3 years. I am made up of heart break for lost love and lost friends. I am made up of travel and moving away I am made of studying in Australia, Of my Danish and Dutch friends that I chose to make my family. I am made up of smiling faces as I walk to school, Of ravens over head, and redwoods straight in front. I am made of scratched arms and bruised legs Of callused hands and burning muscles. I am made of a drive for adventure and new experiences Of an aggressive spirit And a curious mind. I am made of freedom, Of courage Hope, Happiness, Sorrow, Loss, Heartbreak. Of love Eccentricity And a warriors spirit. I am made up of my memories, of the people I have met, and of the experiences that will never stop. -ALC February 23, 2019
0
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 8:59 PM UTC
What I am made of
I am not what you have made out of me in your head at 2 am when you were thinking about the very specific way I wear my heart on my sleeve. I'm not a fact that states that I'm a very expressive person. Trust me when I say you don't want to know how I would express my thoughts of you, so don't try to define my lines when they aren't very clear, not even to me.
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Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 1:30 AM UTC
Don't define me
It can be scary coming out of the closet Escpecially to your parents It's sad to know he won't accept it He won't accept me So I have to hide it Pretend i'm just into the opposite gender It's hard at times It ***** Parents are suppose to accept you for who you are To love you no matter what But for me .. Lies are everywhere I can never truly be who I am He will disown me See me in a different way I'll lose him .. For being who I am
0
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 11:52 AM UTC
Coming Out
I need to be a picture-perfect rom-com from the 90's, specifically the part where I find who I am and who I am meant to be.
0
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 10:17 AM UTC
90's Rom-Com
I am the swirls in the steam above your tea cup, the whisper of wind in the tops of trees; I am that high and light laugh that you can never find the source of, that soft tap of feet that always follows you; I am always there but never tangible, always just beyond where your eyes can see even when they look right at me; I hide in plain sight, even when I shout it is a whisper; I am stuck between two worlds, always where you are, and yet a million miles away.
0
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 7:06 PM UTC
Who Are You?
Booming voices, and broken glass Tuesday at 2am, Thursday at 4pm Hysteric laughter, backwards ball caps Scribbled writing that doesn’t even make sense Birds trying to fly but falling instead Headlights piercing through the foggy darkness of dawn The realization that entropy is unavoidable Ash grey, lavender, forest green, misty rose pink I am struggling and haven’t yet found my kitchen sink A piano slightly out of tune, papers falling to the floor Glazed over eyes, cracks in the sidewalk, all of this what for? Steaming cups of black coffee, met with desiring needs Full moons and unanswered questions All of these, I happen to be. The power of silence, the power of identity Thunderstorms, moments of chaos perfectly intertwined with the silence, Unmade beds, messy hair that falls into your eyes. The ever-moving cold gray skies and beauty of the sunrise Out of place tiles on bitterly cold linoleum floors I am not perfection, in any way, shape, or form. I fall from grace routinely, my bones ache and tremble And when I fall apart, it takes me a while to reassemble. Like gunshots muffled by the noise of the city blocks I am not perfect, nothing special ever happens. I am broken, I am misplaced and unwanted passion. I am the raw energy that shoots from my fingertips The tumbling words that constantly fall from my lips That I cannot, nor would I want to control. Galaxies and constellations grow in my soul. I am, nothing more, than all that I have listed. I am mistakes, dark times, unnoticed and forgotten moments. But I am also a smile after a long cry, (don’t worry) your identity has not been stolen.
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Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 2:48 AM UTC
Simply I am.
Booming voices, and broken glass Tuesday at 2am, Thursday at 4pm Hysteric laughter, backwards ball caps Scribbled writing that doesn’t even make sense Birds trying to fly but falling instead Headlights piercing through the foggy darkness of dawn The realization that entropy is unavoidable Ash grey, lavender, forest green, misty rose pink I am struggling and haven’t yet found my kitchen sink A piano slightly out of tune, papers falling to the floor Glazed over eyes, cracks in the sidewalk, all of this what for? Steaming cups of black coffee, met with desiring needs Full moons and unanswered questions All of these, I happen to be. The power of silence, the power of identity Thunderstorms, moments of chaos perfectly intertwined with the silence, Unmade beds, messy hair that falls into your eyes. The ever-moving cold gray skies and beauty of the sunrise Out of place tiles on bitterly cold linoleum floors I am not perfection, in any way, shape, or form. I fall from grace routinely, my bones ache and tremble And when I fall apart, it takes me a while to reassemble. Like gunshots muffled by the noise of the city blocks I am not perfect, nothing special ever happens. I am broken, I am misplaced and unwanted passion. I am the raw energy that shoots from my fingertips The tumbling words that constantly fall from my lips That I cannot, nor would I want to control. Galaxies and constellations grow in my soul. I am, nothing more, than all that I have listed. I am mistakes, dark times, unnoticed and forgotten moments. But I am also a smile after a long cry, (don’t worry) your identity has not been stolen.
