A soul once broken a life once feared, The weight of my words and cheeks covered in tears, Silence screams in an empty life, The emotions and tension you could cut with a knife, Scars still tender wounds still raw, There's no way I could of took any more, In the mirror a reflection stares, A face once broken now slowly repairs, I look in the mirror and say 'dont let her win' But the memories of pain still hide deep within, I'm a fighter I'm a survivor I'm alive, and now I'm aiming to thrive, I was a soul once broken, but now my whole body and mind has woken
Everybody has a story
What about mine
Everyone has their own tales to tell
I am still waiting for my turn to shine
Motivated one day
Wanting to die the next
Hoping for the miracle
Unwilling to take the step
Just not it
That's the way to describe me
Just one step late
Self trapped in a prison , afraid of being free
Lost in the loopholes
Searching for an end
Yet running from the outcome
Which I can't comprehend
What can I do now
Life's going away
Faster than I want it to
I am aware of the pace
I am obligated to surrender to
Maybe this was my destiny
My life was meant to be a cautionary tale
Just so others were free to sail
I didn’t realise how early it started —
the slow unravelling,
the way life kept taking pieces of me
I wasn’t old enough to name.
I learned to carry it quietly,
to pretend the weight was muscle
and not the ache of being overlooked.
And the years kept moving,
and I kept shrinking to fit them,
teaching myself to stay small
so no one would notice the cracks.
I became fluent in holding it together,
in swallowing the words
that might have saved me
if I’d ever dared to speak them.
There were nights I lay awake
feeling my own heartbeat
like a stranger in the room,
wondering how something
so tired
could keep going anyway.
And mornings where I rose
not out of hope,
but out of habit —
because stopping felt louder
than surviving ever did.
This is my story —
the one I never meant to tell,
the one written in the quiet places
where no one thought to look.
And if you feel something shift
inside you as you read this,
if a familiar ache stirs,
then maybe you know the truth too:
some of us learned to live
by pretending we weren’t hurting.
Some of us are only now learning
that we deserved better
than silence.
there was once a boy named dylan and dylan was insecure, then comes along a girl he thinks will be the cure. he showers her with praise, she gives a little back too but little does dylan know she’ll leave him feeling blue. now dylan had been affection deprived and his health declined, he’d try to talk to her but she wouldn’t even bat an eye. so eventually she’s been given enough praise and she’s done with dylan, time to move onto the next guy and become this story’s villain. dylan was left with guilt he thought it was his fault you see, he thought that the relationship was truly meant to be. now dylan’s health declined and he almost set his soul free, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it because he had grown too weak. now dylan has his friends, but amongst them he is lonesome, he has became completely numb and has hardly even grown from the same boy i spoke of at the start of this story. that boy is me and i don’t say that with much glory, i hope this finds the right people who will read and understand, hopefully my story will continue to expand.
My life has ups and downs
Sometimes happy, sad, and angry
But in the end will have forgiveness
As we are all made by Father in Heaven
This is my story, this is my life
A person who is silent
But will be here by your side
To give the best of mine
My story need not involve a person’s glory
though I hope it will be interestingly oratory
and preferably self-explanatory
rather than overly expository.
To titillate my readers, I could even make it just a wee bit gory.
My name's ANGIE, are you listening?
I grew up listening to that group called Rolling Stones
I was told you're wasting your time by dreaming
They never knew how harsh they were with those tones.
YOU CAN'T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT
Words they thought were normal for dreamers
I didn't see why not, nothing could stop that
Until one RUBY TUESDAY I was caught with dealers.
Saw WILD HORSES flex with TUMBLIN DICE
Thinking I'd now be one of the HONKY TONK WOMEN
I didn't think I'd be caught playing with fire in ice
Next to the stolen car he said "PAINT IT BLACK".
The policeman on the other side is on my track
Asking, "how did she escape UNDER MY THUMB?"
I didn't know there would be no going back
It was a once-off deal but I guess that too was dumb.
When I tell my story, the past unwinds.
Poet me
Poetry
That’s the treasure that you find.
