Activity
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kristinschaaf submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoMisunderstood Mourning
Kristin SchaafYou tell me that you see me
And you tell me that you know
You show up with trite words
You hope will somehow show
You have the best intentions
With peace offerings that fall flat
In covered casseroles and
Withering plants I just can’t
Seem to keep alive either.There’s no more suffering now
You say to me—and he’s in
A better place without pain
But what you don’t see—is within
I need you to see my pain
Deep into my eyes where it
Holds everything you cannot.I’m tired of the stupid shit
With all your false platitudes
Please go read the beatitudes
Blessed are the meek they say
Blessed are those who mourn
For they shall be comforted
So please when you’re ready
To mourn alongside me
I’m not ready to pretend
That anything else you say
Is what I need to hear.Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Kristin, everyone mourns differently, so it is exhausting when others have expectations about how you should process your grief. It is also exhausting to pretend to be comforted by well-intentioned casseroles, plants, and visits when all you want is to wallow. I hope that you are able to find someone to mourn alongside you and expect nothing more…read more
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themadniffler33 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoOne Day
LaurelRaeOne day
One day, I may have the right words to make sense of all that I am. All that I had to became because of what you did to me. All of who I am now, but not in spite. No, despite you, and all those words you said to me, all those belts and wooden spoons no child deserves. Because of your sins, I had to pay your debts. For the anxiety, depression, and BPD. For every time I needed you there, and you were nowhere to be found. I now want you to stay that way.
All those days I sat alone in my head with your words on repeat. All those times I tried to run and hide. What about that time that I took enough to turn yellow, and I just went to sleep hoping it would be mellow in the end? That night that the silver gauge had my name on it… but who would be there to protect my sisters? So I laid it down that night. This story isn’t long enough to tell you about all the times I wanted to just feel normal and safe. To feel loved, wanted, and worthy of the bare minimum. That part I’m still searching for. I think it’s one of the last things to come. But what you didn’t realize when you created a monster with the madness is that when that monster gains control of their mind and bodies, then magic happens. My body has grown strong, but my mind has become more gentle. I am all those things that I needed. I am patient, I am kind, I am loving, I am genuine. Was I always those things? No, and I hurt way too many good people. While I am responsible for my actions, ultimately I know that. When you suffer like you made me, the reality isn’t the same. So the decisions are based in an altered perception. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but I know that I will not have an ego like you. Also, unlike you, I will face my demons. I will battle them every single day so that my kids know how to fight, who and what to as well.
But what I have now learned is that voice in my head that so resembles yours. Is, in fact, not mine to keep, but it’s back to yours now. I have that ability. To avenge every moment you stole, I took back that power and will fight to always make my future better.
Every once in a while I am reminded of what I never had. I see the smiles on the daughter’s faces knowing they are safe. Some days I wish for that. Some days I wish I could run and you would save me. But you aren’t the one to save me. No, what you did was the opposite. I didn’t start out as the black sheep of the family, did I? No, before I had a voice, I was the sacrificial lamb. And when I got my voice and my black hair, that’s when you left. Interesting how the timing plays out, isn’t it…
Oh, how quickly I learned to hide the things that would make you rage. I learn to quiet myself as best I could. But when your brain is alphabet soup, that’s hard to do. To shrink, to hide, but in a body and mind that could not, would not fit into societi’s mold. No, so what we did to survive is what so many have done before. We created smiles in the surrounding ones. Because if we were left alone in the silence of our minds, there isn’t any peace left. So we laugh, we joke, we entertain. We act like nothing can hurt us, so the words keep coming. And every day that no one sees the pain just proves to us we aren’t worthy of the notice. So we hide it better. The walls keep building. And like all walls, mine ultimately did its job, I’m here…And if you are still here too, I promise you there is hope. I never thought I could feel the way I do now.
So one day, maybe one day I may find out who I am, but I can promise you that when that day comes, you will not find me. Don’t ever come looking. I know what I am about to do is going to get back to you one day. And when that day comes, I hope you know not to call. I never want to hear your voice in my head again.
In the end, the one thing that I am certain of is that my children will never know your voice in their heads. My daughter will never feel like hugging a stranger has meant more than a hug from you. She will never know how scary the world is when you have no family to count on. My sons will not base their worth on their athletic abilities. The will not be bullied by family will I ideally watch and participate. No, I will meet their life struggles in the way I deserved to be supported through mine. And there is a beauty in that, just because you didn’t teach me how to be a healthy parent, partner, or person. You did, however show me all of which I don’t want to be as a human being. So if you read this one day and you disagree, then I am happy. I will never sacrifice my happiness or that of my children’s ever again.