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32
If there is a God I'll live how I want Some last hour confession Won't change who I am No one got anywhere By doing things half way
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Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC
Half measures
I am still the same person under the breakdowns, makeups and everything in between.
0
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 10:07 PM UTC
I = I
I want the be soft edges melted down from the broken mirrors of my hallowed halls I want to be whisper touches and gentle words I want my smile to be bright, never faltering, and always knowing When the world is loud and the wind is howling out of control I want to be the quiet I don't want to fill the space with what I want you to see but with what I am But what I am is sharp teeth and prickly points with an ooey gooey center Words leave me feeling frozen when they slice through my warmest sweaters My knees click and clank together, faltering through every step like my legs are stone and the street, molasses I am Christmas songs in June staring you in the eye, begging you to tell me it's too early I poke at my own bruises and have the audacity to condemn you for reaching out with spindly fingers to poke them too I am also spiced gingerbread and hugs with too short of arms that seem to be able to hold you tight as if they're miles long I am built from fire, one shot of me will leave your ears burning My icicle veins have long since thawed leaving puddles deep enough for us to grab hands and jump into together Butterfly kisses and cornflake potatoes shaped this body standing before you My cells are made of crystals of sugar and tiny fireflies And my heart reaches towards the souls floating around me I am the good and the bad I am leftover ashes from fallen homes The longingness of nostalgia and the need for new adventure I cry for the weeds that are cut down along the road while my own hands are painted with the dirt that pulled out my own I am contradiction and balance I am a desire to be.
0
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 10:12 PM UTC
To Be Less And More
I want the be soft edges melted down from the broken mirrors of my hallowed halls I want to be whisper touches and gentle words I want my smile to be bright, never faltering, and always knowing When the world is loud and the wind is howling out of control I want to be the quiet I don't want to fill the space with what I want you to see but with what I am But what I am is sharp teeth and prickly points with an ooey gooey center Words leave me feeling frozen when they slice through my warmest sweaters My knees click and clank together, faltering through every step like my legs are stone and the street, molasses I am Christmas songs in June staring you in the eye, begging you to tell me it's too early I poke at my own bruises and have the audacity to condemn you for reaching out with spindly fingers to poke them too I am also spiced gingerbread and hugs with too short of arms that seem to be able to hold you tight as if they're miles long I am built from fire, one shot of me will leave your ears burning My icicle veins have long since thawed leaving puddles deep enough for us to grab hands and jump into together Butterfly kisses and cornflake potatoes shaped this body standing before you My cells are made of crystals of sugar and tiny fireflies And my heart reaches towards the souls floating around me I am the good and the bad I am leftover ashes from fallen homes The longingness of nostalgia and the need for new adventure I cry for the weeds that are cut down along the road while my own hands are painted with the dirt that pulled out my own I am contradiction and balance I am a desire to be.
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24
You don't know my story, but soon you will. I was born as a citizen of the world, I grew up jumping from one continent to the next. I've learned to love differences in cultures and I've learned that we're all the same after all. I myself am an artist, I put on canvas what my brain can't put into words. I put on paper all the secrets that I hold. I take pictures so I can make a moment last forever. I obsessively listen to music that stirs my emotions. I love to dance in solitude to sad songs. I only see good in people, which can be problematic. I would do anything for my loved ones. I give strong hugs because I'm afraid every one will be the last one. I don't understand my feelings, yet I express them in so many ways. I believe in God and I've chosen to follow Him for the rest of my life. That's my story.
