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  • Heather shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 2 months, 3 weeks ago

    Later Love From Me

    Here I thought you were “the one” with what was programmed from within.
    Walking life without you seemed so numb at the time.
    Breathing different air than you set for sleepless nights.
    I’m so glad you were not “the one.”
    My programs from within have switched from fantasy to reality.
    Walking life without you has defrosted in the most warmest ways.
    Breathing different air from you
    has given me better nights of sleep.
    The weighted blanket type of sleep.
    Here I thought you and I would be the forever type.
    Boy, was that such hype.
    I’m so glad forever was not for this flight.
    Here I thought I’d be together with you, the “love of my life.”
    Not knowing that love would be with me years after the blue.

    Heather

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    • Heather, I’m happy you decided to not settle for something that wasn’t right for you. I’m sure it was tough, but you got through it and now you know what you want and need in a person.

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  • A Letter to My Selves

    A letter to my childhood:
    You are so lucky.
    You’re smarter than even you know.
    You are so loved. 
    Hug your parents more.
    Hug your grandparents more.
    Hug everyone you love more. 
    Don’t take family for granted; you’ll miss them when they go.
    Know that you are safe, even when the words don’t always make you feel that way.
    Read everything; it makes you happy.
    Never stop learning.
    Don’t let mom cut your hair…

    A letter to my teens:
    You don’t have to look like everyone else; embrace your individuality.
    You shouldn’t cry just because you have a healthy human body.
    Love yourself, especially when it feels like no one else will. 
    Your voice matters, so keep writing; use it to get everything out.
    Someday someone will want to hear it.
    Keep reading; it still makes you happy.
    Cherish your childishness; hold it close for as long as you can.
    Don’t date the bad boy; even when he’s better, he still won’t be good for you. 
    I know it’s not just a phase, but sometimes it is.
    And didn’t we already say don’t let mom cut your hair?

    A letter to my 20s:
    Your body will never be the same; the accident made sure of that.
    But remember we said not to cry about being in a healthy human body 
    Why did you stop reading if it made you happy?
    It’s okay to like things he doesn’t; you don’t have to force yourself to fit him.
    Complacency is not contentment, and contentment is not joy.
    You are not stuck.
    You owe nothing to anyone.
    Letting go isn’t failure or weakness or selfishness.
    You don’t have to go back to something that doesn’t work just to make sure it still doesn’t work.
    And isn’t there anyone you can trust with your hair?!

    A letter to my 30s:
    Alcohol doesn’t make things fun after you wake up sober.
    Being single is hard, but dating is harder.
    You are not cut out for online dating.
    Passion can be fleeting, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.
    Remember, though, that butterflies are actually anxiety. 
    Excuses are not attractive.
    Young is dumb, and dumb is dangerous.
    Looking is not liking, and it most certainly is not love.
    You still shouldn’t date the bad boy. 
    You already know how to let go. 
    You’re an adult, and it’s time to figure out how to be one on your own.
    And, no, there’s no one you can trust with your hair.

    A letter to this past year:
    Therapy works.
    Just because your anxiety was right before doesn’t mean it always is.
    Peace is paradise, not boredom. 
    Stillness and solitude are the sacred foundations for your creativity.
    Travel is more than just a temporary escape from life.
    You are a professional, and you deserve to take up qualified space.
    You can write.
    You can share.
    You can be part of a safe community.
    You can learn to build a better life outside of what you’ve always known.
    Live at your own pace.
    Move your body in ways that make you smile.
    Enjoy your food, and let it nourish you, too.
    Learn to trust and love again; he’s worth it.
    And bless all that is holy because we finally found someone who knows what to do with your hair!

    A letter to the future:
    Progress isn’t linear. 
    You’re still lucky.
    You’re still loved.
    You’re still smarter than you know.
    You’re never stuck.
    Love others hard.
    Love yourself harder.
    Love the life you intentionally create.
    It’s always okay to explore new ways.
    It’s always okay to have a voice.
    It’s always okay to let go.
    Keep reading.
    Keep writing.
    Keep sharing.
    Keep learning. 
    And someday you’ll finally figure out how to do your own hair.

