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Thank you for the finger of justice, Pointed sharp and clear, For showing me your stance, In moments fraught with fear.
Thank you for the sleepless nights, When you thought I was wrong, For the distance you maintained, When our harmony was gone. Thank you for the silence, When you believed I ruined your day, For the cold shoulder turned, in your own, distinct way. For all these acts and more, l offer my gratitude true, For in your actions, I found clarity, And saw the real you.
For those who have ever felt the sting of so-called justice from a loved one
Traveler Jan 6
Love unspoken
Tends to waver
A few warm moments
A few special favors
Even as the good friend
Or the teacher's pet
Acceptance may be
All you get
So when and if
I decide to show it
Unspoken or not
   Now you know it...
Traveler Tim

It just kind of falls out the bottom..
It’s hidden in my heart,
Behind lock and key,
Always present,
Yet never free.

Spoken into existence so long ago,
As bridges burned ever so slow.
I didn’t mean to bury these dreams so deep,
But in fragile spaces, they could not sleep.

I couldn’t let them define who I was,
For fear of a mold,
Shaped by others' expectations
Of what they thought was right for me.

They were ever so close—
A whisper of truth, a flicker of light—
But really, they were far,
Out of reach, hidden in the night.

Now, it doesn’t matter;
The dream stays locked in my heart.
It cannot escape; it cannot exist.
The time has passed; it’s too late for this.

It takes two to want this dream to breathe,
But why does its captivity still grieve me?
Why does it staying locked feel so wrong?
A quiet ache that lingers so long.

Maybe, just maybe, he’ll want this too,
And in one shared moment,
He’ll break through,
Unlocking the door, setting us both free,
A shared vision of love and legacy.

But I don’t think he will;
That fear runs deep,
A shadowed truth I hold and keep.

And so I whisper to myself,
“It’s the divine’s will,
A path unseen, a space to fill.”

Yet still, the lock presses heavy on my heart,
Its weight a reminder of dreams kept apart.
I wonder, I hope, but silence remains,
And in the quiet, I feel the pain.
This is not meant to be a poem.

Never delete what you were. Even though it doesn't reflect your current being. You must be proud of what you were because it got you until now and it prepared you. It gave you the tools. It WAS you and hence it IS still you.

Never be ashamed of the love you felt and gave. Instead. Grow in love and grow the love.

And if things did not go the best possible way. Well. What even is the best possible way? Things went the only way possible. You learn from what happens and live the way you think is best for you. Maybe learning from mistakes too.

There are no true immortal beings, but immortal are the feelings we feel and the ideas that we bring to others. This is because ideas and feelings will move through generations as long as someone is willing to talk about them. Share them. Write them. And speak about them with other people.

This is magic.

I guess that's all.
मैं आपकी तरह छिपा हुआ नहीं हूं, इसलिए कृपया मुझे लिखें या संदेश भेजें। मैं आपको उचित उत्तर देना चाहूँगा
DJQuill Dec 2024
Presents under the tree
Screaming parents
Not feeling part of my family
My hair is to blame
My clothes are to blame
I am to blame
An ordinary Christmas
A perfect Christmas
Next year will be different
Asher Dec 2024
Sometimes all I need
a soul to mirror my own.  
Am I too much, though?
showyoulove Dec 2024
So often I fall into sin. More often than not, it's the same one or two. I fall down again and again and it's hard to not get discouraged. I heard a beautiful song today that said "a saint is just a sinner who fell down... and got back up again. There are good days, weary days and bad days, but in the end the good days outweigh the bad days and so I won't complain". To me, it's a simple and beautiful reminder of something we all too often forget. In a contemplation from St. Thomas Merton, it said that hell is hatred and it's a hatred not of other, but of what we know others see in ourselves. It is the "curse of shattered sight". (A secular TV reference, but well applicable for these purposes). Sin is a symptom of this shattered sight as well. It is a desire for the good, but the good is twisted and distorted and we are caught in the trap of "looking for love in all the wrong places". We see the worst things that other people see in us and fail to see the good. We end up turning against each other and destroying ourselves. The love that satisfies and fulfills is the love of God for us, his beloved children. He loves us and accepts us for who we are: good, bad, shattered sight and all and he sent His only son to die for us when we were his foe. How great is the Father's love for us! To be truly free, we must admit to ourselves that we are imperfect, and we make mistakes. Even when we ***** up pretty bad, good family and friends still love us, accept us, encourage and challenge us to move forward and keep doing better. If there are those like us who can do that, then surely God, in his perfection, will do that all the more! Accept yourself fully and embrace all of who you are. We cannot truly love others or be loved by others if we don't love ourselves. Next time you fall, remember: Jesus fell (in love) for you, and he fell three times (out of the fullness of love) for you, and got back up again.

Lord Jesus, please grant us the strength and grace to get up again when we fall down. Help us accept and love ourselves without condition as you first did for us. By your grace and mercy, heal us from this shattered sight in accordance with your will and may we find comfort and solace by your side in the shadow of the cross. Amen.
Inspired in part by a contemplation from St. Thomas Merton
DeVaughn Station Dec 2024
The teeth are brittle and break away.
Blood spills and leaves me…
Alone. It’s been getting worse since May.
Flowers that used to give me color, just remind me of Gray. The sea can’t grow,
no co-sign for my loans,
and tangents never helped me anyway.
The question of “Why?”, equaled ex’s that got eliminated, division from dimensions, so nothing Remains. I can’t integrate happiness into dysfunction, but my voices want to play. They’re constant and fill me with dismay. Help is so far away, it’s just another sign of my exponential decay.

He keeps feeling broken day by day.
This life isn’t a game but us demons keep giving him the play-by-play. The thoughts never go, they stay, drowning his stupid *** again and again until night turns day.
Pills and people are needed but unable to change his way. “Is it possible to substitute U?” He wasn’t needed anyway. He’s so ******* annoying, just call him Billie Kay. What’s the going price of a casket in this age and day? No one will notice him gone,
they couldn’t even say his name.
He appears most likely in Hell, it’s a praise day.
Nah we won’t even hurt him, he ain’t worth the flame.
Bit by bit he’s already done, with so much exponential decay.
Bree17 Dec 2024
Everyday is like the last
Every week a blurry mess
How I wish to make it stop
Just to hurt a little less

But how could I do that
When the reason for all this pain
Is the only thing I cannot fix
The only thing I cannot regain

When what's causing all this pain
Is a pain all by itself
The pain of losing love
That steals us from ourselves

Oh, the beauty of it
That we've all come to hate
And no matter what we do
No one can prevent fate
drowning in the old pages of a long forgotten journal
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