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May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 8:24 PM UTC
Introducing Me
The day the ships came my ancestors we not of the aware of the forced melting *** that would come into existence The combination of french and spanish confused the delta slaves Little did they know that neither language would stick on their burnt excuses of tongues The days the ships came New Orleans became the beacon of mulatos And although the conquistadors could **** and beat their slave wives Their spanish advances were not reciprocated due to lack of of heat to complete the melting The languages that conquered the delta were combined into something that no outsider would want to encounter That’s why the Americans came and took it like they did the rest of the country They mistake the magic for voodoo then rebranded it for themselves Centuries later the delta is still a melting *** But it’s one my grandmother’s tongue was forced to forget Her languages were lost next to her mulatto slave ancestors, left to spoil So now when people ask “If you’re hispanic why can’t you speak spanish?” I can barely find the words in english to explain the years of torture my tongue has endured When spanish speaking couples walk into my work My tongue is eager to spill words it wishes it had the ability to create My blood begins to hate itself over the fact that a third of itself is unrecognizable My tongue is still waiting for the new boats to arrive and reconcer it All it knows is to be conquered No self defense here When all you know is to be conquered It becomes a challenge to think for oneself My tongue can’t decide if english, spanish or french is better My creole mind is yelling thousands foreign curse words not knowing which one is a true sin Maybe the sin here is letting the burner stay on too long The day the ships came My slave ancestors looked at their spanish lovers and said “My love, what shall we do once the french arrive?” With their eyes looking into the horizon the conquistadors replied “Es no problema para mi, pero tu, tu es la propiedad de estos” Which according to simple history books means “Good luck”
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Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 10:16 PM UTC
The day the ships came
The day the ships came my ancestors we not of the aware of the forced melting *** that would come into existence The combination of french and spanish confused the delta slaves Little did they know that neither language would stick on their burnt excuses of tongues The days the ships came New Orleans became the beacon of mulatos And although the conquistadors could **** and beat their slave wives Their spanish advances were not reciprocated due to lack of of heat to complete the melting The languages that conquered the delta were combined into something that no outsider would want to encounter That’s why the Americans came and took it like they did the rest of the country They mistake the magic for voodoo then rebranded it for themselves Centuries later the delta is still a melting *** But it’s one my grandmother’s tongue was forced to forget Her languages were lost next to her mulatto slave ancestors, left to spoil So now when people ask “If you’re hispanic why can’t you speak spanish?” I can barely find the words in english to explain the years of torture my tongue has endured When spanish speaking couples walk into my work My tongue is eager to spill words it wishes it had the ability to create My blood begins to hate itself over the fact that a third of itself is unrecognizable My tongue is still waiting for the new boats to arrive and reconcer it All it knows is to be conquered No self defense here When all you know is to be conquered It becomes a challenge to think for oneself My tongue can’t decide if english, spanish or french is better My creole mind is yelling thousands foreign curse words not knowing which one is a true sin Maybe the sin here is letting the burner stay on too long The day the ships came My slave ancestors looked at their spanish lovers and said “My love, what shall we do once the french arrive?” With their eyes looking into the horizon the conquistadors replied “Es no problema para mi, pero tu, tu es la propiedad de estos” Which according to simple history books means “Good luck”
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33
I can tell you that I am tall, an I am also not petite, an some they might say sturdy, like a tree who has two feet, An I used to be so thin, as a stick, I heard em say, though I won't say I'm too big, I'm no longer quite that way, Well I have a little belly, as some older women do, I earned it, what I think, with my cooking yeah it's true, So someone might say "chubby" an I guess OK with that, I keep an eye on the scale each day, so I won't end up too fat, as I sample of my cooking, to add in this an that, Sometimes I might wear some makeup though most days I do not, especially in the summertime, when the sun is blazing hot, I wear my jeans till ***** yup more than just few hours, some say I am a witch, who's got some kinda powers, I like the rain a lot you know, and soaking in warm showers, I'm not sure that I'm **** my face has many wrinkles, I like vanilla bean ice cream, with some yummy chocolate sprinkles, and some say that I still glow at night, my eyes they sorta twinkles, ; ) I sip my wine at night to ease, I work and write by day, my thoughts come in a rushing breeze, way