I survived, now it’s time to thrive.
Signed,
An Unloved Daughter
Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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lc_mcqillen submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoDeep & Wide
L.C. McQuillenMy father always told me
I lived life a mile wide
And an inch deep
I was never certain if I agreed
Because although I have traveled
Far and continuously
I believe somewhere inside of me
Unhinged
And I can’t decide if
Seeing too much
Is a privilege or a hindrance
But I do know how deeply
I feel about a wide range of placesIt’s hard to look at a parent
And see a stranger
So maybe I take their words
With too much weight
Questioning my own character
So maybe I can relate
But they are the ones who have
Always stood still
And I am the one who seeks change
A mile wide, a mile deepIt’s hard not to be seen
Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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L.C., I feel like living a mile wide and an inch deep is a way for people who are stuck to describe others who refuse to be contained. You should never feel bad for wanting to experience many facets of life, and just because you don’t stay somewhere for a long time doesn’t mean you didn’t experience it deeply. Keep seeking change. Thank you for sharing!
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moongoblin submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoThis post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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alexcia23 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoAnxiety Is A Struggle
Alexcia CegelskiAnxiety is an endless invisible string you carry on your shoulders
Anxiety is often misunderstood and not a simple to-be-fixed mistake
Anxiety is a daily struggle that never stops
Anxiety takes over the mind with overthinking, worries, and constant self-shame
Anxiety can’t a hundred percent be fixed with medication
Anxiety can make you look calm, but you feel like you’re dying inside
Anxiety can cause mental and physical struggles unknowingly
Anxiety can easily cause panic attacks like your lungs collapsing
Anxiety makes you worry over the simple little things frequently
Anxiety can make you practice conversations in your head before you speak
Anxiety makes it uneasy to relax and destress and takes guidance
Anxiety involves every stress of life that makes it worse
Anxiety isn’t just “you’re overreacting” or “just relax.”
Anxiety can cause misunderstandings and misinterpretations
Anxiety can lead to some having a lack of empathy when it’s unbearable to grasp
Anxiety can make you isolate from social situations and want to be alone
Anxiety isn’t for the weak but shows how strong you really are
Anxiety is a big deal of a disorder and is treatable but still tough
Anxiety is a horrible mental struggle that not many understand
Anxiety takes depth to truly comprehend and help those when needed
People who don’t understand anxiety need to understand two things
It is a struggle and know what to do to help and deal with someone who doesVoting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Alexcia, I think that anxiety causes a lot of people to feel misunderstood. When you feel like you aren’t in control of your mind, it is difficult to help others understand you. I agree that by teaching others that anxiety is a real struggle and providing ways to help those experiencing it, we can make a true difference. Thank you for sharing your…read more
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j0y submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agothe silences between
JYJust yesterday, I watched a girl laugh at a joke she didn’t find funny.
Not a real laugh—just a quick, practiced sound,
a reflex built from years of knowing when to play along.
Her friends didn’t notice.
They grinned, clinked their glasses, kept talking.
But for half a second, her face fell,
and I saw it—
the quiet between the noise,
the moment where she was just herself.And I just stood there.
I didn’t ask if she was okay.
Didn’t tell her I knew what it was like
to sit in a room full of people and still feel alone.
Didn’t tell her that sometimes, pretending to belong
is lonelier than never belonging at all.But here’s what she didn’t see:
I recognized that laugh because I’ve used it, too.
I’ve filled silences with words that weren’t mine,
nodded at conversations that never really reached me.
And I’ve left rooms where no one noticed I was gone,
wondering if I was ever really there in the first place.This is how it always is.
People think loneliness is being alone,
but I promise you, it’s lonelier to be misunderstood.
It’s laughing on cue,
filling a space where you don’t quite fit,
and realizing—when the night ends—that no one saw you at all.I feel everything at 110%,
but I only know how to show it at 10%.
And silence has never been good at explaining itself.Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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JY, so much of what you wrote here resonates with me! I feel like those of us who experience the feeling of not belonging even when we are with a group of people understand the weight of those insincere laughs and unnoticed exits. Honestly, I think we enjoy our own company more anyway! Thank you for sharing your experience!
