Activity
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Lillith Campos shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 3 months agoFor Emily
Lillith Raine CamposThis was written November 26th, 2020. I had been struggling with the death of a friend; it happened to hit a little too close to home for me. I had a sense of survivor’s guilt. I felt that it should have been, could very easily have been me. It wreaked havoc on my mental state for months, thus my therapist suggested writing this in her memory. I remember it as if it happened yesterday, my therapist being so compassionate but also cautioning me, bracing me, making sure I understood that being a part of this community, Emily will not be the only person I lose to suicide or even murder. We as trans people do not have a long-life expectancy.
So, we need a little back story. I met Emily in December in a support group on Facebook for depression, anxiety and suicide. She is a transgender woman like myself. She is 25 years old and would have been 26 this month. Her and another transwoman we met in that group bonded rather quickly over not just our suicidal ideations, self-harm and depression, but also from all 3 of us sharing the trials and tribulations of being transgender in this shit hole of a country.
Her family disowned her for being trans, and very rarely used the correct pronouns. She was kicked out of her home yet was able to find an apartment where she lived in Atlanta. She hated being trans. She was happier on hormones of course but still hated the fact she was not a cis woman. She was in enormous debt from so many medical Bill’s due to numerous suicide attempts and being hospitalized in psych wards. In the 4 months we knew each other she probably spent 5 or 6 weeks in a psych ward. She was of the mind she would fake it until she made it, meaning whatever she had to do to get off suicide watch. She swore once her medical bills were paid off, she would end it. She planned to wait because she did not want to stick the family that disowned her with the medical bills.
She was always thinking about others and loved to please people. We all became very close in such a short amount of time. When she was in the psych hospital, we would call daily to check on her. She attempted three times in the time I knew her, once with a noose but the rope broke. Twice with pills, the last one resulting in seizures and a hospital stay before another psych stay.
We had an agreement between the three of us. We knew how depressed we were. We knew we all longed for death, and we hated how people were trying to keep us alive when all we wanted was to die. How could people be so selfish? So, we gave each other permission to die. We would not try to talk each other out of it because we understood each other. We agreed that what we would do was to at least say goodbye to the others in the group. Give the others a chance to say goodbye and that we love each other one last time. That did not happen. Emily left us and we did not get to say goodbye to her.
I really want to be mad at her for that, but I understand her pain. I understand her fear that we would try and talk her out of it. I am so very sad that I lost her, but I am comforted in the knowledge that she Isn’t suffering anymore. Emily confided in me outside of our group chat a couple of times that one thing that was keeping her going was she did not want others to be sad about her loss. And that she feared Rose (the other one in our group) would kill herself if in fact either one of us did kill ourselves. Rose mentioned as much that she would do that.
We must do better as humans. Misgendering takes such a toll on us. The things we go through daily wears us down every day, and it seems like this entire country is on a witch hunt with us being the witches (I’m pagan but people just say witches). We are slowly being killed off by mental illness due to the struggles of being transgender. And those struggles, those mental illnesses are caused from outside influences 99 percent of the time.
We need to talk about this more openly. So many suffer from depression and suicidal ideation. We must remove the stigma from this topic. People have to stop being afraid to talk about it. RIP Emily Nicole Brown. I will miss you.
Here Is the link to her blog. You will get a better mindset of her thinking. http://www.emilythetransgirl.wordpress.com
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Kendra Bendewald shared a letter in the
Introductions, Icebreakers and Prompts group 3 months agoPleasure to Meet You
Kendy BendewaldUnsealers,
I seem to have a difficult time finding the right words to begin an introduction about who I am because I am still trying to figure that out for myself. I do know that I have a story to tell, and I feel incredibly grateful to have stumbled upon this community where I finally have an opportunity to start doing that for the first time in my life.
