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  • Oswald Perez shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 3 days, 2 hours ago

    Cerebral Palsy Awareness Day

    Dear Unsealers,

    The 25th of March is Cerebral Palsy Awareness Day. And the month of March is Cerebral Palsy Awareness Month in the United States.

    It hasn’t been easy to say that I have cerebral palsy. As it was so present in the years that I grew up, it almost became the whole story of who I was. But I’ve come around and accepted the fact that CP is a part of my life. Yet, it’s only one part of the larger story that’s still being written to this very day.

    I’m more than the challenges present, and the same goes for everyone in the community in their own ways.

    I’ve written something in honor of the day:

    National Cerebral Palsy Awareness Day

    On the 25th of March
    An underserved community’s turn in the spotlight

    I’ve had my fair share of challenges
    From my eyes, my speech to my feet
    But I’ve risen above all of it
    To be me, a writer and traveler

    CP used to be the entire story
    Defined by all the limitations
    Now it’s just part of the plot
    Of a larger story that’s still being told

    On this day and every day
    A reminder to everyone…

    People with Cerebral Palsy
    Live lives of joy and wonder
    Unbowed by the impossible

    Even if things take more time to do
    After all, we bring our full selves to the forefron

    Oswald Perez

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    • CP used to be the entire story
      Defined by all the limitations
      Now it’s just part of the plot
      Of a larger story that’s still being told

      Oswald this is a beautiful line and piece. CP does not define your whole identity! There is so much more to you! you are wonderful. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of our family. <3 Lau…read more

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  • My Love

    I love you
    in the future, present, and past
    You were my first love
    and you will be my last
    I love you deeply and truly
    Like no one else will
    If you were someone else
    I’d love you still
    I love how beautiful you are
    I love how sweet you smell
    I love your soft touch
    And the stories you tell
    I love everything you do
    And I love what I see
    I love that you’re you
    I love that you’re me

    Shaylaray B

    Voting starts April 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • jayybb shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 4 days, 18 hours ago

    This post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.

    Healing

    This letter is only available to The Unsealed subscribers. Subscribe or login to get access!

  • Kevin Lowe shared a letter in the Group logo of Chasing Your DreamsChasing Your Dreams group 6 days, 15 hours ago

    Entrepreneurship: It's like Surfing!

    Have you ever tried surfing before? Or let’s just be honest, attempted to surf before?

    Whether or not you’ve actually squeezed into a skin-tight wetsuit and waxed up your surfboard, if you’re an entrepreneur, then you’re surfing every day!

    The dream of catching that perfect wave is what drives us to do better, work harder, and get up earlier. We’d rather fight for every inch than be given a mile.

    I embarked on the journey of entrepreneurship 10 years after becoming completely blind. At 17 years old, I unexpectedly lost my eyesight. By 27, I didn’t feel much like being put in a mold of what a “blind person” should do. No, I said screw that… I’m launching my very own travel agency!

    Better Days Travel was my pride and joy, my perfect wave for 7 years! Now, that perfect wave took work, a ridiculous amount of work indeed, but I loved every minute of it! Well, sort of.

    Like a surfer just beginning to paddle out into the waves, my journey as a travel agent was one wave after another, constantly crashing, pushing me back towards shore. Just as soon as I’d come up for air out of the thick whitewater caused by the crashing wave, another one would hit.

    Yeah, eventually I’d make it out to the break, catch a sweet wave, but soon that wave would crash, and I’d be right back fighting to catch another.

    But I realized something vitally important about choosing to be an entrepreneur…

    You don’t choose this path because you’re looking for a shortcut. You didn’t choose this path because you had no other option. Hell no! You chose this because this is part of living! It’s not about a paycheck on Friday; it’s about a company built, a brand established, a customer made happy, and the satisfaction at the end of the day that you get to wake up and do it all over again tomorrow!

    I may no longer be a travel agent, but I sure still am an entrepreneur, surfing every single day!

    Kevin

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  • Rebecca Engle shared a letter in the Group logo of Mental HealthMental Health group 1 week ago

    Phases

    Birds still chirp their fucking hearts out on crap days,
    Like a karaoke star who’s totally lost his way.
    And flowers? They’re gatecrashing funerals with sass,
    Whispering, “Was it our fucking fragrance, perhaps?”

    People scatter when shit really starts to hit the fan,
    Quicker than I say “fuck it” to my diet plan.
    But the ride-or-dies? They stick like fucking glue,
    Like that piece of gum on your shoe, never bidding adieu.