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qwertylpm submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoColor Matching
Maya Pena-LobelSomehow I’ve spent a whole week
Trying to figure out who I am. And
I’ve been living with myself for over twenty years, and
I’ve seen everyday my nose, feet, hands, and
I’ve heard my thoughts louder than anyone can, and
And yet I can’t seem to figure out who I am.
But identity crisis? No. That was so two years ago.
I’m just a bit incohesive.I make myself inexcusably late (but excused by my chronic lateness),
Stuck deliberating between
My Pantone two eighty jeans or the two eight two blue
That might match a little better
With my one dollar belt, my eight year old coat, and my handmedown tee
So that people don’t see me
As a frumpy kid who’d be better off
If still dressed by her mom.
I don’t think it’s wrong to put in the effort without putting in the cash,
And besides, it’s not like I don’t have money to spend;
I just choose to treat myself
In moments shared by family and friends.And before I leave, I glance in that silver coated glass.
Walk away. Return. Another quick glance.
A stranger looks at me
Through brown eyes, brown hair, brown
Skin, but really it’s more of a Pantone one sixty three.
I almost forgot I can’t be brown when there’s colorful people around.
I am so full of muted colors and triumphs
from the past
That I am lost searching for me in the present.
And though my Jewish heritage runs coarse through my blood,
Thick blood like that of the Paschal lamb that is now our mezuzah,
I don’t believe in that stuff.
And though my body is defined by being female,
I either hate it or don’t recognize it.
And though my Mexican heritage flows rich on my skin,
It only shines in the sun in the summer.
The equatorial sun has kissed my blood
But European skies suck out all the fun.
Now my darkest shades come from
The spots on my face, my neck and back dotted,
But I’m the one who put them there.
Just like I’m the one responsible for the bits
That don’t rest nicely on my stomach or my hips.I’ve peeled back that fleshy pink layer
To examine my mind. I am
A floating consciousness: black and white, cartoon-drawn,
Just a brain and a spinal cord encased in an
Invisible vessel. To the world I am not colorless,
But I wish it were blind to me.
Here, I have no shape or form; I’m either all in power
Or all entropic. But to be who I am, I have full control
Over behavior, traits, the things that make me a whole
Person. What to think. How to speak. Who to be.
My senses are intrinsic to me.
For all I know, you and I could have a different green
Where you, dear reader, see Pantone three six two
But I a three fourteen.I create and build, crunch numbers ‘cause I can.
I’m proud to present as a woman in STEM.
Ideas bounce around my head, but no structure to my thought,
So how can I build bridges
When I can’t even build a sentence of prose?
Who knows? Maybe by the end of this
I’ll find there’s nothing I can do.
I’ve the EM spectrum in me, but you only see visible light.
My rainbow may be quenched, but
There’s more to seeing than sight.
I’ve spent the week trying to figure me out;
I just had to close my eyes.Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Maya, this is an absolutely beautiful and powerful poem. I love where you wrote “I’m just a bit incohesive” to describe the reason you’ve been trying to “find” yourself. The way you use the varying shades of color, some so similar others might not even notice a difference, to describe the varying facets of existence is insightful and thought-pro…read more
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bnahlmarkgmail-com submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoThis post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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journeyfox submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoFlowers for you my Love
Journey I.K FoxHave you seen a garden of Lilies and Forget-me-not’s?
Deepest melancholic blue,
And a pure white,They grow only in the best soil, and that’s my chest.
Their roots tangle into my lungs and nourish them with tears.You could never understand this strange creature I call a heart.
Ripping Flowers from my skin to make you a bouquet.
My blood drips for you, my ghost.
Something that wasn’t truly living could never die.Like the warmth from an “I love you”
It lingers every day, to once a week, once a month,
Soon enough to become an ache in your chest.I can wish on Stars, but I know the cost of the dead.
But hope is the last to die, so I grow a garden in my chest.
Each flower is a gravestone for every hope, dream, and what-ifBut my Ghost, and my love, it grows back every time
Even if you won’t take my flowers,
I love them just as much as I love you.Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Journey, this poem is a powerful testament to the depth of the love you feel. Your detailed description of various flowers reflects your attention to detail in showing the true nature of your love. Even though it seems like your love may be unrequited, you are steadfast in your dedication. Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem!
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michae1 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoDocumented
Michael L George jrAs an addict, I know
How it feels to be misunderstood.
Most feel judgement,
Feel inadequate,
Once you make the decision
To get clean, in my opinion. Feels
Like nobody cares, lost in despair.
As the ones who have never
Been there, throw shade.