Starting at a young age, I had a craving for the fast life. I entered into the throws of addiction shortly after my age became double digits, I was gifted with a laundry list of mental health diagnosis at age 25 including but not limited to type 1 bipolar, C-PTSD, anxiety, and depression; and in turn I have landed myself in some fairly… less than ideal circumstances due to those facts. All in all my intentions are mostly pure, but I have a tendency to take red flags and mistake them for a carnival, and I seem to try every wrong thing first before I finally get life figured out. Some of the shit I have gotten myself into has changed me forever, some of it makes for a hilarious story, and some of it can still bring me to tears just by thinking about it. All of it has brought me to where I am today. I have experienced child birth, divorce (not once but twice), multiple types of abuse (both on the giving and receiving end), homelessness, prostitution, incarceration, and the list goes on. It will be interesting to see going forward how this all eventually gets out on paper, but I appreciate every one of you that are about to guide me through making that happen. I would love to get to know you all, and I am looking forward to reading what each of you has to say.XOXO, kendy
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Aww Kendy, It sounds like you have been through so much and at the end of the day it’s all led you to look back inside yourself and connect with your heart. You are so strong, and I loved the line about seeing red flags as carnivals. I have totally been there. Welcome to our family. Thank you for sharing. I am going to feature this peace in our…read more
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Thank you for the kind words, and that’s awesome!
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Kendy,
Life isn’t always kind, I am sorry you have had so much to deal with. And here you are. I hope to read some of your story. This is a kind and supportive space, It’s good to write, read listen and feel the support of this group. Welcome!
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Oswald Perez shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months agoBeannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh!
Dear Unsealers:
It’s the seventeenth day of March.
So the adage goes, we’re all a little bit Irish today. With that in mind, I hope that everyone has a wonderful St. Patrick’s Day with all the luck.
As I’ve done since 2021, I’ve written my own Irish blessing, and it goes like this…
On this, the 17th day of March
A blessing from me to youMay the sun shine upon you
Blue skies above, green grass belowRainbows to appear when you’re near
A life lived joyfully, without many tearsFor your troubles to be less
The craic always kept in good cheerAll the shamrocks bringing luck
With the warmth of Eire’s heart, soulThere’s one more thing to say
To everyone on the Emerald Isle…Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh-
Oswald, I’ve always loved the fun and celebratory spirit of St. Patrick’s Day. After all, who doesn’t want to feel a little luckier than usual? I love how your poem captures the positive and uplifting nature of the holiday and also pays homage to the Irish. Thank you for sharing!
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Kendra Bendewald shared a letter in the
Surviving Addiction group 3 months agoI see you
Kendra BendewaldYou can see us on street corners
Or down the dark alleys
We are hardly a sight for sore eyes
We are dirty and vacant
With ripped clothes and sad faces
We wear this as our new disguise.
See some time ago
We were regular people
Until something in life got us down
Whether it heartbreak or money
Family or lack of
There’s something we needed to drown
The voices in our heads
That tell us we aren’t worth shit
Or The memories we just can’t move on from
Maybe it’s trauma or sadness
Or just basic madness
Fill in the blank with your own noun
It ripped us apart
And it spit out the pieces
And robbed us of all we once cherished
We were desperate for relief
So we followed the dragon
We got lost on the way; our souls perished.
Now as is probably Expected
Pretty much textbook
We burn bridges with selfish behavior
Some of us come back
And they find inner peace
And usually they call it their savior
But some of us misfits
The world has forgotten
We’re broken and fucked up
downright dirty and rotten
Someone or something has shattered our hearts
And we know that we’re never the same
So we escape all the pain
With powder or pills
And we find ourselves stuck in this game
We spiral and wander
Away from reality
And further down into the abyss
The people around us
eventually give up
Cause what’s even still there to miss?
We are just scumbags on street corners
Or down the dark alleys
We’re junkies; unfortunate souls
We fucked up, we get it
We don’t need reminded
Please shut up or spark up a bowl-
Kendra, this is so powerful but also heartbreaking. You are so worthy. I want to send you the biggest hug, and I hope you find the healing in your heart and the happiness in your life that you so deserve. Please also check out our resources page, theunsealed.com/resources. Sending you the biggest hug.
