Vulnerability Poems - Poems about Vulnerability

a crab sheds his shell vulnerable for six weeks a new shell appears stronger than ever he struts across the beach sand less vulnerable ...

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After poem for "How Do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning I offered you trust, an open door without locks, My heart lay exposed, vulnerable on the rocks. You entered with a grin, words sweet as honey, But your exhale was ice, your caress felt phony. You spoke of my glow, then left me in the dark,...

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They say boys don’t cry. They say it like a promise. Like strength is stitched in our skin at birth and weakness is something you have to unzip your chest to find. I was eight when I learned that sadness had a gender. That girls get tissues, and boys get told to “tough it out.” That scraped knees get band-aids, but broken hearts? Those just get...

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(On Father's Day) Like most mornings, I awoke, Got out of bed on the left side. Not sure if that was the wrong side, But I know for certain, It wasn’t the right side. Aloneness is sort of that way— No offer of a second opinion, No pat-on-the-back save a broken arm, No meaningful conversation around the table. A moment of nihility—this morning. ...

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Clad in bright white sapphire Millions crawl, the exhausted lay to admire Within its swelling eye thousands desire At the back I lie, waiting to expire Scratching the walls without respire I danced into crossfire With a soul which yearns to retire Lips littered with satire A heart prosecuted to hellfire Still, my porcelain surface shone as if a luminaire Slowly the winds fill...

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Love takes pain— it bleeds you long before it dries you out. Only those with blood to spare survive it. It takes so much to live through that bleeding. A needle— that’s all it takes. Love finds an infinite number of them. Like thorns beneath rose petals, it hides in beauty and pierces without warning. It won’t ever leave you alone until it drains your...

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Maybe I was too much— too loud in a world that whispers, too present where absence feels safer, too eager where waiting kills quietly. Maybe I sent the first message because silence scared me more, because every ‘seen’ without reply felt like a door slowly closing on my chest. Maybe I asked too many questions— not because I doubted, but because I needed to know if...

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I crawl through darkness — small, scared, biting at shadows to keep my life, to keep my fear away. I hold my breath, keep still, hiding trembling beneath the strike, trying not to break, trying not to pour my heart out. Everyone sees the fight — the flash of scales, the flicker of anger — but no one sees the fear that claws beneath the surface, the quiet battle I...

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How do I feel? More than the touch of a hand, it is the stirrings of the soul like the brush of the winds encircling the quiet eye of a storm. Do I feel the shadow of your pain cast upon my face? Do I feel the warmth of your imagination surrounding me? Do I feel the softness of your moist lips with your tender...

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Cancer is only for others, Walking its own quiet road: The smoker’s sigh, The alcoholic’s plight, The old tree, The young, the budding seed— Babies, life’s fragile heartbeat… Medical advancements—progress marching, Cures, new hopes discovered With each sunrise. Everyone wants to know. Everyone needs the truth. The truth is sad. Cancer, a path we think not our own… Is cancer only for others? ...

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If I start all over again, This time, will you fall in love with me? If I play your favorite songs, Will you find yourself lost in me? If I call you for an evening tea, Will you come with a bouquet of roses, carefree? If I buy red bangles just to see you smile, Will you wear them with pride, even...

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Like a seed Planted for a tree, I grow and grow My back, strong and tall Through thorns and thistles. You can't tell me I've not been through enough And I still won't go through some things more. But I'll flourish like a palm tree Just like the Psalms said Under the gentle care of the vine grower Clinging unto the branches Well aware of how...

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A careful constructed system that’s designed to lead to failure few escapes, leaving the rest to be taken advantage of those who escape reaches a certain level then prey on the weak by selling hopes and dreams, hope and dreams that rarely come true. The game is being sold as the truth remains concealed while those continue to profit off the ignorance...

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Migrants on the move from violence their only possession breath-space on a smuggler’s boat secured with back-bent harvests in pretzel-bent systems weight of crates of strawberries hoisted on hell-bent backs just trying to reach Spanish-shores’-east from Moroccan beach with a camel-mystique —the seaway west of Africa a rags-wearing-flotsam grave migrants on the move from Cameroon die —or survive a militia-cocktail blend of...

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Life's got me in a chokehold, but it's not the same asphyxiation that I crave. I loathe when pouring my heart out is seen as "very brave" When it's not bravery that compells me, But hope. Hope for a better future for those who relate And some kind of catharsis for my pain. It does not take bravery to tell a...

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