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Untitled How long did it take not to cry Waves rolling through my body Crashing, capszed, pulled under How long did it take to get to shore Not sunny, sandy beaches But land; of any kind — Channie Russell | Written in grief, Nov 2025 © 2026 Channie Russell. All rights reserved.
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Apr 27
Apr 27, 2026 at 11:39 PM UTC
Untitled
Four shrubs tuned perfect, a gate to stand as its door, birds flying high, but not what you think they're for. Colored flowers scattered about, their scents cannot be found, some high, some low, but ALL of them are bound. Beautiful little birdies, fluttering as they call, "Can we help you? Can we help you?" the best of them all. And if it weren't for that Man sitting up there, 'The Grove' wouldn't be pretty and nobody would care.
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Mar 7
Mar 7, 2026 at 2:05 PM UTC
The Grove
Do you love or do you regret? When you run, do you sweat? Do you bleed or do you cry? It's so hard to say goodbye. Do you sit or do you stand? Always stay with your band. Do you want or do you need? Oh boy, oh boy, I want my snead. Do you drive or do you walk? I really wish we could talk. Do you kiss or do you hug? I do miss my moseys and bug. Do you swim or do you sink? I wish I could see you in a blink. Do you love or do you regret? I don't know, it's the toughest one yet. Do you love or do you regret? I definitely love more than I sweat.
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Mar 7
Mar 7, 2026 at 2:11 PM UTC
Do you love or do you regret?
Nobody knows about the little secret wish you made upon a shooting star. Nobody talks about the memory loss. It’s all sadness and isolation—that’s not the reality. It’s not like that. It’s not like it’s seen in the movies. It’s worse. It’s angrier. It’s like every time you think you’re better and it’s gone, it comes back again. Nobody talks about the memory loss caused by your brain in order to protect you from past trauma, bad memories, and the terrible, terrible lies. Nobody talks about how much the scars burn when you try to shower. When they are cuts, it’s worse, but nobody understands. Nobody talks about the addiction, and how good it feels to relapse— to finally pick up that blade or that lighter, or turn the shower all the way up to feel the burn, and to finally feel something. Nobody talks about it until it causes a death in their lives and they finally learn about it: the ***** little secret that you kept for many years so you don’t look like an attention seeker. Nobody notices your scars, your tears, or any of your cries for help, and your wish to finally end it all. Nobody notices the small signs of your ***** little secrets until you are finally gone, and you finally got your wish.
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Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 5:42 PM UTC
The Wish
A sentence sent on silent wings, A hope the lonely spirit brings. A thread is thrown across the night— A sudden,answering, gentle light. Wishing you a day filled with those gentle lights.
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Sep 25, 2025
Sep 25, 2025 at 7:25 AM UTC
Message in a Bottle
"It's hard to live in a place where your existence feels more like a burden than a responsibility."
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May 27, 2025
May 27, 2025 at 10:20 AM UTC
When Presence Hurts
She feels the world's weight in her chest, but deep within, she knows she holds the strength to rise. No matter how small, each step she takes is a victory over the whispers of doubt. She's not just surviving her anxiety—she's learning to bloom through it, one breath at a time.
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Dec 17, 2024
Dec 17, 2024 at 12:53 PM UTC
One breath at a time.
In a world where joy and sorrow blend,   We wear our smiles, though hearts may bend.   The laughter fades, and shadows creep,   A heavy burden that we all must keep. In moments where the heart should soar,   Instead, we feel a quiet war.   The joy that once filled up our days,   Now leaves us lost in a dismal haze. We reach out, hoping to be heard,   But find no comfort in a word.   Alone, we craft a mask of cheer,   To hide the pain, to mask the fear. Yet deep within, we all the same,   Carry wounds that have no name.   In this silent, shared despair,   Know that you're not alone out there.