Sharing with some of our users that can…read more
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Kendra, this poem is raw and powerful. It is easy for others to judge a situation when they aren’t the ones to experience it, but they don’t realize the individual story that each person experiencing addiction has. You are so right that these individuals do not need reminders of what they’ve done at their worst, but instead deserve compassion and…read more
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Kendra,
That is absolutely beyond beautiful 🌹
You hit the nail on the head in a lot of areas. I just want to share one with you, I’m sure you’ll understand.
I wrote this at correctional treatment facility in 2000, it’s called…The Cloud:
I have this cloud inside my brain
That storms out loud with lightning and rain
That no one can take my…read more-
That is amazing! I love the cloud reference too. Being a past frequent flyer in treatment facilities I remember the pink cloud lesson well
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P.S.
You are an Angel
You guard with your life people such as myself, and you know the ones that are like us. Never give up, and when you’re feeling hopeless remember…
You have superpowers inside, just as Lauren Brill has spoken and written about. Please believe her cuz the woman knows what she’s talking about too. I have more respect for you…read more
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Heather shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months agoMood: Nostalgic
HeatherCan we go back to playing barbies on the bedroom floor?
Playing baby dolls on rainy days?
Or to those Saturday mornings of cartoons & a big bowl of Fruit Loops cereal?
Can we go back to those summer days of frozen Capri Suns, popsicles, & all day swim sessions?
Or to those skid knees from falling off bikes.
Falling down from rollerblading.
Can we go back to late night sleepovers at grandma’s house?
Or those next morning wake up calls of fresh pancakes consuming grandma’s house.
Can we go back to playing videos games all night?
Playing the game tag all day outside?
Can we go back to a time when it wasn’t rushing us to grow old?
When time was less of our worries.
Or to those summer days of riding bikes in dust storms feeling powerful?
Can we go back to a time when feeling free was all we knew?-
Heather, this takes me back to my childhood. My younger sister and I spent long summer days outside feeling as if they would never end. When we are children, we usually don’t realize the beauty of a life without adult responsibility. I’d love to go back too! Thank you for sharing your thoughts.
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Heather, I so feel all of this, and these thoughts enter my head every now and then. Childhood was so magical and I never knew life would be so different when I grew up. Maybe it doesn’t have to be? Thank you for sharing. I am going to feature this piece in our newsletter today. <3 Lauren
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Thank you for this! & thank you for sharing in the newsletter. Means so much to not just me but to my internal human who finds such zen in writing. She FINALLY feels heard. Her words are FINALLY being seen in a community that she’s searched for so long. Thank you!!
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Martha Moore shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months, 1 weeks agoOn My Mind... Again
Martha C MooreI sit down to write
You’re on my mind again
But this is nothing new
By now I’m used to itSometimes it’s all consuming
Other times, fleeting thoughts
Either way it hits me
I’m left feeling lostI ache to my core for you
Miss every moment we never shared
I need you to know I love you
And that I’ll always careI’ll never forget you
My soul knows something is missing
My brain tries to rationalize it
But my heart is never listening-
Martha, missing someone who is no longer a part of our life leaves us feeling bereft and unmoored. No matter how irrational we know our feelings may be, it doesn’t stop them from consuming us. Whether we choose to listen to our hearts or our minds, these feelings do not often dissipate as quickly as we’d like. Thank you for sharing this moving poem!
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Thank you for taking the time to read it. I appreciate it so much.
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Martha, This is so beautiful and so relatable. I totally know what it’s like to miss someone you love and feel it in the vibration of your heart. I am going to feature this poem in our newsletter today. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of The Unsealed. Sending hugs. <3 Lauren
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Thank you for the support and encouragement. It is truly and deeply appreciated.
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Vicki Lawana Trusselli shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 3 months, 1 weeks agoPSYCHOLOGY OF PROJECTION
Vicki Lawana TrusselliDear Unsealed,
PSYCHOLOGY OF PROJECTION
The theory of the psychology of projection is a phenomenal viral situation in 2024.