    The moon’s up there, changing her damn mind,
    Like me in front of the fridge, a late-night find.
    So hey, give yourself a break, don’t stress the fucking phase,
    We’re all just bumbling through life’s mad, crazy maze.

    In the cracks and crevices, we find our fucking groove,
    Dodging life’s big-ass feet, we move and we improve.
    Escaping the drizzle, dodging the damn pee,
    We’re the fucking misfits, making it, wild and free.

    So when life feels as tough as a week-old fucking baguette,
    Remember, we’re rocking this shit, no need to fret.
    In this grand ol’ mess, we might seem fucking small,
    But we’re damn well blooming, giving it our fucking all.

    Rebecca Engle

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    • Rebecca , your letter is filled with raw and honest emotion. Life may be chaotic, but remember, you’re resilient. Embrace your uniqueness and keep pushing forward. You’re blooming and giving it your all, no matter how tough things get.

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  • Rebecca Engle shared a letter in the Group logo of Chasing Your DreamsChasing Your Dreams group 1 week ago

    Handouts

    In a town where promises are plenty and the government hands out aid,
    A question echoes softly, under the shade.
    “Why try hard, why aim high, when help is just a call away?
    Why bother with the struggle, if you’re okay day by day?”

    The government says, “We’ll help you, keep you safe and fed,
    You won’t need to worry, we’ve got your back,” they said.
    But this kindness has a shadow, a kind of hidden chain,
    It keeps you in your place, with not much to gain.

    “Why go for the mountain,” some wonder, “when the valley’s just fine?
    Why face the storm, when you can just recline?”
    Because in that easy comfort, there’s a trap so sly,
    It tells you, “Don’t bother,” and time just passes by.

    But some folks aren’t buying, they want to chase their own dream,
    Not just live on handouts, or so it would seem.
    They talk about doing things, making their own way,
    Not just taking what’s given, but having their say.

    They gather in the streets, their voices loud and brave,
    “We want to earn our keep, not just quietly behave.”
    For freedom and the chance to chase what they deem sweet,
    To work hard for their wins, and not just take a seat.

    So why aim for something bigger, why try to break free?
    It’s about making your own path, as far as I can see.
    Not just going with the flow, but steering your own boat,
    And in that hard-earned journey, you’ll have your own note.

    So let’s not be fooled by an easy ride, bought and sold,
    But aim for the horizon, with courage bold.
    The road might be rougher, and the climb can be steep,
    But in that effort, you’ll find a joy so deep.

    Rebecca Engle

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  • Moxx shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 1 week, 1 day ago

    The Traveler

    Where have you been?
    My time traveling friend
    You’re here in the present again

    You were stuck in the past
    Confused and aghast
    Back then and forever in when

    You are never here
    Through these months and years
    When is it that you go?

    Sometimes it’s a loss
    But my hope I won’t toss
    From spring blooms to the fallen snow

    But if truth should be told
    And if the story unfolds
    Did you change everything that you could?

    For now it is now
    And I don’t know how
    You’d claim it to be as you would

    Because the trouble with time
    It only can wind
    To a future that is not yet

    However, with you
    To the future you flew
    Because time for you isn’t set

    So lonely you go
    A sad, sorry soul
    And no one can understand you

    We will meet again
    My time traveling friend
    In a world that to me seems so new

    Kristen Moxley

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    • Kristen, you express yourself so well! This is a super powerful piece. I can really feel the emotion! I am going to showcase this piece in our newsletter today <3 Lauren

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      • Moxx replied 1 week ago

        Wow!! Thank you so much!! I’m completely honored! That really means a lot to me. ❤️

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    • Kirsten, Your words paint a vivid picture of a time-traveling journey filled with longing and uncertainty. It’s fascinating to imagine the possibilities and the impact of your travels. I hope that in your quest for understanding and change, you find the answers you seek and discover a world that feels new and full of promise. Remember, even in…read more

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      • Thank you Kayjah! I couldn’t agree more, that there is always the potential for connection and understanding. Very eloquently put! I have often wondered what it would be like to either time travel myself, or have a friend who time travels. I can only imagine the adventures I/they would go on!

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  • Oswald Perez shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 1 week, 3 days ago

    Happy St. Patrick's Day!

    Dear Unsealers,

    It’s the 17th day of March.