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Aug 12, 2024
Aug 12, 2024 at 9:33 AM UTC
Finding a comfort
I always thought that I would be broken forever. I couldn't imagine a version of myself that wasn't sad, or lonely or constantly running... from something. Today, I realized that I've made it. It's a Friday night, And I'm spending it alone. But for once, I don't feel lonely. I feel at peace. I feel proud. I made it out of that darkness. And now, I'm here, Beautifully, unbroken. -C.M.
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Jun 11, 2021
Jun 11, 2021 at 7:56 PM UTC
Beautifully Unbroken
You better keep your head up my dear Do not let them steal that crown, You've worked so hard and come so far. Don't let them make you feel like you deserve to be treated unfair. You were not born in this world, For others to make you feel small. You are bright, your energy is so big And the world needs you to share more of it. Don't listen to them when they try to dull your sparkle. Don't believe them when they try to convince you that you will never get better. Don't let them make you feel like you aren't good enough. Because my God, I promise you, You are so much more than just good. You are strong, And wonderful, And resilient, You are kind, And courageous, You have a beautiful soul. Anyone who tries to get in your way as you begin to heal and to progress, isn't worth investing a single thought into. Be proud of yourself, You've grown You've endured And you're still growing. Be proud of yourself. You're healing, and not everyone is going to clap for you, some people are just bitter. Clap for yourself and carry on. Be your own cheerleader! Keep that head up, adjust your crown and keep walking. -This is resilience
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Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 9:01 AM UTC
Untitled
The human being is a madman lost in his/her adventure. Blood in the veins People with masks on: Further dims the confinement of this human cage We’re all accustomed to.. Take a breath An act of faith Will 2021 change our lifetime with the cross of illusion that 2020 gave us? My ghost is a blade Stone by stone I pervade Sitting in a loft of treason Transmuting a spinning cycle of pain I see through the translucency of all of it These shaky frames with their eyes dangling Raise your spirit to me Fire beams perforate the lost Fermented grapes distill the wineries of seasons passed over into the space between death and the living Breathe. 'I am the Empire at the end of the decadence’.
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Jan 23, 2021
Jan 23, 2021 at 11:31 AM UTC
Supernaturelle
I thought I knew your words It was like knowing anybody out there   A blank page in the book of Proverbs Bait and switch without the wisdom But you didn’t know what you brought Soulless protection to fear You called me a scared little girl Little did you know I was my own savior What is it you said I needed? A so-called enlightenment? But who knew your darkness wrapped *** magik Could save vulnerability and attempt to destroy the authentic luxury of me No. Only fake love in lust can do that For lust is loss and I’m not gone Then there was you and me again That night unveiled me The unevolved me Still I knew I was going to make it out alive I am here.
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Dec 24, 2020
Dec 24, 2020 at 2:51 PM UTC
Jade and Blue Eyed: Part 2
your sister laughs at the to of her lungs while my tears water the pillow maybe the ashes on it will grow into a phoenix, probably not they say the phoenix rises from the ashes burns again then rises again then burns again then rises again, and the cycle never ends it feels like my life is going the same way crying in bed suicide attempts hospital beds and it feels like it's never gonna end but it ends though it doesn't feel like rising cause it happens again cause when I rise to the surface above the water it seems like I've forgotten how to take a breath it goes up and down but up doesn't feel good it's not as bad as down still, it feels confusing scary cause I know I will turn into ashes yet again your sister laughs I cry in my bed I keep it down so u don't hear a sound cause I don't want you to ask me why I'm crying I'll probably just end up lying saying I'm fine and I don't want your sister hearing me cry anyway the moon whispers goodnight but the drunk rooster screams wake up! I'm awake, rooster I always am but darling moon I'm dead inside
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Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 10:02 PM UTC
the phoenix, the moon, and the drunk rooster
When I scroll down And look at my older poems, I wonder, I wrote these?
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Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 3:53 AM UTC
My poems..?
