#instapoets

1544 posts
  • ambivertquki 4w

    //Distinguishing Innocent Manipulators//


    Stop negotiating with my scars. I know it all carried inside the heart, taken place from the heart. Wanted a literal change externally and internally. Things that we are authorized to bring a new way to feel anything with new glee and spark. I couldn't repeat through what I went through such kind of horrible thoughts that once remain inside without sharing. To whom it could be shared manipulated to the down direction. A new courage is required to start a new approach. The strategy to minds to read is the same still, incomprehensive;
    so why is there need to scratch the scars from the start to the death.

    In between illusion, passive, loneliness, and lack of speaking had been existed. We couldn't fight against manipulators who are considered as the innocent but destroyed everything unknowingly. Ugh, we love to laugh over the mistakes a lot, right; especially at the time of need we love to be offended instead knowing the inner conflicts of others with their mind. Because we lived differently rather their living that we gave them easier than us.

    Finding positivity to have scars that needed the resolutions to be vanished for beautiful future and present. But not understanding the panic games inside a mind of a person, the innocent manipulators blames others back to see them flourishing oneself without feeling guilty because they sacrificed for them and we have no right to know what kind of real peace is needed. Doing materialistic approaches make us insane mentally and stuck back to an useless hope to see somebody understand us.

    Nope, no need to linger toward anymore mistakes. Others create stories. They don't get it. They kept many faces. Originality needed to be found oneself now. Being sincere with own soul, and not letting others to translate the silent person. We can go in trap in order to help others but others loves to mock back a lot. No more discussion is needed now. No need to rely on manipulator. A peace would be come definitely by easing the mind without creating scenario against others who couldn't get in mind. They aren't responsible for it.

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    PC to its owner

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  • poemporn 6w

    This one is dedicated to those who lost a very special person in their life and also some of their loved ones in between 2020-21 due to Covid-19. I hope you all are recovering ❤️💕

    "उस पल में काश मुझे पता होता कि हम फिर कभी नहीं मिलने वाले हैं, काश मुझे पता होता" 🙃💕
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    #poetryisnotdead #writersofinstagram #PrinciRaj #motivationalquotes #inspirationalquotes #writerscommunity #poetrycommunity #writingcommunity #poetsofinstagram #wordswithqueens #recoverysayings #creativewriting #writersofindia @poets #poetssociety #poetsofindia #instapoets #micropoetry #lovepoems #lovepoem #wordgasm #wordsmith #poetsofig #igpoems #poemporn #igpoets #poetry #poems #herwordisgold @thegoodquote @r.h.sin @rmdrk @poemsporn_ #ttt #inspirationalquotes ♥️🍂

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    Wish

  • journeyhale 7w

    Reject

    I want to lose weight and get that ass that looks amazing in lavender leggings.
    I want to have that self - assured walk and that straight smile with glowing white teeth. I want to own a room when I walk into it and know that I am desirable.

    I want you to want me. I want to make you think about me all the time, I want you to want me more than anything....

    So I can turn you down.
    So I can reject you.
    So I can make sure that you know you don't deserve me and I'm not in your thrall.

    I haven't been hanging on your words, I've been busy planning your demise.
    ©journeyhale

  • journeyhale 7w

    You

    You are the only person who can make me laugh while I break my own heart open upon the rocky cliff face of my own reflection.

    You are not just a person to me but a safe where I keep my secrets.

    You are the keeper of all I find wrong in myself, listening to me as I come to terms with the ugliest parts of my past and who I am.
    ©journeyhale

  • journeyhale 7w

    More

    I am ok.
    I am back where the water is and where the soft mist engulfs, away from the biting cold and ice that scrapes the skin when you fall.
    Somehow it hurts more than when you are warm and hurt yourself. It is a thud on numb skin which already aches from the cold.

    I am back where I can hear the waves roar and they aren't within me.
    Where I can see them crash but they are on the sand instead of over my head.

    I still have the bad days, but the feelings of drowning are less and I am starting to be able to keep my head above water again.

    Depression is the shattering of the soul, the breaking of the mind. Your identity disappears and someone less takes your place.

    I did not like my lesser self.

    She was bitter and angry. She was empty. She was a husk with a pinched brow who didn't know how to feel joy anymore.
    She couldn't find solace in anything.
    My lesser self strained under the weight of her world in silence. Always needing to do for herself, but resentful because no one could help.

    My lesser self created her own secret hell.

    My lesser self needed help, but it took forever to get the courage to say it out loud, even longer to actually go get it.

    My lesser self had become lesser because her brain lacked what it needed to be whole and functioning.

    It needed to cry for help. It needed to scream with its mouth gaping and fists clenched, "I AM NOT DOING OK."
    "I AM NOT FINE!" Even if the scream was heard as a whisper beneath breath in the midst of unsure tears.

    My lesser self is still in the back of my mind, waiting for me to stop my meds.
    Like a monster in the darkness, with clacking claws and gnashing teeth.