Not understanding the difficulties
In place. Probably why I feel
More comfortable, around
Other’s who have been through
The pain, it’s not easy to
To express if you don’t relate.
From the outside Looking in,
It seems crazy, just like anything.
At first it’s misunderstood,
Sometimes, you need the experience!
Not just the scriptures out of a book.
I know when I tell my story
It will resonate with somebody.
Understand me when I say,
“Not everyone is gonna feel your pain”.
But like most we’re all
Misunderstood, we can
Only imagine what another
Has been through.
If you see someone
In a Mercedes or dresses fancy.
You might think, ohh, they got it good.
But that’s just the surface.
You don’t know how they got it
Or what it took.Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Michael, though I am not an addict, I can imagine the feelings of judgment from others and from yourself can be nearly debilitating. You are right that when we see successful people, we have no idea how hard they worked to get to that point. They may have once been an addict, too. Thank you for sharing your experience! I wish you the best.
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Thank you, appreciate the feedback thus could apply to
Other addictions it comes in many Forms
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attyoaks submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoMask Off
Misty ReignMaybe they don’t feel me
Maybe they don’t understand
Maybe they’re buying into
Everything they think I am
Maybe my reputation precedes me
Maybe they Googled my name
Maybe they’re bringing up old shit
And the internet is to blameI hope they see me as
Confident not arrogant
Relevant & pertinent
Affluent & Heaven-Sent
Walking in my purpose
And saying what I meant
Flyer than a paper plane
Marvelously working brain
Shining like a supernova
Without one trace of rain
And when I stand up & speak
All their knees get weak
Cause my personality & delivery
Be all the way on fleekBut deep inside
Despite my shine
I feel lonely, conflicted in my mind
Scared to show my true self
Cause they wouldn’t understand
All the levels and dimensions
Of everything I am
All my insecurities
The powerful shadow side of me
The good bad and ugly
What an awful sight to see
I feel that they won’t get me
So I have to protect me
And be everything I should be
Until I’m brave enough to just be
So I show them my light side
Turn my wattage up real bright
Just maybe I can blind them
Into believing I’m alright(c) 2025 Misty Oaks Paxton (“Misty Reign”)
Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Misty, this poem captures the conflicting emotions surrounding putting yourself out there. When we put ourselves in a position in which we may be judged, we start to doubt ourselves and question our decisions. Despite this conflict, I can tell that you have confidence and drive that will see you through any uncertainty. Thank you for sharing your…read more
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ashleyshanaj submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoEveryone is watching me.
Ashley JonesIt’s exhausting. Over-explaining, then under-explaining because now I’m scared to open my mouth and talk about it. Always an argument, always a debate, always a back and forth. I’m tired of it. So many times I have to correct myself to stroke people’s egos that I am now trapped in my own mind. I belittle myself to make others feel big. I have to explain over and over what I mean when I’m simply speaking to someone without the ability to comprehend. I diminish my thoughts because others are insecure. I hate being fake; I’d rather be real even if it hurts. See, no one ever holds their tongue with me, but I have to abide. So misunderstood, I feel like one of those princesses that’s great, but people have me locked inside. I’ve created my own anxiety and insecurity because I can’t be me. Overthinking every response because I don’t want any backlash. I’m tired. I’m tired of being caged while others roam free. Their trauma runs so deep they can only hear from their level of “free.” I’m paralyzed when others don’t do their healing work. I’m constantly in circles because others are hurt. When I’m alone, I know my worth. Being around those who don’t understand me cages me mentally. I just want to be free to be me without the misunderstandings.
Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Ashley, I think that the fact that you realize your worth when you are alone simply means that you are good enough company all on your own! You don’t need people to fill in the gaps for you when your mind has all it needs anyway. I hate that you feel the need to diminish yourself so that others are not uncomfortable, and I hope that one day you…read more
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blossomdivine submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoThis post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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ichaotiqa submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoHow I’m Not Like All The Other Boys
Lukas QuinnOh, let me count the ways:
I cannot shoot a basketball,
I cannot sketch your face,
I don’t kiss pretty girls,
I don’t play petty games,
I won’t ever win a game of Smash Bros,
And I won’t ever drop my masks.
I think I laugh too much,
And I think I smile too large,
I have a coat of dusky scars, from acne not from war,
I have stretch marks, bone spurs, heat rash and
I guess this is rosacea, the bloodrush from my mother’s side,
(And I guess my face is prone to catching fire)
I have never been inside a school bus,
And I have never had a secret, at least not
A secret more than this:I struggle with
speaking
like I’m
reading
two / of / lines / poetry
of / two / poetry / lines
simultaneous./Special/ is the word you’d use
For someone you just can’t quite understand.