I'm sorry if someone made you feel like it was hard to love you I'm sorry if you feel like being exactly who you are isn't good enough I'm sorry if you look in the mirror and hate what you see because someone else said that you weren't beautiful I'm sorry if you've ever questioned whether your life was worth living because some **** told you the world would be better off without you. I'm sorry if youre reading this right now and relating to this. I'm sorry if society's expectations of how a girl should look, what size they should be, and how they should ask, made you think that you were doing it all wrong. I'm sorry your beautiful soul has ever had to question anything about who you are because the truth is, the world needs more people like YOU. The truth is they're all wrong. And I'm sorry for all the years you believed them and all of the tears you cried and nights you asked God why you weren't good enough. You are. You always were. You were never hard to love, you were just loving the wrong people. I'm sorry they wasted your time. But its about time you stop hating yourself for not being everyone else's idea of yourself, and start being the version of yourself that you can live with and love. -c.m.
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Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 12:32 PM UTC
I'm Sorry
Softly caress my skin Slowly encounter my body Touch the scars Weaving my body Etch your hand Against my form Parade the scars Show society Scars are beautiful Alive
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Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 12:27 PM UTC
Scars
Why is life a cruel creature? Why does it hate your joyous features? Why does it try and hide you away, In the darkness of space Without anybodies trace? How come it convinces you to hide yourself? How come it convinces you not to cry? How come it convinces you to not rely On those who are there to support you When help is what you are due? Life may want you to feel alone In the empty void of space Where life can lie and say you can't cry As it won't matter; since nobody is nearby Life may want you to give up If you can't shine bright every day. But that is not what people who care say. Don't worry about shining bright Don't worry about staying warm Just focus on your own fight And let your friends stay in your sight So they can help tend to your flame Instead of letting it burn away. All because life doesn't care.
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Feb 13, 2020
Feb 13, 2020 at 10:48 AM UTC
Silent Star
I promise One day The sun will wash away the rain And the tide will pull away the darkness Maybe that isn’t today And maybe, That’s okay Because I promise One day You will be.
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Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 7:06 PM UTC
Okay
We are aware of the darkness that a judgmental mind could never interpret, regrettably a sympathetic one whom may never understand, the unfortunate occasion that you may never comprehend, nevertheless, the inconsolable thoughts taking possession as we ill-advisedly perceive it all. We plead with our wits next to the shadowy void to pull itself together for the considerate rope, thrown by the aiding, observant heart, whom questionably believes they may be witness to a faltering mind. Observing the consciousness of the defeated soul that appears to be in despair without hope, whos only aspirations seem simply to be a desire for a purpose, if not just appreciated for unobserved accomplishments, but as the Darkness appears it’s difficult to grasp the disoriented, desolated mind that was ****** abruptly upon us. As much as you try to alleviate the agony you attest to see, handing over your own strength you long to be received, There is still the over-whelming pull of our defective mind, discouraging thoughts that blind the help being offered that we push aside, we feel the need of fight or fly, as we flee to our merciless evacuation, It’s in that moment we freely descend, Diving into the captivating abyss, With the knowledge of knowing we may never ascend again.              You can’t hear the darkness’s dialogue, but we listen to the seductive silence as the chemicals misalign, the reckless, misguided drop into the blinding dark hole that feels numb in awareness, but aching to touch, the darkness can speak for as long as we reluctantly consent, despite the fact it leaves us feeling insignificant, we let darkness define us and at times its abundant touch is imprudently enough to keep us retreating to darkness’s lair for refuge from our detrimental behavior. We reach, we scream, we dig our nails into the muddy wall, but the hole is too deep; the rope isn’t long. Maybe it’s a test as you climb the roots; but the darkness is still there grabbing at your legs, whispering to you that you’re meant to be here instead. “It’s safe here!” Darkness says.  “They can’t get you here! They may get past that concrete wall, but not in this destitute of twigs and straw, but if they do, they could get stuck, too, maybe I’ll haunt them instead of you?” I should have known how easy it was to fall so gracelessly into a shadowy hole that I know shows when prompted by self-possessed triggers in life that you can’t help but let devour the night. We find ourselves asking if we should even reach up. We began to wonder if the hole was meant to collect what we feel is broken and left for dead. Some find us weak, but they have no clue, When we do choose to be, we fight this battle almost daily, so you can’t say what weakness is, When you’ve never needed the strength to fight the dark to begin with. By, Natalie M. Lawrence