    After years of searching for Irish blessings to post on this day, I began to write my own.

    With the luck of the Irish, comes this year’s version:

    On this, the 17th day of March
    A blessing from me to you

    May your days be filled with joy
    And all the craic spent in good company

    For the peace to ease weary times
    As the rainbows fill the skies
    Under bright blue, sunny daylight

    With sweet songs sung in tune
    Carrying this message far and wide

    In this moment of Céad Míle Fáilte
    From the Emerald Isle with love, sent across the world

    Happy St Patrick’s Day!
    Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh!

    Oswald Perez

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  • I'm Broken But Who Isn't

    I’m broken but who isn’t

    I’m broken but who isn’t we’re all just trying to make things right, for the religion was believing in yourself and to find just a piece of light.

    The story of a lost soul, trapped away.
    A soul that’s hope has withered away.

    I just want to feel alive,
    I just want to feel at peace,
    I just want to feel the ease where I’m able to see..

    Chained down by endless defeat.
    Giving up when things get to hard,
    For being controlled was all we are.
    What a bad thought to have yet it stirs up ever so often, where I have nothing left inside, feeling worse than broken, but pulled apart, asking the question why does life have to be so hard?

    I used to love to dance and be free, I was a wanderer of the stars, always waiting for a time for me and my spark, then awakened the dark.

    Looking back to something long forgotten, yet there it was etched upon my skin making me itch and burn and feel weary and thin. Feeling as if I was the one forgotten, and everything was a lie, making me close my eyes and cry. Scared to fall asleep at night.
    Then one night a storm passed by.
    Howling long and strong with contentment, and a breeze that made you think back to a time of trials and testaments, yet time went by and the noises had settled. A deep sensation had risen over me,
    For I was the phoenix rising through the finer things, reborn, steadfast and strong.
    I grew to accept my nature as the light of the sky,
    And of the night. The one who works up the fight.
    The one who never gave up without a try.

    Life goes on, they say you don’t know
    Until you try, look into a deeper sight.
    Stand tall, keep your head up.
    Your dreams aren’t as far as you think.
    Even when it seems like a wink,
    A thin link between the cracks, my life had been but a dream, far beneath reach, but I decided for me there is always a new time and beginning to past defeat.

    Then one day i found the missing key,
    A key that had been stored away for safe keep.
    I found deep inside, an ember of light.

    To get up, and to fight, a calling sent from above that can’t be ignored for this call is for more than me, a call for all of us to see..
    The dark and the light that t are a never ending fight. This story has no end because the journey has just begun, we will start again, and forge ahead.

    Thought of trial and tears, all the distraught fear,
    Picking up pieces of a puzzle that was set in place.

    For only god knew what you went through.
    For through the dark is where we find the light.
    The saying goes deeper than words.
    Everything does truly happen for a reason,
    Phenomenon of the truest stories and lessons ever
    heard.

    I’m broken but who isn’t,
    A thought that crosses my mind.
    From time to time, whispers of shattered dreams linger, and souls bear burdens hard to reconcile,
    Yet in the mosaic of brokeness, we find,
    A common threat that binds.
    Each of us carries wounds unseen, in the shadows where pain has been seen. For who amongst us has this fear of despair, the seeds of our own.
    In these moments of darkness, we search for the light, to guide each of us through an endless night.

    The story unfolds, for every battle fought does not go untold, we still stand, hand in hand, so don’t let the broken parts of us decide who we are, for this is the canvas of our hearts. We are beautifully imperfect creatures from the start, we are the symphony of struggles, a dance to begin,
    For in our brokenness we find our song,
    A melody of resilience, mighty and strong.

    Shiana

    Voting starts May 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • Shandi Henley shared a letter in the Group logo of Mental HealthMental Health group 1 week, 4 days ago

    CRASH

    It’s like I’ve been trying to get somewhere my whole entire life, but
    hitting every red light along the way.
    ITS Like my brakes go out
    thousands miles too soon.
    And like I burn
    thru way too much gas after filling,
    and I can’t even trryyy to justify
    the wear n tear of the motor.
    I have Been spinning my wheel
    and getting nowhere
    for as long as I can remember.
    I’m running on fumes.
    My tires are bald.
    I’m one blow out away from
    swerving into oncoming traffic.
    My dreams are in the passenger seat
    with a broken seat belt, a drunken smile,
    and an empty bottle of vodka
    that I haven’t gotten the courage
    to throw away.
    I have a green valley
    of possibility in front of me.
    And a mountain of regret
    in my rear view mirror!
    I’m hoping there is just enough
    in the tank to make it to the end of this road. CRASH

    Shandi Lynn #SadGirlChronicles

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    • Shandi, your letter beautifully expresses the frustrations and challenges you’ve been facing. Keep pushing forward and don’t let the setbacks define you. You have the strength to overcome and reach your dreams. Stay determined and believe in yourself.