There are people who project their ill feelings, anger, insecurities onto the closest empath standing in their way.
You spewed obscenities at me that day
As you do everyday
you blame me for your failed attitude
that is not subdued
I ask you why
Why do you project your insecurities onto me
You reply
It’s all your fault
It’s my fault you say
No, you just caught
In another lie
I sigh
Why?
You yell at me
You are nothing to me
So, let it be
I cry
I say
No
I could be your fake friend
Until the end
So, then you yell
To me
Not let it be
But cruel words of anger
That makes you a danger
To my world
To your world
To all worlds
As you carry on
With your blaming me
For your misdeeds
Of unconscious reprimanding me
Or any other empath
The victim of your wrath
You are jealous and angry
You sit around spewing obscenities
Of hate and bigotry of amenities
And talents of other people on Earth
So, tell me,
For what it’s worth
How do you wake up everyday
To your vile words of insanity
Of what may be your reality
To trash the Earth
With your dark soul
Of cruel intentions of old
As your soul was sold
To the vile fiery hell of hades
Of your life of death,
Here what I say.
Your dark empty vessel of skin
Can not win
You are the demon of Earth
For what it’s worth
You are not anything
You are a blank empty soul
Of nothing
But your lies
Your ego
You cry, you scream
At me
Let it be
You are the epitome of humanity
Garbage dump
Dump Dump-
Vicki, I’ve never given much thought to the psychology of projection, but I can see how feelings projected onto an empathetic person would be detrimental to his or her well-being. When people with darkness inside them feel the need to bring down those who would do them no harm, it really shows their true nature. I hope that, as an empath, you can…read more
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I am working on that with my therapist
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Heather shared a letter in the
Remembering those we lost/Grief group 3 months, 1 weeks agoPersonal Bodyguards
HeatherWhen I see a tiny lizard or a gecko on the sidewalk, I see you & smell the softness of pancakes cooking in the kitchen.
When I see a black cat, I see you & instantly smell gingerbread cookies baking in the oven around Christmas time.
When I see a white Chevy truck, I see two young girls sitting in the bed of the truck embracing the moment of the wind blowing amongst their tiny faces after a fun filled day in the snow
When I see elder men wearing their “Veterans” hat, I see you standing before me. I feel the softness in the air. I see the gentleness of your soul standing amongst the crowd. I thank that individual for their service as I walk away.
When I see the color purple out in the world, I see you. When I’m at work & hear similar words from my clients, I think of you standing before me. When I see the card game “Go Fish” being played, I see two younger girls sitting at their grandmother’s table laughing til their tummy hurts.
When I see a yellow tractor, I see a young adult enjoying the time being spent with their grandfather. When I see a blue truck, I see you & start singing those old country songs we’d sing together.
No matter where I go in life, I see you.
I see all of you!
Wherever I go, you are right there guiding the way. The way to clarity. To beautiful blessings. To happiness. To calmness. To love.No matter the length of missing you, the memories, all of the memories will forever be shared.
Wherever I go in life, I know I have several bodyguards guiding me along my path. Protecting me.-
Heather, this piece makes my heart smile. We all have little ways of remembering those we lost in our day-to-day lives, and it brings us so much comfort. Whenever I see a butterfly hover near me, I feel like my aunt is giving me a hug. When I see a red bird, I feel comforted by my granny’s presence even though she’s been gone for years. Our…read more
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Liz shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months, 1 weeks agoThis post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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Heather shared a letter in the
To my younger self group 3 months, 1 weeks agoChurch Parking Lot
HeatherI met my younger self on a Sunday morning in a church parking lot.
She looked as if she just saw God.
Hair golden blonde.
Eyes piercing blue.
Sun beaming on her young face.
She ran up to my car and jumped in the passenger seat.
Touching every button.
Opening every compartment.