But that’s not what I am:
I can’t shoot a basketball and
I think I laugh too much.
Is that so hard to understand?Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Lukas, I love everything about this poem! The way you described your trouble with speaking as being similar to trying to read two lines of poetry at the same time helped me understand a little more about what you experience. You may not be like everyone else, but you are you, and that is enough! Thank you for sharing your experience!
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cherrie submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months agoLITTLE MISS
Martha C MooreLittle Miss
Little Miss
Understood
Little miss
Never good
Little Miss
Selfish
Little Miss
Hellish
Little Miss
Feeling down
Little Miss
Broken crown
Little Miss
Always mean
Little Miss
Never seen
Little Miss
Sit quiet
Little Miss
Silence your riot
Little Miss
Hate the world
Little Miss
Take you for a whirl
Little Miss
Drama queen
Little Miss
Overtly keen
Little Miss
Sunshine
Little Miss
Undermined
Little Miss
Raging storm
Little Miss
Not the norm
Little Miss
Outcast
Little Miss
Backlash
Little Miss
Hopeless
Little Miss
No sense
Little Miss
Do as you should
Little Miss
UnderstoodVoting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Cherrie, I feel this piece! We are dynamic and ever-changing in our journey towards happiness. With so many facets of our personalities and goals, it is no wonder that we are often a little misunderstood. This poem inspires me to embrace all the parts of myself! Thank you for sharing!
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Thanks so much for reading it!!!
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freethafupa submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months, 1 weeks agoThis post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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hangon submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months, 1 weeks agoMy Disability Doesn't Define Me, So Neither Should You
Hannah GonnevilleI have learning disabilities, it’s not one that can be spotted by looking closely at the features of my face. And because it remains hidden I fear that sometimes I am misunderstood because of it.
When I share that I have a learning disability I fear that people see me through a different lens than they previously did.
I’ve had family members who have known about my learning disabilities tell me they didn’t know I was smart enough to make it on the honor roll even though I made honors every single semester of high school.
When I tell people I have a learning disability it’s as if they expect me to then cause a disturbance and act out. But I sit there quietly absorbing everything.
When I tell people that I have learning disabilities they immediately start putting limits as to my abilities and what I can and can’t achieve. So it’s easier to say nothing and silently prove them wrong.
When I tell people that I have learning disabilities people tend to assume that my IEP and accommodations exempted me from hard work. I HATE when people assume that. I worked twice as hard as to learn the topics. And even though my accommodations lessened the amount of math problems I had to solve I would sometimes end up doing more than what I was assigned so that I could make sure I mastered the concept.
When I struggle with learning or doing a task because of my learning disabilities people get frustrated with me and tell me that this should be easy. But in actuality my brain works differently and I may need to see it done a couple of times or have it explained in a different way in order to understand.
When I tell people I have learning disabilities they tend to cheapen my achievements as if I weaseled my way through a Master’s program and was handed a degree instead of earning it myself. In reality though I worked countless hours to make my way through grad school and to end up where I am today.
I had a boss who upon finding out about my learning disabilities made some distasteful and unprofessional comments about them as if I were bad and defective and not fit to serve in ministry. Oh the irony that this was after we had done a whole Inclusion Initiative geared towards people with disabilities. She barred me from helping with it.
When I tell people that I have learning disabilities they often tend to question or doubt my capacity for leadership. But I can still lead and I lead with a greater empathy and understanding because I know what it’s like to struggle.
I wish when I tell people I have learning disabilities they would see me for who I truly am…..
