I walk through life,
sighing.

I am with you,
I sigh.

I eat and sigh.

Releasing energies,
held-back emotions,
frustration or longing.

Could it be that you valued me in every moment,
and in bed, you desired me?

Could it be that you listened to me,
without judging?

Could it be that you inspired me,
without challenging me?

Could it be that I was drawn to your being,
to your values?

Could it be that you respected
and loved my darkness?
Could it be that you gave me peace,
or could it be that I have fallen in love?

Who am I?
How am I?
What am I doing here?

I am not my thoughts,
I am not my feelings,
I am not my mind.

I am a free soul,
I am a poet,
with a sharpened quill,
I am your mirror,
I am your wake-up call.

I write poetry,
stirring your soul,
confronting you with life,
waking you up from sleep.

I am calm,
I am joy,
I am peace,
I am love,
the food that nourishes the soul.

I enter carefully,
I step in slowly,
through the dark corridors,
where you never dared to go.

I do not come to destroy,
I do not come to harm,
rather,
I come to heal.

Let us listen to the silence,
quiet our minds,
and let our hearts speak.

I am a candle
burning past hurts
craving new air
reaching to the sky
leaving a mark

I am stronger than my scars
wiser than my mistakes
more capable than my
insecurities

I can only be me
I will only burn

© 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.

Life kicked me,
even when
I was already down.

It left me so many times,
alone,
thinking no one cared.

I had so much love to give,
but I wasn’t the most beautiful
for those who sought it.

They mocked me
for being strange,
when they were the ones who didn’t understand.

I trusted those who swore to stay,
yet behind my back, they laughed.

I lost myself,
becoming
what others wanted me to be.

I loved who I shouldn’t have,
trusted who I couldn’t,
fought battles that weren’t mine.

Tired of the shadows,
I became light.

Until I learned to play,
to laugh,
and to love.

What did I learn?

Lost.
Every child is born lost,
Every child is born alone.

We enter this world crying,
Small hands reaching for warmth,
A warmth we cannot create alone.

Stumbling, falling,
Too weak to stand on our own,
Helpless, dependent.

Molded by voices not our own,
Taught what to say, how to be,
Following paths laid before us,
Doing as we are told.

But as we grow, we begin to change.
We learn to rise without trembling,
To speak with voices that are now our own,

To walk where our hearts desire,
No longer imitating,
No longer afraid.

Courageous, independent,
Becoming our own saviors,
Because we no longer need another to be—
Found.

To be loved by me  
is like being held underwater  
and expected to learn how to breathe.  

I don’t feel like I’m from here—  
from this planet.  
To love me is inhuman.  

I’m a creature of the night.  
Don’t get too close,  
or you might cause me a fright.  
But if you get just close enough,  
we can have conversations  
that last all night.  

To be loved by me  
is like being drowned…

You lose yourself in me.  
I lose myself in you.  
It’s not just a pattern—  
it’s painted in the stars above,  
the ground below.  
You know we’ve all seen this show.  

I either make landfall  
like a hurricane,  
or like the rain  
that was supposed to come today  
but never bothered to show its face.  

To be loved by me  
is like being drowned…

It’s not that I’m unlovable…  
It’s that I might be intoxicating.  
And you know how it goes  
with toxic things:  
you either can’t put them down,  
or you know better  
than to ever pick them up.  

To be loved by me  
is like being drowned…

But what if I’ve never been those extremes?  
What if that’s just how you’ve chosen to see me?  
What if loving me is not like drowning?  
What if I’ve just been watering your seeds?  
What if we look between the stars and the ground?  

To be loved by me
Is like being drowned?

Is there a different story to be found—  
waiting to be painted  
by someone who can see  
both the stars above  
and the roots beneath the tree?