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  • To My Sister

    When you feel that you’re at the end of your rope. The one thing you do is hold onto that hope. Sometimes in your life things get tough and deep inside you feel its too much. Just keep on fighting because you’re a diamond in the rough. The one thing you have that no one can take is a heart so kind, so rare and pure. For all you endure we will find a cure. Please don’t give up, just keep on living. For you are the one in the end that will be winning.

    I wrote this for my sister battling cancer

    Jennifer Moore

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    • Jennifer, your heartfelt poem is a beautiful tribute to your sister’s strength and resilience. Your words of encouragement and love will surely uplift her spirit during this challenging time. Keep supporting and believing in her.

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  • Dear Grandpa

    Dear Grandpa,
    It’s been 11 years snice you’ve gone. I can still remember the night being so peaceful, so still, and so cold. I remember the day we laid you to rest. The snowflakes that fell that day were the biggest ones I’ve ever seen. I wanted to be one of the few who go to carry you to your final resting place, but I watched instead as my brother, cousin, brother in law, and a few others carried you instead.

    I’ll never forget when my 18th birthday rolled around and I eagerly went to the gas station and bought a can of your grizzly wintergreen chewing tobacco. I took it to you grave and had lunch with you. The sun was shining and I was happy enough even though you weren’t with me anymore.

    You were my best friend. The amount of days I skipped school just to hang out with you nearly cost me my graduation. The people at school frowned upon the week I missed when you passed. Said I shouldn’t have been gone that long and that I needed to be there from then on. What was I supposed to say? Grief has no time limit and I wasn’t capable of dragging myself out of bed to go be around people who never understood me. You always did though.

    I wonder what you would think of me now. Would you still be proud of me? Would you still be able to sit in silence with me and just watch the tv? Would you still be able to look me in the eyes and tell me everything was going to be ok? You were my safe place in this world and even though it has been 11 years my heart still hurts. I yearn to hear your laugh, see your smile, and feel the warmth of your hugs.

    I love and miss you so much, Grandpa.

    Courtney

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    • Awww Courtney! This is so sweet. Your grandpa is definitely proud of you and definitely still watching over you.

      My grandpa died when I was 13. We have the same personality and we are the only two people in our family that are very athletic – so I know I got it from him. When I was younger he would tell me rain was good luck. So after he died,…read more

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  • Skip Rocks Not Steps

    One of my earliest memories takes me back to when I was around six years old and at Geauga Lake (look it up kids!). I am there with my Gram (who is still kicking to this day and certainly an authority on overcoming hard times). I can remember even then her saying… “If something is too good to be true, it is. You can’t skip steps.” That was a constant refrain followed by constant warnings against kidnappers.

    But I am too busy walking off the Big Dipper near closing time, and I notice there is no line. Decked out in a neon fanny pack and my best jellies (again, look it up!), I feel like destiny is shining upon me. Everything in my short six years has been leading up to this moment. I am positively on top of the world despite needing to use the restroom and failing to tell my Gram of this plan. I don’t bother with a pesky line – no way! I simply skip it by crawling underneath the ropes, zigging and zagging between turnstiles and proudly presenting myself for one more ride. I am so caught up in the glory I don’t think of the much needed bathroom break nor the woman who firmly believes every amusement park is a cover for the bad guys to kidnap me.

    I never make it on the ride because my Gram is screaming for me, and I am so flustered that I trip on the way back out, more zagging than zigging, and fall face first on the concrete. My glory is gone. Gram is still screaming about not skipping steps – and lines! – and she’s still right today. You cannot skip steps and should always look out for kidnappers.

    I draw your attention to this anecdote, because her lesson was was twofold. One, you have to surround yourself with people who want you to succeed and act accordingly. I didn’t know back then how important relationships and building them would be, just that I loved her. Find a person who is in your corner, and don’t burn that bridge. A mentor can take any shape – a priest, a teacher, a neighbor. It is a beautiful gift when you find non-romantic relationships and build your support system. However, I still wasn’t listening as much as hearing about this not skipping steps stuff.