Smiling.
Dimples radiating so big.
She looks over at me and with a smile as big as a car tire, she tells me, “We did it!”
She gives me such a huge hug, one that felt as if it was building up for years.
Smiles at me with such accomplishment.
Opens the car door and gradually skips away to the beat of her own drum.
As I watch that little girl skip away, I acknowledge her happiness.
Her joy. Her fulfillment.
I acknowledge the fear that once guarded her.
As I watch that little girl skip away, I remind myself that every achievement is not just for me, but for her as well.
She deserves the world.
She deserves achievements.
She deserves this moment right now.
Right here in the church parking lot.-
Heather, being able to look back and “see” yourself as a child gives you a glimpse of the innocence and uninhibited happiness that you possessed before life taught you to fear. While we all become disillusioned as we see the reality of the world, it is important to remember and appreciate the beauty in the journey. I am glad that you continue to…read more
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Heather shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 3 months, 1 weeks agoDear Anxiety
HeatherHold my hand. Gently grab these fingers and walk with me.
I have something to share with you.
Let’s go for a walk.I know it’s in your nature to save me. To protect me.
I’m here to let you know, it’s okay.
I understand your job, but right now, your job is on hold.
I’ve got this now.
It’s time for you to take a break.I know it’ll be hard for you to come to terms with it, but I’m okay.
I’m safe now. I’ve found the middle ground.
You don’t need to cover me with your comfort shield.
I’ve got this. I promise.You can go lay down and rest.
Shut your eyes.
Silence the noise.
Relax.Sincerely,
Me-
Heather, I also suffer from anxiety and I can relate to what you wrote so much. Though our anxiety serves a purpose- to keep us safe and prepared- it also prevents us from finding joy in the uncertainties of life. Like you, I hope to find a middle ground that allows me to relax and enjoy my life while still being cognizant of what goes on around…read more
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Oswald Perez shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months, 1 weeks agoInternational Women's Day 2025
Oswald PerezDear Unsealers,
It’s the eighth day of March.
A Happy International Women’s Day to all the women of the world. From my mom, my sister, all of my female friends and relatives. And to all the women in The Unsealed.
In honor of your strength, kindness and tenacity, comes this poem…
On International Women’s Day 2025
A salute to all the women
Family, relatives, friends and acquaintances
In every corner of the worldMay they keep making this world a better place
Bringing their light, tenacity and strength
Into these trying days and nightsMay we learn from their compassion
Their willingness to stick up for what’s rightI wouldn’t be the person I am
Kind, compassionate and fierce
If not for my mom and sister
The two most important women in my lifeHere’s to the women of the world
Celebrated on this 8th day of MarchAnd every single day of the year!
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Oswald, this poem is such a sweet tribute to the women you’ve encountered. It is obvious, based on your kindness and compassion, that some top tier ladies have influenced you! As a woman, your words mean a lot to me even though I do not know you personally. Thank you for supporting and uplifting the women in your life and for sharing your lovely poetry!
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michae1 shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months, 2 weeks ago2 Fingers Up
Michael L George jrSelf reflecting with two
fingers up. Projecting peace,
A double entendre.
Happy, with a joyful smile
Showing my teeth.
With the acception of
A Farwell to the past versions of me.-
Michael, this poem makes me think that you are feeling confident and excited about life. I love that you are “projecting peace” with your two fingers up and smiling with your teeth. I hope that you are able to continue living your truth! Thank you for sharing.
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Noirerequiem shared a letter in the
To the people we love group 3 months, 2 weeks agoMy Letter 2 Music
AmbitiousBMarieDear Music,
You have been my first love, my most loyal companion, and my greatest storyteller. Before I even knew how to express myself fully, you spoke for me. You carried my joy, my pain, my anger, and my healing in melodies, in beats, in lyrics that felt like they were written just for me.
When the world felt too loud, you gave me rhythm. When silence was too heavy, you filled it with sound. You have never judged me for how I felt-you simply embraced me, wrapped me in harmonies, and let me be.