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Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 12:31 AM UTC
Darkness Awareness
We are aware of the darkness that a judgmental mind could never interpret, regrettably a sympathetic one whom may never understand, the unfortunate occasion that you may never comprehend, nevertheless, the inconsolable thoughts taking possession as we ill-advisedly perceive it all. We plead with our wits next to the shadowy void to pull itself together for the considerate rope, thrown by the aiding, observant heart, whom questionably believes they may be witness to a faltering mind. Observing the consciousness of the defeated soul that appears to be in despair without hope, whos only aspirations seem simply to be a desire for a purpose, if not just appreciated for unobserved accomplishments, but as the Darkness appears it’s difficult to grasp the disoriented, desolated mind that was ****** abruptly upon us. As much as you try to alleviate the agony you attest to see, handing over your own strength you long to be received, There is still the over-whelming pull of our defective mind, discouraging thoughts that blind the help being offered that we push aside, we feel the need of fight or fly, as we flee to our merciless evacuation, It’s in that moment we freely descend, Diving into the captivating abyss, With the knowledge of knowing we may never ascend again.              You can’t hear the darkness’s dialogue, but we listen to the seductive silence as the chemicals misalign, the reckless, misguided drop into the blinding dark hole that feels numb in awareness, but aching to touch, the darkness can speak for as long as we reluctantly consent, despite the fact it leaves us feeling insignificant, we let darkness define us and at times its abundant touch is imprudently enough to keep us retreating to darkness’s lair for refuge from our detrimental behavior. We reach, we scream, we dig our nails into the muddy wall, but the hole is too deep; the rope isn’t long. Maybe it’s a test as you climb the roots; but the darkness is still there grabbing at your legs, whispering to you that you’re meant to be here instead. “It’s safe here!” Darkness says.  “They can’t get you here! They may get past that concrete wall, but not in this destitute of twigs and straw, but if they do, they could get stuck, too, maybe I’ll haunt them instead of you?” I should have known how easy it was to fall so gracelessly into a shadowy hole that I know shows when prompted by self-possessed triggers in life that you can’t help but let devour the night. We find ourselves asking if we should even reach up. We began to wonder if the hole was meant to collect what we feel is broken and left for dead. Some find us weak, but they have no clue, When we do choose to be, we fight this battle almost daily, so you can’t say what weakness is, When you’ve never needed the strength to fight the dark to begin with. By, Natalie M. Lawrence
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Songs are an escape. You don't hear the lyrics, you listen to them, and you truly understand the artist and don't feel as alone as you felt when you started the song. Songs are a type of poetry that has music and is likewise written out of deep emotion. Not some shallow stupid feeling that's temporary, but a feeling that stays with you for a lifetime
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Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 10:44 AM UTC
Songs
When you suffer, I suffer too. No matter the situation, I am right there with you. When I see the pain in your eyes, A little more of me dies. I have failed you, This I know. I should have protected you, But I didn’t know. You never came to me, This is my fault. You were left to struggle on your own, You were left in a world of hurt. To see that hurts me, To not be able to step in kills me. My feelings are irrelevant, This you and I both know. Your feelings are the most important, If only you believed though.
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Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 4:54 AM UTC
Shared suffering while you walk alone
From a distance, fade and keep fadin the palm of our shaky hands touched the cold mirror There is no stopping the halt of the creeping disassociation Identity, stripped away like the distant memories of the future who's there , why you are always there , Do we know each other? Love me, I did well Hold me, in your light take me, to your future There's no way, I know no such person, There's no way, that you are me. I rather die than being seen And you know I wanna be seen The reason to quietly sobbing in the stalls The exact reason to be that perfect, wholesome guy
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Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 3:55 PM UTC
I am you too.
Why do people say this? Is it to comfort you or themselves? When someone tells me that I am not alone I think of the other people that have to feel like this, or worse. It doesn't make me feel better. I wish people didn't have to feel this way.
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Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
You are not alone