    I am not going to pretend my life has been hard. That came later. I was a child to whom everything came easy. Not homecoming queen but friends with everyone. Not the smartest but top of my class. Went to college, studied abroad, attended law school, passed the bar the first time, met the love of my life and had a spectacular wedding. But when it came time to have a baby, my body quite literally betrayed me. I was told I would never have kids. And it was like I was face down at Geauga Lake all over again, but I still wanted to race to the finish.

    I see now things were too good to be true because I hadn’t built a foundation to deal with the overwhelming changes – the IVF treatments, added expense, and fights with insurance companies. This was all before I could even get pregnant. Gram and I discussed a quick plan of putting in the work and staying positive. That meant quitting my prescription medication, cutting out drinking and working out. A voice in my head whispered But you aren’t pregnant, you can skip that.

    I’ll tell you the second prong of advice now. The first being to find a person who supports you and gives good advice early… and then you actually take it. I didn’t realize how difficult dealing with infertility was going to be. And I was so angry. Is this privilege? Absolutely, and when I commit to something, I really commit. I didn’t stop my medication, oh no. I took extra. I didn’t stop drinking; I poured another while scrolling social media and tormenting myself with Instagram gender reveals. Positivity? What was there to be positive about when I couldn’t get what I wanted easily?

    I fell so far in my marriage, my career, and who I was. I know now from working out, eating right, getting sleep, and doing meaningful work that I could have kept my mind and body aligned for the journey to motherhood. Instead, I turned up at my Grandmother’s door much later than I should have, lost and scared in a way I never knew. She held me while I words failed me. It was sadder than being told I couldn’t have kids.

    That day was both not very long ago and also another lifetime. I am back on my feet, a practicing attorney who can walk 5 miles a day, can make more than reservations for dinner, and show up in my own life. It is because I live every day grateful for having a support system. Putting in the work and not skipping the steps to wellness, for me, has been tough. But I am different and more present and joyful because I know I can handle the toughest of times.

    I will be seeing Gram tomorrow for our weekly lunch date. I won’t be late, and I won’t have to cancel. I do not skip steps when it comes to what matters and neither should you. Six year old me would be proud of this woman – a mom to a silly golden retriever who hasn’t given up on the hope of motherhood and also wears a fanny pack to court.

    Sara

    Voting starts May 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • The Fight for My Legacy

    To whom it may concern, might you share in my journey of perseverance…!
    At 30 years of age, I can say my entire experience has been a testimony. My grandmother raised me. My mother passed on when I was just about four years old, and my father spent most of my childhood years in another city or state. As a child I was extremely curious! I was also gifted, charismatic and reserved. It was evident that I was different. It took me a while to really understand that the only opinion that mattered was my own. Not in a defensive way either. More so, I know what I am, who I am and whose I am. If I want to change something about myself, I have the strength, wisdom and discipline to do so. As long as I love myself through the process, no one’s judgment can harm me. I’ve outgrown internalizing someone else’s opinion of me. This has become the center of peace in my life and is the reason I can live my life in the way that suits me best! My upbeat life began in early childhood, at roughly 5 years of age. I danced with 2 dance companies until I was 13. I am soon to be 31 and I still dance! I’ve studied ballet, tap, jazz, majorette/dance line, contemporary and modern dance. Independently I perform and I teach dance during the school day. I began to teach myself how to do nails and study the craft in elementary school when I’d gotten my nails done for the first time and my grandmother told me that she wasn’t going to pay for me to go back. In 2014 I obtained my nail technicians license and in 2021 I obtained my master educator certification. I currently have been running my exclusive nail organization since 2017! I allowed my growing pains to be a compass in helping others understand their thoughts and emotions by becoming an inspirational speaker. I’ve learned how to use my voice by way of writing my own music. I release creatively through crafting and painting. Sharing these intimate parts of myself with others. My gifts gave me purpose and everyday I put my best foot forward to secure the promise of my legacy! Learning how to be a serial entrepreneur while also being human is like learning how to juggle in real time. With no experience. I’m learning how to manage 5 entities under my LLC series. It’s a lot but I’m doing it anyway! It is difficult some days and a breeze on others. I’m still committed! Nothing worth having comes easy! I have been blessed to be able to keep going and so I am. May you be inspired and motivated to answer the call to your greatness!
    – Sincerely, Porsha

    Porsha O.M. George

    Voting starts May 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • To all the young quitters of the world

    To all the young quitters of the world,

    I was born a hoarder of mediocrity, dispirited by even the most menial of tasks. Gifted with abundant aptitude—cursed with atychiphobia. What use is a cat without sails, hopelessly set afloat in a sea with no current? When faced with a challenge, I’d give up before contemplating the reward. I was a winner of few, loser of none, for I could never lose a game that I’d never play. I too was a quitter wholly, by heart and mind; complacent, satisfied— safe.