An intelligent
Inquisitive
Attentive
Hardworking
Tenacious
Creative
Problem solving
Professional
Empathetic
LeaderWho demands and deserves respect
And who can do whatever she puts her mind to.Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Hannah, this letter is so inspiring to me. As a teacher, I know that there are countless students with disabilities who are bright, ambitious, and completely capable of the same work as their non-disabled peers. Accommodations are simply a way to even the playing field. I am so glad that you see your worth, and I know that you will continue to…read more
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dreday7878 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months, 1 weeks agoInvisible
Andrea McgonagleYou don’t get me
You never will
I’m sitting here screaming
And you still
Don’t hear me
Don’t listen
Don’t care
Don’t see
There is chaos
Inside of me
A mind that is not my own
Consumed by thoughts
That I don’t own
Things I say
I really don’t mean
Never heard
Often seen
The highest of highs
The lowest of lows
I don’t understand it
But that’s how it goes
I’m tired of the meds
Tired of pills
The pain isn’t numb
It actually kills
My spirt
My soul
My will to survive
Yet I go on
Trying to thrive
Navigating roads
Yet unable to drive
I’m tired
I’m drained
Not mentally there
To young to give up
To old to care
What you think
How you feel
You haven’t a clue
How it feels
What it’s like
When you are the glue
Holding together
A paper so thin
Knowing I’ll lose
But hoping I’ll win
So please be kind
When I am around
I’m totaly lost
Looking for found
Mental illness
It’s not for the weak
Wanting to hide
But forced to seek
Love
Acceptance
You think that you know
You haven’t a clue where my mind can go
And I don’t know either
It’s truly a trip
When you hold on so tightly
But never had a gripVoting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Andrea, this poem is beautiful and powerful. So many of us struggle with feeling like we aren’t truly seen or heard, and your words capture the complex nature of that. The succinct lines evoke an image of someone torn between conflicting emotions, and I can definitely relate. Thank you for sharing your experience!
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That was so nice of you to say!! I feel so many people go untreated or unnoticed in this world, and usually they are the best people too.
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lesterhaus submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months, 1 weeks agoOn Confidence
Ryan LesterI miss being confident.
Having a secure attachment style.
I miss not being on antidepressants
or anti-anxiety pills
or testosterone.
Being content with life.
I miss my in-laws—
More like family than my actual family.I miss a life that doesn’t turn itself inside-out every other week.
One week, I’m Dad of the Year.
My kismet, supposedly, according to astrology.
Demystifying geometric terminology,
explaining the difference between punching up and punching down,
helping girl scouts glue
and get
Their shit together.The next, I’m wearing eye-liner
Mascara
Deep inhale of poppers;
searching for an escape.
Like an episode of Euphoria — surrounded by
Creatures of the night.
The duality of man isn’t poetic.
It’s fucking comedic.
But like, the Shakespearean version of comedy…
Tragic.
Heartbreaking.
Wretched.
But wretched enough to laugh hysterically at.
People win Oscars for playing these types of roles, after all.
Can I at least get some residuals out of this?
No? Fine.I’m not a fucking poet, anyway.
But this poetry class sure makes me want to be one.
I googled how to write poetry—
Find different words.
Avoid is/was/are, when possible.
Be vulnerable.
Experiment
With
Line Breaks.
Whatever.So I put on my eyeliner and mascara
And put the lip gloss in my pocket for later
As I plan my temporary
slipfast
drift
Windows down, racing,
Crisp night sky enters
Montrose lures.
Madonna or Gaga drown out the voice
Telling me to stay home.
Gin and tonics mute my poor, wrinkled brain
Filling in the cracks, to make it smooth.
Smooth brains don’t think.
It’s an insult, and a metaphor
so it works.
Choking it
when it screams at me to stop numbing it.And I wear the makeup
Instead of the makeup wearing me.
Because you need confidence to pull off wearing makeup.Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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“People win Oscars for playing these types of roles. Can I at least get some residuals out of this? No? Fine.” A brilliant and relatable poem. Thanks for sharing this.
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Ryan, this poem is powerful and moving. I love how you end with “And I wear the makeup/ Instead of the makeup wearing me./ Because you need confidence to pull off wearing makeup.” When we are confident and proud, the makeup enhances our beauty instead of taking away from it. Thank you for sharing your experience!
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houston8923 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months, 1 weeks agoMy Own
Alexandra HoustonMy own is strong and fearless
It has scars but is fearless.
It has been silenced and shooed.
But now stands tall and renewed.My own is purposeful and unique.
It tells a story that has made its peak.
It shines light into those who are weak and provides words for those who cannot speak.My own is beautiful and bold.
It has depth and is precious as gold.
It seeks value and truth.
The love of my own can never be renewed.My own is my voice. It’s my weapon of choice.
Sometimes misunderstood but protected from all the noise.
It’s powerful and worthy, standing out no matter the journey.Always pondering on where marks were made.
Never wanting to feel betrayed.
My own fills dark rooms with light
Something that will be worth the fight.Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Alexandra, this poem is a beautiful depiction of the strength of your voice. You are powerful and brave enough to stand up and use your words to speak truth and fight for it! I love how you describe your voice as your “weapon of choice” because our voices really do hold that power. Thank you for sharing your experience!
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