    I will always have to fight that monster, to push it back and tell it that it can't have me today, it will not steal the peace that comes from lifting my face to the misty Coastal rain. It will not steal the deep breaths I take, allowing myself to be still and smell the forever green forest outside my window.

    No, you will not have me today.

    It will not take away the moments of peace I find, even if they are just slivers of the day.
    I will not let it consume me this time.

    Today, I will not be lesser.
    Today, I will be more.
    ©journeyhale

  • journeyhale 7w

    There is no light here.
    Where I am there is no light.

    There is no flare from the sun nor kiss from a star. There is only darkness and the crashing waves of anger washing over me, dragging at my kicking feet in the riptide of panic...
    Back out to sea.
    A sea where hope and joy are so small and swim tightly together, a ball of anchovies circling in a final effort to escape the predators hunting them in my mind and my heart.
    A sea where cold blooded detachment glides with black eyes and despair can smell blood a mile away.

    My heart is tucked away in its stomach with random license plates.
    ©journeyhale

  • journeyhale 7w

    More

    I am ok.
    I am back where the water is and where the soft mist engulfs, away from the biting cold and ice that scrapes the skin when you fall.
    Somehow it hurts more than when you are warm and hurt yourself. It is a thud on numb skin which already aches from the cold.

    I am back where I can hear the waves roar and they aren't within me.
    Where I can see them crash but they are on the sand instead of over my head.

    I still have the bad days, but the feelings of drowning are less and I am starting to be able to keep my head above water again.

    Depression is the shattering of the soul, the breaking of the mind. Your identity disappears and someone less takes your place.

    I did not like my lesser self.

    She was bitter and angry. She was empty. She was a husk with a pinched brow who didn't know how to feel joy anymore.
    She couldn't find solace in anything.
    My lesser self strained under the weight of her world in silence. Always needing to do for herself, but resentful because no one could help.

    My lesser self created her own secret hell.

    My lesser self needed help, but it took forever to get the courage to say it out loud, even longer to actually go get it.

    My lesser self had become lesser because her brain lacked what it needed to be whole and functioning.

    It needed to cry for help. It needed to scream with its mouth gaping and fists clenched, "I AM NOT DOING OK."
    "I AM NOT FINE!" Even if the scream was heard as a whisper beneath breath in the midst of unsure tears.

    My lesser self is still in the back of my mind, waiting for me to stop my meds.
    Like a monster in the darkness, with clacking claws and gnashing teeth.

    I will always have to fight that monster, to push it back and tell it that it can't have me today, it will not steal the peace that comes from lifting my face to the misty Coastal rain. It will not steal the deep breaths I take, allowing myself to be still and smell the forever green forest outside my window.

    No, you will not have me today.

    It will not take away the moments of peace I find, even if they are just slivers of the day.
    I will not let it consume me this time.

    Today, I will not be lesser.
    Today, I will be more.
    ©journeyhale

  • journeyhale 7w

    The Dark.

    I know what the dark is like.
    I know how it feels.. it's grasping hold that keeps you from flying,
    from being able to take a full breath.
    I know what it's like to sit in a room full of people and feel completely alone in the dark that no one else sees.
    ©journeyhale

  • journeyhale 7w

    Interwoven

    You and I are a weaving.
    We wind back and forth, into and out of eachother's lives.
    Clashing and cringeing, wounding with harsh words and misunderstanding.
    Then reaching out again, unable to stay away as if we are magnet and metal, drawn back by a pull we cannot explain or control.
    Every time adding more colors to the warp and weft, strengthening the tapestry where outsiders only see the back that doesn't make sense. All the loops and threads separate in knots, unable to appreciate the picture on the other side. Unable to see the beauty of this craft that has taken up years of our lives.
    At times we have to unravel to come together again, but we have played at this before and practice has made us skilled.
    Sometimes set aside, but always taken back up again by invisible hands we are a cherished craft with memory and meaning.
    I would only be straight lines of thread without you to tie me in knots and weave in between thoughts, making me more of me while creating you as well. With your sardonic wit and fiber spell.
    ©journeyhale

  • journeyhale 7w

    Sure

    My favorite place is the spot between your collarbone and shoulder.
    That hollow of soft skin where I breathe deep. Where I begin my decent. Not the neck, although I love to hide there as well, but this is my special place on you.

    While we lay there and I place my cheek against your skin and the endorphins fill my brain,
    killing pain,
    erasing the disappointment of the day.

    This is my home, my sure thing. The place I can always go.

    We are solid, you and I
    Our foundation concrete, the bones of this house have stood through so many storms and hardships, so much grief and pain that has raged against the walls, chipping a little plaster at times or breaking a window pane, even yanking doors off hinges, but never bringing it down.

    This place, between your shoulder and collarbone is where I come to rebuild. Where we connect and make it stronger than it was before.
    ©journeyhale

  • journeyhale 7w

    Clean

    When you can't sleep so you sit and torture yourself with everyone you've lost.
    You sit with the grief and you feel everything.