You have been my bridge to places I have never been, to people I have never met. You break barriers, crossing languages and cultures, bringing souls together in a way nothing else can. Through you, strangers have become family, and stories have been passed down like sacred traditions.
Whether I was dancing in joy, drowning in sorrow, or standing in quiet reflection, you have always been there. Guiding me. Holding me. Reminding me that I am not alone.
Thank you for your presence in every stage of my life. For being my escape, my therapy, my celebration. Thank you for giving me the courage to tell my own stories. I will always love you. I will always need you.Forever Yours,
AmbitiousBMarie-
Music has a way of helping us through our struggles like nothing else can, whether we realize it or not. If I am feeling broken and I listen to a specific song, sometimes it has the power to give me the strength to repair myself. If my heart is aching, a few ballads help me remember that I am not alone. I am glad that music has such an impact on…read more
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Music is made from storytellers and poets like us. And it’s always great to appreciate it.
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Noirerequiem shared a letter in the
Introductions, Icebreakers and Prompts group 3 months, 2 weeks agoIt'sAStory
AmbitiousBMarieMay this find you all in good health and wellness.
Let me introduce myself:I am AmbitiousBMarie. (Branching off to a new name soon ***NoireRequiem***
Been writing since I was 13.
I’m a former foster youth and I strongly believe writing played a major role in my therapy during that time.
I’m currently located in York,PA
I was born and raised in NYC, Tha Bronx.
I want to bring people on the journey of my life.We are the ones who hold the history of this World.
We are the true storytelling animals that write through it all.
And I am here to give my part of the story.So glad to find community online and I hope we all can find solace in each other’s writing journey.
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Marie, I have been reading a lot of your work and I am always impressed with your eloquence and the way you make your words so relatable. I’m sure that your childhood in foster care was challenging in a way that those who haven’t experienced it cannot understand, but I think it has given you a strength that is palpable in your work. I can’t wait…read more
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I appreciate you so much.
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Oswald Perez shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months, 2 weeks agoMarch On!
Oswald PerezDear Unsealers,
It’s the first day of March.January took a century to go by. February passed through quickly.
March is a month of transition.As the clocks will turn ahead an hour in a week. More daylight on the commute home from work.
The countdown to Easter begins. The Lenten season begins on Ash Wednesday.A month that honors women, and brings cerebral palsy to the forefront. And a moment marking five years since the world as we knew it was upended.
March is a month when the seasons begin to change. It begins in the last days of winter and comes to a close at the start of spring.
All in thirty-one days.
As with every month, a welcome in verse:
March
Month number three, in 2025The month comes in like a lion
As winter’s chill and hints of spring trade daysThirty-one days lie ahead.
A season of transitionFrom clocks moving ahead
Equal hours of night and dayA month of solemnity
The countdown to Easter begins.It’s also Cerebral Palsy Awareness Month.
And five years since the AwakeningThe month goes out like a lamb
As the first blooms arrive-
Oswald, I love how you always usher in a new month with hopeful anticipation! March feels like a month of transition to me as well. As winter fades away and spring begins to show its colors, we feel a sense of possibility….unless we are talking about five years ago when March stood for something completely different. Thank you for sharing this piece!
