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This is such a small life,
Battling no demons but our own.
And yet, I see an adventure here -
An adventure, dear,
And I think you might be worth the risk.
we're going on an adventure!
The river runs deep.
Eyelets open as ice melts;
Blue irises edge clear water.
Her patience is thin -
Signs warn of narrow trails.
Upstream, the dam employs her
Six million kilowatt strength.
A steamship boiler
(Riveted, overbuilt steel)
Lies wrecked, a trophy
On display in snow-glitter.
Mankind must tread lightly.
Happy international women's day
 13h Malcolm
Stardust
Metal strings,
triangle pick,
painted board,
mind plays tricks.
Humming noise; the silence clicks.

Dust on frets,
bent-down spine,
aching chords,
blurred by time.
Still, I hum... though not in rhyme.
I am my best friend.
I will never trust another over me again.
After the long nights
and early mornings
and long trials of back-and-forth-ing,
I have studied myself and can promise one thing:
I know me more than you do.

So if you ever begin to think
I am missing something big
come and slip a note to me -
criticism is welcome, but I will choose what I take and leave.

I have my back
I hold the line
I trust my truth and have a spine
I'll defend my reputation against those friends
who weren't friends at all, in the end.

I'd rather be "alone" than have to pretend.
I'd rather be my own best friend.
I forgive like rain,
soft and steady, washing wounds clean
even when they were carved into me.
I pour grace like water into cups
that never once filled mine.

I am the open door,
the light in others’ storms,
the hands that hold,
the voice that soothes
and yet no one stays
to check if I’m still breathing
after the healing is done.

Heaven-sent, they say,
but even angels fall silent
when no one listens to their cries.

I gave pieces of myself
to build bridges, mend hearts,
carry burdens too heavy
for broken backs to hold.
But who sees me?
Who carries me?

I am not weak
no, I’m made of grief and grit,
a woman stitched from suffering
and stubborn hope.
But I am tired.
Tired of being the strong one
in rooms full of silence
when I need saving too.

No one could walk
the warpath I’ve walked
and still offer love with open palms.
No one could break this much
and still want to make others whole.

And that’s the tragedy.
That’s the ache.
Not that I can’t forgive them,
but that I forgot how to choose me.
So please,
leave me alone.
This book
my book
is over for you.
You had your chapters.
You played your part.
You saw the mess,
you tasted the light,
but none of you stayed
to see the rebuild.

You had your chance
to love me right,
to pour into me
like I did for you.
But you took and you took
and I still stood.
I still gave.

Now I’m done
repeating cycles
just so others can stay comfortable
while I suffer in silence.

This isn't bitterness.
It’s peace.
It’s boundaries.
It’s me choosing me
for once.

And I don’t wish you pain.
I don’t wish you harm.
I just hope that, one day,
when you’re sitting in your stillness,
you’ll remember the woman
who loved you deeply
even when she was drowning.

And I pray
honestly
that I gave you enough hope
to one day look up
and ask Him,
“Did she end up okay?”

And He’ll say:
"She did. Without you."
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