Long Selflove Poems
Long Selflove Poems. Below are the most popular long Selflove by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Selflove poems by poem length and keyword.
You feel like you would be darker for me than
I would have ever seen
But trust me, my friend...no one else could
ever be darker than me for myself
I made double attempts for my life
And no one else is ever going to do that
Making conscious choices..every second every minute of my life
Prioritizing people's opinions over my mental well-being....
I have tried every single thing
I have regrets but I'm learning how to enjoy life
And I would like to indulge myself for a couple more years
With regrets come realizations and with
realizations comes the responsibility to
figure out what I wanna do with my life
and I, my friend, am really interested in
dancing my way through life
Our phones glow brighter than the stars at night,
Our laptops keep us working till morning light.
We scroll through lives that seem perfect and bright,
While hiding our own tears far out of sight.
Social networks whisper, “You are not enough,”
Turning simple days into battles tough.
We chase notifications, likes, and praise,
And slowly lose ourselves in endless maze.
When stress grows heavy and anxiety stays,
We search for medicines to soften the days.
Some light a cigarette to calm the mind,
Yet leave another silent wound behind.
At midnight, sleep stands waiting at the door,
But restless thoughts keep asking for more.
Insomnia becomes our quiet friend,
While exhausted minds refuse to end.
We are more connected than ever before,
Yet sometimes feel alone at our own door.
Perhaps the healing begins when we learn to disconnect,
And give our tired hearts the peace and love they deserve.
- Jolly Muhury Samui :(
Help me to
find identity in you
understand my worth
value your standards
recognize my unique qualities
designed by you
Lord, to you I pray
Help me to
appreciate me
see myself the way you see me
understand that you Lord
fashioned me too a little lower than the angels
view you as my author and designer
Lord, before you these things I lay
Help me to
see you crowned me with glory and honor too
know you made me to have dominion over the creation as well
understand you put all things under my feet to boot
ask you to quiet the voice that whispers otherwise
seek your satisfaction and yours alone
Lord, I utter your praise today
Help me to
hear your voice
taste your perfection
realize you will make my life successful
comprehend I have no power
perceive all power is yours, Father Yah
Lord, give me ears to say
My windowpane whispers the outer world’s language.
Wisps of wind howl through barren trees, whistling against my chamber’s cold edges—a delicate soundtrack to the restitching of my being that a frosty winter night permits.
Spring fostered overgrowth.
Summer hacked through it with a hatchet, leaving Fall to tend the wounds— to decay and decay and decay.
I plunge my mutilated hands into icy tap water, each sting and tingle alive with vivid memory.
My candle’s flame dances with my measured inhales and exhales,
its crackle harmonizing with the wind’s low howl.
I hunch over the incandescence- the only warm-toned brushstroke in my deep blue cave.
It’s enough light to see where the year has sliced my appendages and what is worth tending.
I stitch my splitting fingers one by one.
The faces I once touched with diamond edges flicker in the candlelight as thread pulls through skin.
The thorns I wove myself into for the glimmering berry at the vine’s end wrap my wrists in phantom pain as I change my bandages.
Each winter I arrive at the same wisdom.
Do not take off your leather gloves at the first sight of longer days.
But how sweet it feels to touch even if it draws blood.
I set the needle down and flex my hands before me, as if admiring a fresh manicure
not healed but cared for from another year of living.
I blow out the fire out with a huff and crawl into my now completely cobalt nook.
Closing my eyes not to awake until the dark loosens its grip
Until frost unlatches the windowpane and the winds shake and rattle through lush leaves
and light relearns my name.
I sleep with mended hands on my chest,
palms still tender,
dreaming of sap rising,
of gloves folded neatly by the door,
waiting to be ran past again and again.
My muse me muse you amuse me.
My muse me muse we amuse unity.
My muse me muse we sometimes amuse abuse.
My muse me muse we amuse our children with charity.
My muse me muse we amuse dying as an art of living.
My muse me muse we amuse gratitude.
My muse me muse we amuse reading.
My muse me muse we amuse learning from each other.
My muse me muse me amuse peers as friends.
My muse me muse we amuse pure joy in each.
My muse you muse we amuse inspiration from everyone.
Me muse me muse we amuse self acceptance as our normality.
You amuse me I muse, we amuse self-appreciation and love for me and you all.