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jismar submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 3 weeks agoPoetry, I Love & Value Thee
Jiselle MarquezSpoken word
I am heard
From paper to presence
Poetry has given me unlimited expression
I am free
Oh how I do love theeTo have no judgements
No expectations
Only speaking from my highest vibrations
I radiate my lungs
I embody every room in which I stand
Taking my audience on my journey with me
From ear to ear
Rather than hand to handTo have aced every essay
To have read books in the summer
Who knew my calling was to be a poet or an author
No one shows you this is a feasible path
Discouraging you
Saying it’s impractical, unattainable
Only because they’ve never dreamed
of being outside an office or a cubicle
I won’t be naive, I won’t falter
Because for me this dream is anything but impossibleI love the way poetry makes me feel more myself
Every artist can tell you
It’s not for love of money
Not for approval or acceptance
With every note sung, brush stroke, or word spoke
We are emanating our deepest passionsWe are the few unafraid to allow our hearts to shine through
To be vulnerable & bare
To conquer our fear of public speaking
Standing alone on this stage
Yet I don’t feel alone
Sharing my truth with others
Yet it’s safe
It feels like homeCliché to say
But I’m thankful, grateful & blessed
I have found my passion
I withhold love for myself through my writing
& Perhaps call me old fashioned
But there’s nothing more sentimental
Than receiving a hand-written letter
Instead of this new age typingIt’s true paper will always beat rock
Because when my pen hits the paper
I fancy the way the ink glides
The world makes sense again
Writing letter by letter
Mastering my scribe
Curating every sentence
Every stanza
Every story with prideMy thoughts no longer jumbled
I can now see so clearly
I feel weightless
I feel untouchable
It has been my superpower for the world to hear me
Some people want to leave behind money or a legacy
For me—
I will have left my voice, my storyOh poetry, I love & value thee
Thank you for being a safe place for meVoting is closed
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Jiselle,
I loved your letter to your gift of poetry! I also love that it is your highest vibration, as is authenticity! I also love to write handwritten letters, so if you want a penpal, something I have always wanted to do, I’d love to write to you! Enjoy your passion! -
Jiselle, this poem is absolutely gorgeous and definitely confirms your talent with words. I can relate to what you said about acing essays and reading books in the summer throughout childhood and adolescence. A love for reading and writing emerges when we are young and continues blossoming for our entire lives. Thank you for sharing your story!
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You definitely captured what it means to write and possessing the artistry to craft a bridge between writer and reader. It was very beautiful to see that you captured what it means to be a poet, it was like looking into a mirror. Thank you for sharing
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poeticaddiction_365 submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 3 weeks agoPoetry Saved My Life
TracyCapturing the true essence of when
The love story began
I smile
Reminiscing on the rhymes
That made me laugh
Easy to create interesting patterns
Some so elementary
Yet so catchy
My words were my power
My emotions needed an outlet
My voice found a safe space
With each line
My love grew fonder
I felt more alive
Whenever I read my words
I was a bit surprised
A master in disguise
My pen was my secret weapon
The words I collectively gathered
Made me aware
That it wasn’t a mere coincidence
Once I started writing
I could never stop
Until I did for a brief period
When my mother passed away
I stumbled on a mental block
My passion had died
Until an angel came to rescue me
Reassuring me that I needed my own words
To revive me
My creativity had never left
I was lusting momentarily
But when my passion
Reminded me that the time was now
I knew that poetry was my true love
It definitely saved me!
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Tracy – it’s interesting to me whenever I discover how someone I’ve never laid eyes on has the potential to connect by experience. I too had a writers block for five years after my mother passed in 1991. I am rejoicing with you that your passion brought you back. Awesome work 👏🏽 👌🏾
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Thank you Sandrea 🤗 my condolences to you and your family on your loss 🫂 Not many people can relate but when someone does it makes my heart smile ‘cause I always hope that my words resonate with at least one person every time I write ✍🏾📝
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Tracy, I am so glad that you have revived your passion for poetry after your mother’s death. Though we sometimes lose that spark when we are grieving, it is important for us to find our way back as it has the power to comfort us. I hope that you continue writing as you are an inspiration! Thank you for sharing.
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Thank you so much Emmy for your kind words they are much appreciated 🤗 I will continue writing in hopes that by sharing I am also inspiring and motivating others to share their stories and experiences too!
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Your pen will always be your secret weapon and I’m so happy to know that your voice found a safe place . Your poems are your story and I’m so honored to read your story. Very heartfelt 💜
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Thank you for acknowledging the magic of my pen 🤗 I truly appreciate you and your kind words! Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading; it was my pleasure to share glad this poem resonated with you 🫶🏾
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khush submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 3 weeks agoOpen, Unclench, Hold
Khush AsifYou have always been here, haven’t you?