    Coddled by this mentality, I drifted aimlessly through grade school, consistently settling for participation awards. If it didn’t come to me naturally, I’d quit each sport my parents put me in by my second season. My room lay riddled with numerous abandoned projects. By middle school, quitting came to me as soaring does a peregrine. Only when I’d discovered the joy of making art did I learn to persevere.

    My eighth-grade art class diverted me from a lengthy path leading to one destination— life-long unfulfillment. Tasked with creating an acrylic flower portrait, I finally accepted a challenge. I’d finally tried to move the boat. My vision translated from my mind to my hands to my canvas. This was it, I thought. This was what I was made to do. This was something I wouldn’t desert. Just shy of a few weeks of tedious editing and revisal, my painting was finished. I gently propped the canvas against the board, but when I stepped back to get a better view, my smile faded. My face contorted as I fought the oceans-worth of tears welling my eyes; I’d failed.

    I’d ruined, disrespected, mutilated the flower’s image. Water started pouring through the crevices of my fatally flawed vessel. As I slowly tore away from the world, the sea of chagrin engulfed me greedily. Instinctively, my muscles relaxed as I began my descent; I’d already given up.

    Just as the sky began to fade away into the murky sea, a small, wooden row boat floated into view.

    “You’re a natural-born artist”. As if one compliment from my teacher had unturned years of defeatist ideals, my body began to propel itself to the surface. My hand gripped the ledge of the boat as I pulled my body over the side. I moved like it was something I’d always done. Before gathering myself, I briefly stared at the sunken catamaran below. With a scull in each hand, I started my next project.

    This time I’d set out with a new mindset; this time, I controlled where I’d go. The subsequent project turned out as wretched as the last, as did the next few works I’d produced. Still, I would not quit. Art is a passion that would’ve laid dormant if I’d quit when I wanted to. It mattered not the quality of my work, but the slow improvements with each piece. I learned that like most things in life, art is not something perfected on the first try nor the second. It is not until the hundredth try that an artist starts to appreciate their work.

    To this day, my art does not meet my standards, and it likely never will, but I’ll never stop creating. I’ll keep rowing until the water parts and my feet can touch the seafloor. Even then, I won’t stop moving. I’ll keep running until I can no longer endure because quitting is a comfort known only to the ordinary. Set sail with the propellant of a thousand ships and may your ship be unsinkable.

    Violet

    Voting starts May 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • Green Light Stop: Red Light Go

    I’m not giving up right now.
    A middle aged white man calls on a Friday, letting me know I don’t have a chance.
    Let it go, this won’t go well for me.

    Wait, what?

    Finding that spot within myself, where my ego jumps ship.
    I’m not giving up simply because it’ll be hard to prove.
    I’m not giving up because it’ll be hard on you.

    I’m not giving up, but I understand why so many do.
    I’m not giving up because I know my truth.

    There’s no holding me back,
    I’m not confused anymore.

    Despite being scared, exiled by friends.
    I’m standing up for myself.

    When I testify on Monday, I may be scared.
    But I will not back down,
    I will set the bar here.

    And when I am mocked and told it’s not a big deal,
    I will think of myself and every one in this place too.

    As lonely as it feels, I know I cannot be alone.
    I will hold up my stop sign, and trust in myself.
    I am not stopping at green,
    Because I’m learning to go.

