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Tag: poetry

F*ck it. Smile.

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You know how we see motivational speakers and when they’re done speaking, for a few minutes we believe the world won’t eat us alive? Me too.

I’m not saying that your dreams are too far out of reach; I’m not saying that you shouldn’t believe their light.

I’m saying that at this very moment, I’ve done all of the things that my spirit and creator asked of me. I’ve pushed myself out of my comfort zone, I’ve let myself see and be seen, and I’m proud of myself.

Still, it sucks when then there is little to show for it.

If you’ve put your last few dollars into a dream, your last bit of faith in a cause that seems to turn it’s head, if you’ve struggled to see results, or if you’ve doubted your purpose at all, I’m here with you.

When It seems easier to light a match and watch it all burn, while simultaneously flipping the debris a middle finger, (I can’t believe I’m about to say this) SMILE.

Can’t pay rent? Fuck it. Something will shake, or you’ll move on. See the road.

Got cancer? Fuck it. You’re still alive and beautiful. Your sickness does not define your legacy.

Homeless? Fuck it. Mortgages are expensive.

Negative in the bank account? Well, now you damn sure cant give those thieves your money.

I empathize with you, and I say these things to help laughter bubble up in your chest.

When we can’t choose anything else, we can choose to laugh.

I love you.

Welcome Home.

You’re safe here. <3

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Oh hey, it’s me again.

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I’m currently working on my podcast and patreon for y’all. In the meantime, I’ll be uploading more poetry.

I’m Here For You

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Instead of telling you to keep going, instead of telling you that things will improve, I will sit with you. I will shoulder that burden with you. I will sleep on that floor with you. I will eat in the dark with you. I will lurk on the streets with you. I’ll break through windows so that you can feed your hungry children, with you. I will be there as you cry yourself to sleep for the fourth time this week. I’ll be there when life’s laughing at you, yet again. I’ll be there. Thank you for letting me be there for you. I love you.

Welcome Home.

You’re safe here.

A.D.D.

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The personality of a stinging bumblebee,
This tongue defies gravity.

Mind the words,
Mustn't make them feel threatened.

Talking too much -
Too often our conversation's death sentence.

See, here I go again!

These parables in my throat,
Plead for ice-water
There is a special kind of Hell for untold stories.

I'd offer you apologies,
But that would turn into ten-million other stories
Probably about how I've always been made to apologize
For the gymnasts that are my thoughts.

They only know summersaults and headstands.
And all I wanted to say was,
Yeah, I hear you. I understand.




				

The Magician Who Burnt His Cookies

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The Magican Who Burnt His Cookies,
Drew a home on them first.

He's free to create whatever he wishes,
For just a few monthly payments of muddy bridges!

He never asked to be a Wizard;
His Destiny begged to differ.

I have failed. Here’s Why I’m Okay With That.

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I will never again go to a school, job, or organization that does not value its students. I will never enter a shady job simply because it is a job. My time, brain and stress levels deserve better. You do too. Know your worth!

I entered school (College) in January 2019. I was determined to succeed and not waste any more of my life.

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Up until this moment, I have had a 4.0 GPA. I put all of my time, effort and energy into being there, and doing well. Things started out great until I reached out for disability accommodations, and then this [dis]organization revealed itself.

I was supposed to start at this school and then transfer to get my B.A. in Psych; I would then move on to my Master’s in Marriage and Family Therapy. It looks like I won’t be able to do that now. At least, not at this moment.

However, though I am disappointed, I remain unfazed by this. I am unfazed because I know I did my part 100%.

I purchased practice-test books, hundreds of dollars in school supplies, and this doesn’t include proctoring fees I was charged (which by the way, I did not even need to purchase because I’m not on campus, but was never refunded).

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As an example:
I wrote entire chapters by hand because something was off with the tests. What we were given to study was nothing like the exams we were assigned.