#Forthepeers/Friends/Family/ForThoseWhoNeed/# ~ Benjamin Luke Aguas ~
She still lives somewhere behind the ribs—
that teenage girl, all sharp corners and questions,
knees pulled to her chest in a room
no one ever really entered.
You can see her sometimes
in the mirror’s hesitation—
in the uneven chop of kitchen scissors,
in the stubborn black box dye
that never quite holds the same shade twice.
In the tattoos that blur at the edges,
inked like dares she made to herself
just to feel something stay.
Now there are dishes in the sink,
a phone buzzing with reminders,
small hands or heavy expectations
reaching for her—
asking her to be solid,
to be steady,
to be grown.
But she’s still learning
how to stand without shaking.
Some mornings,
the sun feels like an accusation—
burning through eyelids
that bargain for five more minutes
of not being here,
of not remembering.
Because memory is not a story—
it’s a weight.
It’s a fog that clings to the lungs,
turning breath into labor,
turning simple things
into mountains with no paths.
And her brain—
it does not sing or spark
the way people say it should.
It hums low,
flickers,
runs on survival settings.
Feed yourself.
Keep them safe.
Make it through today.
Everything else is static.
Still—
she shows up.
With chipped polish and tired eyes,
with love that feels clumsy
but is real in its persistence.
With a voice that sometimes trembles
but still says,
“I’m here.”
And maybe that’s where she’s found—
not in some grand revelation,
not in becoming whole overnight,
but in the quiet, stubborn act
of staying.
Of being both the girl
and the woman
at once—
holding her own hand
through the dark,
whispering to herself
like no one ever did:
we’re not done yet.
The true self is still hidden
For me it's not too sudden
Still immature to travel alone
And a girl that is not flown
It's a story of fairy with unconscious feeling like dreams
Of becoming an Astronaut and fly like have wings
My faith in world is fading slowly
Like I'm walking towards darkness daily
Yesh it's a story of a fairy
Loving, caring but still scary
I'm breathing heavily
I had seen something that was really deadly
It's all easy for me now
Because I'm used to it anyhow
Yes I'm hurt and asking for what
I'm alone to understand, but you cannot
Sometimes I think is everything a reality
But this is not the clarity
You cannot push your frustration
Neither stay in depression
Still the ending must be happy
And for that I'm always crappy
Though it's just a journey of up's and down's
Let's play it like a game- like mile of rounds
No matter how hard it is to get over
I'll be only your forever
For me it's not too sudden
Because my true self is still hidden
I can be a leader.
I do not need to follow the actions and behaviors of others.
What harm?
Oh, but what gain?
I am fierce
With a lot to say,
A lot of love
And a lot of passion.
Simple pleasures
And little disappointments.
Just be who I want to be,
Not what others see;
What others want me to be.
I am more than a perception.
I am loud and proud,
Bold and fearless.
I have a courage
And strength that is limitless.
I am learning to vocalize my boundaries;
Free from guilt and shame.
There is an ocean inside me that you cannot tame.
My waters run deep
You merely tread the surface.
I know who I am
And I will take up space.
Breathless and discouraged,
I will still run the race.
Dip your feet in the edge of my waters
And let me wash over you.
Familiarize yourself with the polarity
Of my sensations.
I will not let you down.
I will not let you drown
If you meet me without malice.
Dare.
Do.
Every rejection, a redirection
Don't be ashamed or let it tame you.
Don't let them change you,
If they won't accept who you are.
People don't value
What they can't control or own,
Just stay in your lane doing it your way.
Many only wanna partake
In your blessings not lessons
I hope you understand this!
Just be you as you are, do you
Always look forward
Don't be a coward
Let go of all that no longer serve or value your worth.
Master yourself
Know your mind, for it's the only limitation
Let no one belittle you
Leave wherever you're not welcomed.
Whenever you're rejected;
Give yourself selflove injection,
Steadily giving yourself self reliance.
Love can be used to deceive.
They use words to achieve their plan.
The plan of love, it seems, but later you learn they only want to deceive.
To take control of your life and make you sad and cling to life.
They do this with such delight; they smile and give you feelings of love.
Yet the whole time, they have a plan.
The plan to cause you great pain.
Stay in the light and learn the signs, stay clear of all that work for evil and bad intent.
Stay in God's prayers and stay in love with yourself.
Don’t let anyone steal your light.
You are so loved by God and need to stay in the light.