    Mel Taul

    Voting starts May 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • Remodeled Images

    It’s so easy to give up
    Nowadays too many people count you out
    Before you can even start to pursue your goals
    But if there is anything I’ve learned
    There are situations,
    There are challenges,
    There are distractions,
    There are difficult times,
    All of which will test you,
    Teach you,
    Mold you
    Or prepare you for life’s biggest blessings
    I remember back in 2018
    I was partying with my family on Memorial Day
    The next day I struggled to get up for work
    On May 30th, 2018
    I got a call while at work that my apartment was on fire
    Everything was a blur
    Taking a cab all the way to Brooklyn
    Not even sure what it cost me that day
    I was headed back to the remnants
    Of what used to be
    It was the last place my mom called home
    As tears filled my eyes
    I could smell the smoke
    As I approached my door
    I didn’t know exactly what I was in store for
    The beautiful memories on the wall gone
    Much of the pictures that we all treasured
    Much of the priceless artifacts we retained from traveling
    Much of the furniture
    Much of my mom’s last purchases
    Much of my family’s history
    Lost in piles of ashes
    Several days and months went by
    Thankful for the love and support
    Of family and close friends
    I was able to stay positive
    Trying to rebuild from scratch
    ‘Cause what else was there to do
    Creating a go fundme page was suggested
    But my pride wouldn’t let me do it
    I worked tirelessly
    Drowning my pain and sorrow
    Feeling hopeless
    Losing sight of my reality
    Numbing my depressed mind
    With gifts
    Not trying to guilt trip
    Possible scenarios
    Left me realizing
    I had to stop feeling sorry for myself
    Instead, find hope
    And persevere
    I had to remember to make my mama proud
    Though rebuilding takes time
    I knew I had to start to make my remodeled apartment
    My home again!

    Tracy B.

    Voting starts May 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • 2:12

    There are very few things about myself that I take pride in
    But at 26 years old, I can say I take pride in the fact that I’ve never gotten into a fist fight.
    I mean aside from the lack of appeal in the concept of consenting to another person damaging my face, it all just seems so kerbobbled.
    It’s also because I think, I may, probably, possibly, definitely lose.
    However, Theres always an exception. And in my case, two.
    I know when it comes down to a fight for my siblings, I will not lose.
    My brother, more gold than that bridge spanning across the San Francisco Bay, I’ve found my god and those promised pearly gates through the beam in his eyes.
    My sister, nothing less than a generator of majesty and the receptacle of my divinity’s origin, She is the source of light my destiny clings to.
    Both, an embodied compilation of so many of my victories, I have yet lost a fight when it comes to them.
    I fought for our sanctuary to remain a home even after the invasion and crumbled into a warzone.
    I fought for innocence to remain the outfit we could still wear because trauma didn’t quite suit us yet.
    For our skin to remain as sacred as an impromptu roast session or a 3-man bedroom party.
    For arguments to remain as simplistic as who hid the TV remote when everything around us was out of control.
    For hugs to hold us together while we fell apart.
    For laughter to be the portal that returned us bring us back to each other on the days we didn’t know who to blame or to hate or where to start.
    I fought against the lonely that lingered in the shadows of a 3am, for it to never distort us into believing a 6am sun would never rise in us again.
    My siblings are the breath and life to every one of my words that became a corpse muted by the midnight valley known as myself.
    I’m 30 now and while the list of things I take pride in has expanded exponentially, so has my understanding in the realization that I’ve actually spent my whole life fighting.
    Its been 509 days since my sibilings and I have been apart and lately it seems I’m only fighting for my desire to keep fighting.
    My mournings feel like eternities of disbelief.
    My daze feel like seas of grief.
    My knights feel armored with defeat
    And yet,
    Time reminds me that fighting is revolutionary.
    It pays homage to our ancestors who fought for us before and preserves our legacy for those who are sure to come after.
    If we listen close enough, we can hear the wind whisper that it’s almost 6am and we’re so close to rising again.

    Voting starts May 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • Everything

    Even everything
    is nothing until it is free-
    Stability in insecurity.
    Dependable: independent.

    Exhausted: motivated-
    Weakness mirrors strength.
    Liberation & flexibility
    strength is having no needs.

    Resilience- divine
    breaking silence,
    power through pain.
    Vulnerability- resplendent.

    Humble: malleable
    peace through pain.
    Adaptability is key,
    shedding of the ego.

    Admitting the desire
    to change and grow
    asking for help;
    while retaining pride in yourself.

    Hillary Rosenthal

    Voting starts May 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • Persevere - a dizain poem

    Get back up, through all of the shouts and pain

    Forgive your faults and ignore rude comments

    Through only your eyes can you see your gain

    Walk out of the dark and own the moments

    Show them who you are, it’s time to commence

    Your wants are vast, and all achievable

    Stand up tall, like a horse in its stable

    Now try and try as you must persevere

    You can win this, you are more than able

    You won’t give up and you cannot stop here

    Jana McNally

    Voting starts May 16, 2024 12:00am

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