Courage is

the verdant newborn grass sprout

thrusting

through layers of

stony, craggy, chalk-defaced sidewalk cement-

taking a risk,

in order to thrive

in its hostile

“wrong”

unforgiving

environment.

Courage is

the fragile young orchard seedling

pushing, pushing, pushing evermore

through layers of

moist, thick, tightly packed peat soil,

of death and decay,

taking a risk-

in order to

provide shade and bear fruit;

in order to grow

in its hostile

“wrong”

unforgiving

environment.

Courage is

me: a delicate, still maturing, unique individual

climbing, fighting, clawing,

through layers of muck and mire,

of pain and suffering,

of darkness and despair,

those places I seem to feel oddly “at home”-

taking quite the risk-

in order to

give light and share hope;

in order to live

(without fear and blame,

without guilt, without shame);

in order to thrive

and to grow…

in my own somewhat hostile

seemingly “wrong”

somewhat unforgiving

environment.

#poetry #personal #emotional #courage #growth #journey #trauma #survivor

My existence has

meaning,

that power source fueling

my daily decision

to continue living,

because

-despite

its acute pain

and more chronic suffering-

I can still...

feel cared for

when friends

go out of their way

to check on me,

just because;

feel worthwhile or necessary

when someone, anyone,

is willing to articulate

the ways I’ve positively impacted

their life;

feel the full heart of a caretaker

when Mooshie and Gem

meow

as they hear my voice over the phone,

run

to greet me with affection and admiration;

feel beautiful

when he

stops

in his tracks-

just to take in a second glance;

feel valuable

when we

cry and cry,

do our best to make things right,

and there I find him

still snuggled

next to me,

molded

to my body’s curves,

seeping

into each nook and every cranny

the next morning;

feel hopeful

when my eyes

take in the sunrise

or my skin

its rays-

warmed by light

at last;

feel cleansed

when I

feel the gentle caress

of the water-

renewed,

as the old

is taken away

and the new

is finally

given a place;

feel large and grand

as I

remember,

savor

my victories of this life-

allowing myself

pride, praise;

feel small and insignificant

as I

gaze

into the depths

of the vast night sky-

pondering possibilities,

feeling free;

feel safe

when he

wraps me

in the blankets,

cradles me

in his arms,

I hear

his steady breathing,

look over

to see

his face- calm-

everything

will be okay.

#poetry #personal #life #journey #gratitude #positive #positivity #perspective

(Life)

a beautifully delicate,

yet forceful and strong

nutcracker-

poised

around the neck of

(Me)

a plainly forgettable,

yet sturdy and steadfast

bottle of All-Purpose Glue...

I-

on the outside:

opaque,

unassuming,

yet full to the brim

with a goopy, sticky mess-

my own carefully hidden secrets and pain

and

It-

appearing:

flawless,

fine,

yet cold and unfeeling in truth,

ready to crack me in two-

leaving my “mess”

spilling out

into the open…

Seemingly catastrophic.

Yet,

upon some reflection,

perhaps

not so…

Yes, I am

filled to the brim

with a goopy, sticky “mess”

but

this substance

brings and holds

things together,

I’ve found.

Bizarre phenomenon.

So,

maybe,

perhaps,

this process

called life-

this bursting,

this breaking,

this coming out into the open-

is less catastrophe

and more opportunity…

To use

the goopy stickiness

of my “mess”,

its many varied lessons,

its “all purpose-ness”,

to hold myself

and bring others

together-

to be

the glue

I’ve always needed.

#poetry #personal #emotional #reflect #reflection #hope #positive #positivity

Until I break these chains of fear,

Until I escape from you, my dear,

Until I eventually run from love,

Until I give my soul to the stars above,

I will never let you break my heart.

I will never agree to play that part.

I will never be your mindless puppet.

I will never take your disrespect.

I will always remember how much I cried.

I will always know how often you lied.

I will always see you tear others down.

I will always know that no one is around.

You have lost my trust.

You have lost my faith.

You have lost my love.

You have lost.

And you will always lose,

Maybe one day you'll learn,

As I write of your wrongs,

And become better, finally.

This three letter, one syllable word is a noun.

A feline is called a cat.

This is a word we teach young children when they first start talking because it is so easy to say. Almost as easy as dog, but not quite.

Curiosity can kill a cat.

It is difficult to bell a cat.

A cat is independent.

Some people don’t like a cat, because she is mean.

Until I met my cat, I thought the same.

Then one night, I found an itty-bitty cat with an eye infection and took her in.

From that day, the meaning of the word cat changed.

Cat is fluffy.

Cat is grey with dark grey stripes.

Cat has a white underbelly.

Cat has multi-colored paws.

Cat has green eyes and a button nose.

Cat has sandpaper tongue.

Cat likes to sleep with her back touching mine.

Cat rubs her face on my face.

Cat jumps into my arms when I get home.

Cat likes cuddles.

Cat is warm.

Cat is love.

Dont be afride I am with you. You see the sun think of me, It will dry your tears and show my never ending love for you. Know all those nasty things I said wasnt true, that you are the most importent thing in my life even though it was short. It didnt hurt, and I am not alone. Grammys up here and so is ungle. I see my Heavenly father and his son. He hugs me all day and told me to tell you he will keep me safe until you come home again. He says he loves you too and hes proud. I am too! So please dont be sad, I am with you and its better up here then down there, I am home. I now know why I always felt weird on Earth, Its because it wasnt were I belonged, it wasnt my home. But know i am finally home. Until we meet again know that there is never a time that I wont be with you and please let the sun dry up your tears cause one day you will be with me fovere and more.

Beware the seven

Sometimes we seem sweet

Sometimes brutal and cruel

But this is the world we live in

And it's in this one, we rule

You dont always realise it's happening. You think the thoughts are your own.

The way we pull and push your strings will always be unknown

Sometimes we hide in the darkness. Hidden in the veil of black.

But often we're right in front of you. Smiling as we attack.

As puppets you continue to believe that the desperation is just a sudden surprise

You dont know that we control you, even as you look in our eyes.

Rarely you get quite clever. And come to know how powerful we be.

Although you watch as we play our games, You very rarely see.

We pull your strings and we tap your brains until you're the person we want the most.

Your body is pretty and often used, but it is now only a host.

Inside, you are ours. You belong to us, in ways you could only dream.

You reach a new level and think yourself proud as you let your soul be seen.

As puppet masters we'll snatch at the offer, twisting until you sin.

You may think you're strong, but we're almighty and eventually you'll let us in.

You are the prettiest, little possession....

Beware the seven.

Entertaining, a complete joy.

Obnoxious teenagers

I won't be annoyed.

Everything is great, I'm never bored.

With no classes in which I want to ignore.

No students who make me question society.

Wait, that might have been sarcasm in all of this writing.

I love to write

I love to write

I love the way your brain sparks with imagination

I love the way I can create life with the flick of my pen

I love how every word creates a new feeling

I love to write