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you’re not down,
you’re not
out for the count.

give yourself
some room
to breathe.

i know
they’ve written
you off—

but don’t you
dare give up
now.

they haven’t
seen your best,
only your worst—

and now it’s got
you thinking
nothing

will ever
be good enough.

but none of that
matters now.

what matters
is this:

you hold
the power
to shape your fate.

so don’t you
dare give up
now.

get back up
off the ground—

don’t let them
count you out.
this one’s for the fighter who's been counted out too many times.

your story isn’t over.

your best hasn’t even begun.
Joshua Phelps May 22
it’s absurd,
you keep breaking—

deep down,
you’re tired
of it all.

sick of it.
sick of
the fall.

“traumas,”
you keep sayin’—
“i’m over it,
i’m okay.”

but all you’ve done
is what you had
to do:

survive.

and now you live
with words
you can’t take back.

it’s wasting
your time,
your energy.

the only one left
is you—
and you’re not okay.

nobody hurts you
worse than
you do.

so why
keep this up?

take a breath.
open your eyes.

everything
will fall in place—

this time.
inspired by slaves’ “petty trappin.”

a poem about the lies we tell ourselves, the pain we repeat, and the slow fight to break through it.

sometimes healing sounds like tough love. even when it’s your own voice.
Joshua Phelps May 22
always feelin’
overwhelmed,
stressed—

heart’s gonna
break,

brain won’t
shut off,

so you can’t
fall asleep
and forget.

is this a test?

why does the
world
treat you this way?

you’ve come
so far, but
you find yourself

lying awake
at night—

convincing yourself
that everything’s
gonna be alright.

you’ve gone so
numb, you need
just one reason

to keep going.

because you’re
one step closer
to breaking

than making it
through another day.

let this haunt you—
this rough
journey

isn’t what
you make it
out to be.

the path’s only
less traveled

when you go
alone.

but with time,
the sun will
rise—

light will
touch the road,
and show you

where to go.

so let this haunt you—
and carry on.
inspired by slaves’ “let this haunt you.”

this one’s for the people who lie awake, wondering if they can keep going.
sometimes the past doesn’t let go—but you still can move forward.
Joshua Phelps May 17
you’ve been there
for me,

when i needed
you the most.

and i know
not all stories
have happy endings—

but i’m not
quite ready
to say goodbye.

your love is
more pure
than any human
could imagine.

so when i looked
into your little eyes,

i promised
to give you
the best years

of your golden life.

we’ve been through
so much,

and truth is,
i still need
you in mine.

so i’ll hold
your paws
close to my heart—

because letting go
is the hardest part.

i’m not ready
to say goodbye.

so please,
stay with me

tonight.
written for my labrador, age 11, who’s nearing his final chapter. i hope he still has a little bit of time left. i love him so much.

inspired by backstreet boys’ “i need you tonight.”

this is a poem about love that never speaks, but always stays.
because sometimes, letting go means loving harder.
Joshua Phelps May 15
where is all
the compassion?

the empathy?

oh, humanity—

what a disaster.
left me
dumbstruck.

the world’s
spiraling faster
and faster

into a freefall
of selfishness
and carelessness.

we’re supposed
to move forward—
so why’s everyone
racing back
in time?

do you like
what you’ve become?

do you even
remember
what it’s like
to feel
something?

it’s dumb luck
expecting people
to wake up

when they’re
already dead
inside.

i can’t believe it—
they’re so
hollow.

but i won’t be
the one to follow,
won’t fall
in line.

all it takes
is a little compassion.

a little
understanding.

so next time
you open your mouth—

be kind.
inspired by neck deep’s “dumbstruck dumbf**k.”

a punk-poetic piece on how selfishness, emotional burnout, and apathy are rotting us from the inside out.

mental health awareness starts with compassion—not compliance.
Joshua Phelps May 14
who hurt you
so much now?

get back up
off the ground.

they may have
let you down,

but that doesn't mean
you're down
for the count.

just wait.

give it
a little time—

things happen
for a reason,

and your heart
is aching
for something more.

i know
you’ve been through
a lot.

you’ve tried so hard,
fought to stay afloat—
still breathing
through the weight.

just wait.

lovers come
for a reason,
a season,
or a lifetime.

but seeking
your worth
in someone
who won’t see it

will only leave you
in shambles.

just wait.

the right one
will appear

when you
least expect it.

don’t give up.
you are more
than enough.

just wait.

the right one
will appear—
and they’ll love you
for real.
inspired by slaves’ “i’d rather see your star explode.”

a poem about holding on when you feel unlovable—about choosing to stay soft even when you’re broken.

written for the ones who wait, and the ones learning they’re worth the wait too.
Joshua Phelps May 11
it’s hard
not to feel
withdrawn

when the ones
you love

have crossed
to the other
side.

they’re
never gone,

but it feels
so wrong—

like a song
out of tempo,
out of place.

and you know
nothing can
bring them back,

but still
you do your best
to stay strong.

because life
never stops,

and the ones
you’ve lost

are never
gone.
inspired by mayday parade’s “happy endings are stories that haven’t ended yet.”

written in memory of my mom—gone in body, never in spirit.

this is for anyone trying to carry love through the silence.
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