A narrative woven from threads
of joy and tears, As words flow forth
like a river's stream I relive each moment,
relive each dream The highs and lows,
the twists and turns A story of growth,
of lessons learned
When I tell my story, I find my voice
Whether you listen or not that’s your choice
I said whether I like me or not, that's your choice.
At the end of the day I will tell my story
I rise with the sun
I let my melanin glow
Rhyming and vibing as
If I did it before.
where every thread is a memory,
a moment, a choice.
The fabric of my past is fragile,
prone to unraveling,
yet resilient,
for it has shaped the person I am today.
I find solace in the knowledge
that I am not alone
With each spoken word,
I confront the ghosts that haunt me,
In my mental home.
When I tell my story, memories unfold,
With every word, a chapter's spun,
Of laughter, tears, and lessons learned, begun.
My story does not exist within the pages of a book, rather in memories, smells, sights, sounds, behaviors of the subconscious, and in thoughts of the future. It exists on my skin, in my body, and things forgotten. It exists in the people I've met and the places I've been.
Another page of the story,
One to turn into glory,
As I create my history.
I head toward my victory,
Turning moments into eternity,
Making the most of the story.
I bask in the Glory,
I AM a living never-ending story.
You know,
I am a restless woman
from centuries past,
Who does not know
the address of her home.
I am searching
For the address of my home.
The house where I was born,
Had wealth that was not my own.
I worked,
Toiled,
And in all joys and sorrows,
I was a companion,
Yet I remained always an outsider.
In the house where I came
After marriage,
Carrying thousands of dreams,
I was called the girl of the outsider home.
I managed both home and outside,
Yet remained an outsider.
Today I have become old,
Now the owner of the house
Is my son.
Even now, I do not know
The address of my home.
My story has begun,
come listen my daughter and son.
Colorful building blocks are always fun,
look I am almost done.
We can go outside and run,
playing under the big yellow sun.
Gray elephant daddy won,
my animal friends I love each one.
Stop watching my story and start watching yours
the ones where shes beautiful and the one you adore
when you take pictures with her in matching sets
but your hearts on my insta make me think you have regrets
you cant have your cake and eat me too
so i guess ill be the one to see this through
with a simple remove follower, block and unfriend
ill put your gazing eyes and adultery to an end
cause you flaunt who you are and all you guys do
but i would have never been that girl to you
you never gave me the same opportunity or chance
never gave my plus size body a second glance
second class citizen in your firls class world
go like her story, she is your girl.
It's about time I tell you my story-
so jot down notes, and take inventory.
I've been there, done it too-
I've left my past behind me, and started anew.
I've been in relationships, and I've been alone-
I've made it through, all on my own.
I am not stuck on any past ordeals-
I empathize with others and I know how it feels.
I've lived in many neighborhoods, some not so nice-
Most of the areas were good, and suffice.
I had my share of bad decisions-
Wrong choice's were my life's collisions.
I've lived, I've loved, I've envied, as well-
I've even lived behind bars, incarcerated in a cell.
I've been charged, and I've been convicted-
Not at all the life that I had depicted.
I've seen wicked, evil people in my time-
straight up demonic slime.
Once I had a man try to beat me into submission-
I've even had my bouts with the disease of addiction.
I lost opportunities and run out of chances-
Poor choices were life's circumstances.
I continue forward and try not to dwell-
No longer living in my own created Hell.
My hearts been chopped, sliced and grated
By everybody who has hated
The way my life has been going
True feelings never showing
Hiding all the pain down deep
A happy smile tryna keep
Up the illusion it don't hurt
How I get treated like dirt
I can't help the way I am
Why can't others understand
I'm not a geek, loser or nerd
But my whole life I have heard
Remarks so derogatory
Take the time to know my story
Why I don't drink or do drugs
Then you'd change your words to hugs
Opening your heart and eyes
Finally you would realize
This little girl who raised herself
Without any kind of help
Is gonna stay drug free and clean
Alcohol will not be seen
In her body, I refuse
To be put through the abuse
Like other people from my past
Respecting myself and this task
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