more than I can say, I see the world much differently than others who are around, I hear the leaves as they fall dreaming, an as they hit the sacred ground, poetry is everyone, in every lovely sight -an sound I love my little Tanley cat, he sits atop my shoulder, first thing in the morning too, an each day I'm gettin' older, I don't take the **** life gives, cuz I'm a gettin' a lil' bolder, winters in Vermont are now much warmer 'stead of colder, I have an older Subaru, with lucky all wheel drive, that thing is like a tank ya know, it's helped me stay alive, if you are in the wilderness, I could help ya to survive, I cut an split our wood a lot, but I say the "F" word too, an I can cook most ANYTHING, especially a stew!! Emmmm, emmm yummy! an I don't have a lot of friends, but the few I have are true, If you  really wanna know- just what I'm really like, well come up to Vermont -c'mon! and we'll take a lovely hike, or take snowmobile out in wintertime, or catch a real big ugly pike, or introduce you too my 6'8" nephew - who's name is little Mike, I am so honest- genuine, I love all people- same, love is in my heart you see, to me- it's not a game, and life is what you make it, so it's not about the blame, an I no longer carry anger near, or not any hidden shame, I am a very gentle soul, unless you cross me bad, and even then I'd likely be, only maybe sad, I use my measures often too- especially the "tad" : ) I think you'd want me in your corner- I defend mine 'til the death, an I will speak my certain truth- until my last an dying breath, Most days I feel misunderstood, a curse I bear - alone, I keep here pretty quite too, an I like to be at home, I guess I'm left of center, NO didn't vote for stupid Trump, I called him more than maybe twice, an orange looking angry chump, I have so many scars, on my hands from workin hard, I think I made clean money, an now I am the bard, Of a place I love the very most, where I am my own queen, and living every day here, is nothing but a dream, as I have come to realize, things are never as they seem, And we all need to learn, to be present and to be, okay with that, as content is what I seek, an until I am in total peace, then I will write, till the last word that I speak, turning our truth- into beautiful poetry. Ma Cherie © 2017
0
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 11:17 AM UTC
Interesting FacKts? about me - Ma Cherie
I can tell you that I am tall, an I am also not petite, an some they might say sturdy, like a tree who has two feet, An I used to be so thin, as a stick, I heard em say, though I won't say I'm too big, I'm no longer quite that way, Well I have a little belly, as some older women do, I earned it, what I think, with my cooking yeah it's true, So someone might say "chubby" an I guess OK with that, I keep an eye on the scale each day, so I won't end up too fat, as I sample of my cooking, to add in this an that, Sometimes I might wear some makeup though most days I do not, especially in the summertime, when the sun is blazing hot, I wear my jeans till ***** yup more than just few hours, some say I am a witch, who's got some kinda powers, I like the rain a lot you know, and soaking in warm showers, I'm not sure that I'm **** my face has many wrinkles, I like vanilla bean ice cream, with some yummy chocolate sprinkles, and some say that I still glow at night, my eyes they sorta twinkles, ; ) I sip my wine at night to ease, I work and write by day, my thoughts come in a rushing breeze, way more than I can say, I see the world much differently than others who are around, I hear the leaves as they fall dreaming, an as they hit the sacred ground, poetry is everyone, in every lovely sight -an sound I love my little Tanley cat, he sits atop my shoulder, first thing in the morning too, an each day I'm gettin' older, I don't take the **** life gives, cuz I'm a gettin' a lil' bolder, winters in Vermont are now much warmer 'stead of colder, I have an older Subaru, with lucky all wheel drive, that thing is like a tank ya know, it's helped me stay alive, if you are in the wilderness, I could help ya to survive, I cut an split our wood a lot, but I say the "F" word too, an I can cook most ANYTHING, especially a stew!! Emmmm, emmm yummy! an I don't have a lot of friends, but the few I have are true, If you  really wanna know- just what I'm really like, well come up to Vermont -c'mon! and we'll take a lovely hike, or take snowmobile out in wintertime, or catch a real big ugly pike, or introduce you too my 6'8" nephew - who's name is little Mike, I am so honest- genuine, I love all people- same, love is in my heart you see, to me- it's not a game, and life is what you make it, so it's not about the blame, an I no longer carry anger near, or not any hidden shame, I am a very gentle soul, unless you cross me bad, and even then I'd likely be, only maybe sad, I use my measures often too- especially the "tad" : ) I think you'd want me in your corner- I defend mine 'til the death, an I will speak my certain truth- until my last an dying breath, Most days I feel misunderstood, a curse I bear - alone, I keep here pretty quite too, an I like to be at home, I guess I'm left of center, NO didn't vote for stupid Trump, I called him more than maybe twice, an orange looking angry chump, I have so many scars, on my hands from workin hard, I think I made clean money, an now I am the bard, Of a place I love the very most, where I am my own queen, and living every day here, is nothing but a dream, as I have come to realize, things are never as they seem, And we all need to learn, to be present and to be, okay with that, as content is what I seek, an until I am in total peace, then I will write, till the last word that I speak, turning our truth- into beautiful poetry. Ma Cherie © 2017