Soft, steady, waiting. Unnoticed but never absent.
You have known the weight of my body when I could not stand,
the nervous tug of sleeves over trembling fingers,
the hush of palms pressed against my chest,
as if you alone could keep my heart from breaking open.You have held so much.
Tearstained pillows, quiet apologies, the ghosts of things I should have let go.
You have traced the spines of books that felt safer than people,
curled around the warmth of a teacup on nights that felt too long.
You have built and unbuilt—art, letters, love—
each stroke, each press, a silent rebellion against the fear of being forgotten.And yet, I have not always been kind to you.
I have wrung you in worry, bitten you down to the bone,
clenched you into fists when all you wanted was to open.
I have blamed you for trembling,
when all you were trying to do was hold on.But you—oh, you.
You never left me.
Even when I abandoned myself,
you turned doorknobs, signed my name, reached for the light.
Even in stillness, you moved. Even in silence, you spoke.And here you are still,
writing these words,
building, reaching, proof that I have not stopped—
not really, not ever.So I promise:
I will be gentler with you.
I will unclench, I will open, I will trust.
I will let you rest when you need to and create when you are ready.You are not just my hands.
You are my history, my resilience,
the proof that I am still here.And that is enough. That has always been enough.
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Khush, this is a beautiful letter about a part of our bodies that are integral to our being but, like you said, often go unnoticed. Our hands hold lovers, protect children, craft masterpieces, and so much more. Even when our minds won’t allow us to be present, our hands are there working through the motions. Thank you for sharing this piece and…read more
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willj submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 3 weeks agoA Love Letter To Communication
William JosephMy Dearest Communication,
From the moment I entered the world, before I could even form a word, you were there. The cries of a newborn, in the touch of a mother’s hand, in the unspoken language of your eyes, you made your presence known. you are not just a tool, not just a method, we are nothing without you. You are the silent force that moves the world, the unseen thread that weaves humanity together.
I have loved you in ways, I cannot describe, yet everytime I try, I realize that even the attempt itself is an act of loving you. You are the reason I exist with purpose, the force that allowsme to takethoughts from the depths of my mind and place them into the hearts of others. You are not just a speech, not just words on a page, you are an action, emotion, existence itself.
Everything I do, everything anyone does, begins and ends with you. A handshake, a glance, a carefully crafted letter, all of it is your expression. Without you, silence is not peace; it is a void. Without you, progress is not possible. What is leadership without words? What is love without expression? What is existence if not the constant exchange of signals, gestures, and messages that define our very nature?
You are not bound by sound, nor by sight, nor by language. You live in the subtlety of a raised eyebrow, in the rhythm of music, inthe blinking lights of technology speaking to one another. Every wave to a friend, every story passed down through generations, every revolution that has ever begun with the words, “enough is enough”, all of it is you.
You are the unseen architect of civilization. Without you, there are no laws, no literature, no connection between minds.
Every invention that has ever changes the world, started with you. A scientist speakes to his ideas before he builds. A writer listens to his soul before he creates. A lover whispers before they embrace. Everything begins with you.
And that is why I love you. Not because you merely exist but because you are existence , itself. You are the greatest power we have ever known.
So, I dedicate my life to you. Not just as a speaker, a writer, a thinker, but as someone who understands that without you, I am nothing.
With All My Heart,
William Joseph
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William, communication truly is what makes the world go around. I love how you mentioned being a baby and communicating from the time you were born, even though words were unknown to you. So much of our communication comes is nonverbal, and really, I think we learn more from that than from other forms of communication. Thank you for sharing this…read more
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Emmy, your words truly resonate with me! It’s amazing how much of our communication happens beyond words—through gestures, expressions, and even silence. It’s a universal language that connects us from the moment we take our first breath. I love that my writing gave you something to reflect on, and I appreciate you taking the time to share your…read more
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