    The rage, the pain, the emptiness.

    The pain just hits and hits until you are wrung out like an old washcloth you use to scrub the counters of your soul. First drowning and dripping in it until it twists and draws out everything you push down during the day.

    Everything just laid out in the bucket.
    This stupid bucket of sadness and anger that keeps dipping in this endless well where you can't reach the top and there's no bottom.
    Treading water until you can climb out.

    So many gone while the rest of us are left to clean up the mess.
    ©journeyhale

  • journeyhale 7w

    Impossible

    We are impossible, you and I.
    We explode and attract like matter reconfiguring itself, every time different but the same.
    We build walls and reinforce them with platitudes and jokes that touch the surface of things we'll never say because we are both too afraid.

    You, of change.
    Me, of rejection.

    Our boundaries are so damned solid that if we broke them we wouldn't know who we are anymore.
    This may be the castle that we will die trying to conquer, where the undercurrent in the moat drags at us constantly.

    I can't even say I want you. I can't say that I want to share your space and feel your hands on me.
    To breathe you in, panting and gasping.
    To drown in you because this chemistry is intoxicating and addictive.

    Some days I don't care about the consequences.
    God, it's like an explosion waiting to happen that is a bomb ticking into infinity.

    I fucking think about you and I hate it because you dominate my thoughts with your voice and your words.

    You're my downfall and the one thing I will never have.
    ©journeyhale

  • journeyhale 7w

    Love

    Sometimes I wonder what would have changed if I could go back and tell myself that I deserved so much better. That I could demand so much more. If I had the audacity to love myself.
    ©journeyhale

  • journeyhale 7w

    Unloved . Unwanted. Unbound. Unworthy.

    These were the names I called myself like a grade school bully
    pointed fingers and looks in the mirror as I criticize every line and every pore that's never been good enough.

    I hate that reflection because in it is every failure that I have ever felt, every stupid word, every foolish choice where I ended up falling on my face in the mud.

    Flowers which I have collected in my shame bouquet which sits on my dining room table.

    Happy valentines day lover, here is the restaurant where you will eat hopeless rejection for dinner.
    ©journeyhale

  • chanchan93 9w

    Caged

    In the places that you choked me,
    He weaves pearls to decorate my neck.
    In the palaces that you kept me locked,
    He opens windows to let me fly.


    ©chanchan

  • sidhubalkaran 9w

    Day 15/26 of #napowrimo2021
    Ottava Rima is a poetry form of Italian origin. This form came into being around the late 13th and early 14thcentury and was developed by Tuscan poets. It started out as a form for epic and narrative verse but overtime has been adapted for wide array of subjects.

    An Ottava Rima stanza has 8 lines with an abababcc rhyme scheme and is written in Iambic pentameter (10 syllables). Some sources on this form define it as a poem with 8 lines of 11 syllables each. It can work as a stand-alone poem or with multiple stanzas.
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    #mirakee #writersnetwork #writing @writersnetwork @mirakee #pod #poemoftheday #postoftheday #mirakeewrites #napowrimo #napowrimo2021 #ottavarima #sidhulogy #instapoets

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    O for Ottava Rima

    It came to me seeking myself anew
    Dear old ego writhing in agony
    Probing me for some sacred darkness too
    Waking up the man living inside me
    She walks with me, a purpose to pursue
    Carrying a list of those who wronged me
    A thread, a nail, and few judgments to cast
    and burn down the home that houses the past.

  • sidhubalkaran 10w

    Mondo is another short form of poetry that comes from Japan. The idea is to pose a question in the first stanza and then try to answer it in the second. A single stanza of a Mondo has 5-7-7 syllabic structure knows as a Katuata (side poem or a half poem). The Mondo is pretty similar to a Sedoka but varies in terms of the subject matter, which is nature for mondos. This form was used as a religious training method by monks in the past, written in the spirit of Zen and encapsulating an observation of natural surroundings. It was sometimes written by two different poets.
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    #mirakee #writersnetwork #napowrimo2021 #napowrimo #mirakeewrites #writerscommunity #instapoets #mondo #haiku #japan #poem #pod #poemoftheday

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    M for Mondo

    The Sun in glory
    and a shallow creek, how it
    begins before it begins?

    Nature finds a way
    Grain by grain, the hills falter
    A valley soaked in beauty.

  • ms_shayara 10w

    Sab jaan kr bhi anjaane bne rehna hai
    Tere ehsaason ke galle lg kr jo rehna hai.
    -Nancy Uppal
    ©ms_shayara













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  • aveehang 12w

    Greed

    Man's need gave him fire, food and shelter.
    Everything else was his greed,
    His desire for more,
    His willingness to walk that extra mile.
    ©aveehang

  • freakythoughts 13w

    Mohabbat

    Mohabbat mai kuch iss qadar unki dil fareb baten..
    Are hmari toh unke bina na din thi na raten thi..
    ©freakythoughts