I thought I was crazy. Maybe I hadn’t studied hard enough – maybe I had to think outside of the box. So, I did. Still, the second and third exam came around, and again the tests did not match what we (my classmates and I) had read.

Lo and beholds, seventy-eight other students had the same issue. The. Exact. Same. One.


It was then that I realized other schools had the same exams word-for-word; apparently, it was what I had suspected – the materials were mismatched. I was so weirded out!

When the other students reached out to the professor, they were told it was something they, themselves had done wrong!

I’m guessing the teacher saw where I pointed out the tests were mismatched and felt as if I were playing hero. (To be honest, I guess I was, but there were so many students who had worked just as hard as me, I couldn’t stand the injustice and I felt compelled to help out).

So, I try to be a good person. Stone me.


(I did not cheat, I googled the answers BEFORE the tests, not during).

A few weeks later, one professor tells me that I have not read the chapters.
(Remember, of course I read them. I wrote them!)

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I was pissed off. I sent the professor photos of my handwriting on the work we were assigned – three to four pages front and back.

NO RESPONSE! NOTHING.

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I suspect this professor may believe I was cheating, because the institution’s name and password (that I need to enter class) has been removed. When I try to do the assignments, I simply can’t. I’ve sent multiple messages to no avail.

I learned that the “school” is on probation. Enrolled students were sent “word-salad”:
“We’re on probation but we assure you we are dedicated!”


What a crock.

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I can no longer give my all to shitty places, people, or even things that do not value dedication.

You shouldn’t either.

Do you know what that’s like? Running full speed at a brick wall? I bet you do, and I bet you’ve learned this lesson too. For that, I commend you for keeping your head on straight.

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BUT I NOTICED AN UNHELPFUL PATTERN WITHIN MYSELF.



I run at these brick walls. Again. And again. And again. Insanity? No.

It is more like the need to prove that I am worthy, no matter how much that stresses me out. No matter how one-sided things are, I noticed I push myself harder than I should. In some way, I think I have misplaced my intrinsic, static, God-given value. I have tied my value into how hard I work, how hard I push myself.

It’s almost impossible not to when as a culture people are praised and celebrated, rewarded even, for tenacity and grit.

Harder still, when you’re in a wheelchair: when you’re disabled and you strain, when you climb, when you take a few unassisted steps. When you don’t need to bother anyone to help you use the bathroom – when you can wipe your own ass. You know what happens?

YOU GET A FUCKING STANDING OVATION.


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How crazy is that? I had never made this connection before.

My friends, you are worthy not because of your actions. You are worthy because you are alive.



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If you have never known or come to this realization, I genuinely assure you that I am dead serious. I am so sorry that you have never felt loved just as you are; just as you should be.

Most importantly, I want to apologize to myself; to the child within me whose feelings got so hurt that they thought they had to prove themselves worthy of anything. To the little girl in me who was not protected – who only dreamed of unconditional love, who gave everything within her in hopes that others would give back, much to her dismay.


And to you, dear reader, I love you as you are.
Still, it is more important that you fail at everything so that you learn what you need to heal the most. It is okay to love yourself.

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Welcome Home.
You’re Safe here. <
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Surrender And Quitting

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One is invitation,
The other is walking away
There will be times we cannot know 
Which one is which.

Surrender puts Your Battle in The Architects plans.

Faith is the blueprint 
On which youre allowed to
Build the House Of Yourself 
It's acceptable to retrace your footprints 

You've paid your dues;
You've gotta write to your two-sense.

Remind yourself:
Quitting can be accomplished gracefully; 
With a nod of acknowledgement 
To unrealistic demands.

Both require extinguishing the fires 
Of Your Great Expectations 
And Your misplaced pride.

Allowing Your Self to do either
Won't always fit right.

You are not a pair of shoes.
Let yourself sing the blues.
Let the soles of your soul rest awhile.

Perhaps today You are a Quitter 
But today is not the rest of your life. 
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