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121
As I gaze into the world I see more than eyes can see There’s a beauty flowing surely Through hidden veins within each soul My own beating heart cannot escape That special blood that burns for transparency All it takes is the clarity of a simple step To break out the confined colors of my spirit Looking in the mirror, I see a fleeting image It holds little weight as I grasp it for a moment I only tune it for the grander picture My physicality renders itself to my heart’s will The warmth in a precious moment Revives my inspiration for today But my artistic passion has a hunger That I feel so strong but can't be quenched So, for this love I continue seeking To even further depths of who I am I always find a different place to unlock And set myself free to sing the imprisoned song Dance is the hidden language of my soul That I must express with every measure of me It’s who I was, who I am, who I’ll always be If I should stifle the flame and fall silent It’s like the sweetest dream that was never dreamed Like a dire prayer without the faith to be prayed Like a true love that wouldn’t be sacrificed for Like an anguished tear that wasn’t allowed to fall Though I must nurture and understand this voice Before I let it go and the first chord is rung Courage and vulnerability need melding together As a tool forged in brokenness not perfection Pain is just an old friend that holds my hand Strengthening while reminding me of my humanity When frustration winds itself around me I won’t be hindered in pursuing higher goals I know that no symphony can carry on forever I only hope that what I create and leave behind Is a clear, beautiful melody amidst the world’s complexity That shows how meaningful and worthwhile is the journey To be a dancer
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Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 8:41 PM UTC
To Be a Dancer
As I gaze into the world I see more than eyes can see There’s a beauty flowing surely Through hidden veins within each soul My own beating heart cannot escape That special blood that burns for transparency All it takes is the clarity of a simple step To break out the confined colors of my spirit Looking in the mirror, I see a fleeting image It holds little weight as I grasp it for a moment I only tune it for the grander picture My physicality renders itself to my heart’s will The warmth in a precious moment Revives my inspiration for today But my artistic passion has a hunger That I feel so strong but can't be quenched So, for this love I continue seeking To even further depths of who I am I always find a different place to unlock And set myself free to sing the imprisoned song Dance is the hidden language of my soul That I must express with every measure of me It’s who I was, who I am, who I’ll always be If I should stifle the flame and fall silent It’s like the sweetest dream that was never dreamed Like a dire prayer without the faith to be prayed Like a true love that wouldn’t be sacrificed for Like an anguished tear that wasn’t allowed to fall Though I must nurture and understand this voice Before I let it go and the first chord is rung Courage and vulnerability need melding together As a tool forged in brokenness not perfection Pain is just an old friend that holds my hand Strengthening while reminding me of my humanity When frustration winds itself around me I won’t be hindered in pursuing higher goals I know that no symphony can carry on forever I only hope that what I create and leave behind Is a clear, beautiful melody amidst the world’s complexity That shows how meaningful and worthwhile is the journey To be a dancer
Continue reading...
41
Who am I? I am love but I am not love. I wear love’s coat, like a blanket and hold its sweet, sweet smell a perfume too expensive to touch. Those who dare, always pay the price. You see I am not as kind as love. I do not care. I do not embrace with loving arms. The heart rules the mind. I make your body the master of your heart. Your soul is tossed aside. It is no worth to me. I am a coward. I flee at the sight of pain and do not help. It is not my job, after all. My job is to leave you enshrouded intrigued torn upon captivated enthralled clouded in the mystery that you thought was love. I am not love. never will be never have. I am the jealous best friend. The one always trying to steal the limelight. Who sometimes comes before love. Steals love. With grimy hands, Covered in jeweled gloves. I do not feel with the heart, I feel with the body. Sensual. Aroused. Intimate. And stimulated. Who am I? I am lust.
0
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 1:35 PM UTC
Lust
A strong man a servant of God A lover and brother A son and a uncle A human being with flaws I knowledge i am not perfect But can you do the same
0
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 3:11 AM UTC
who i am
When panicking meets wondurous fantasies Then you will see what I can see When you test the bounds of your secrecy Then you'll know what I can be
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Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 3:20 PM UTC
What I Can See