    (100% Style Score)

    Chanel M.

    Voting starts July 2, 2025 12:00am

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    • Chanel, I LOVE this!! You have learned a lot throughout your life. Understandably, you would want to change some things, but I’m glad that you recognize that you wouldn’t be the same person without living and learning all of these lessons! You wouldn’t know not to trust your mom with your hair if she hadn’t messed it up in the first place (LOL!!).…read more

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  • If I Warned Me

    If I Warned Me
    If I warn of heartbreak
    What risks will I take?
    If I warn of vulnerability,
    I’ll then conceal what others see.
    If I warn of uncertainty,
    Will I, too timid, ever be?
    I’ll choose to live in mystery
    Betwixt the fiery sparks that flee
    In the rhythm of life’s spontaneity
    Sans warnings from the likes of me

    100%

    Lorinda Boyer

    Voting starts July 2, 2025 12:00am

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  • A love letter to my evolution

    Dear New & Improved Me,

    As I take a moment to reflect on our journey, I feel compelled to share my thoughts and wisdom from the version of me that once was. Though I may feel distant, I am very much a part of who you are today.

    First, let me commend you. You’ve shown remarkable courage in shedding self-doubt and the weight of others’ expectations. I remember when we hesitated to speak our truth, fearing disappointment. But look at you now embracing authenticity and pursuing passions that once seemed unreachable! Nurture that brave spirit; it’s one of your greatest treasures.

    Remember the importance of self-compassion. We were our harshest critics, plagued by negative thoughts like storm clouds. But you’ve learned to transform those inner dialogues into supportive conversations. Keep that up! When you stumble, treat yourself with the kindness you would offer a dear friend. You deserve that love.

    Don’t forget the power of connection. I see how you’ve built a network of friends and mentors who uplift and inspire you. Cherish these relationships as they are mirrors reflecting your growth. Continue to nurture these connections as they will guide you through life’s inevitable challenges.

    Embrace your fears, new me. Don’t shy away from them. They are not your enemies but signposts pointing you toward growth. Each time you step outside your comfort zone, you expand your possibilities. Remember that exhilarating moment when you conquered a fear? Keep chasing those feelings!

    Stay curious! The old me often felt stagnant and trapped in routines and cycles. Now, I see you seeking new experiences and learning with an open heart. This curiosity fuels your creativity and keeps your spirit vibrant. Never let that flame dim; explore new interests, read voraciously, and embrace the unknown.

    Lastly, remain grounded in gratitude. It’s easy to get swept away in the pursuit of more and forget the gifts of the present. Reflect daily on what you appreciate, no matter how small. This practice will anchor you through storms and remind you of the beauty that surrounds you.

    As you move forward, know it’s okay to evolve. The journey may twist and turn, and uncertainty will arise. Trust your ability to navigate life’s complexities you possess an inner strength that can weather any storm!

    In closing, I want you to know how proud I am of you. You are a testament to growth, resilience, and the power of self-love. Carry the lessons of the past but don’t let them define you. The future is bright, and I can’t wait to see how you continue to shine.

    With all my love,
    Your old self

    Breanna M Perez

    Voting starts July 2, 2025 12:00am

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    • Breanna, this is such a powerful piece! It’s a great reminder to me that my past self isn’t someone to be forgotten. It will always be a part of me, whether I like it or not. The only logical thing to do is to accept yourself and move on with your life, becoming the best version of you possible! Thanks for inspiring me! ♥

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  • Dear Old Self

    My dear,

    You had everything figured out. Or rather, in your time, you have everything figured out. I mustn’t envy you for it. I made my decision now. I made my decision proud – to be who I want to be with little to no direction. A poet with spare change. It’s not enough to buy a coffee, but my tongue flickers at the thought of this manifestation.
    Darling, you scrape every corner for change to buy your cat some food and yourself a can of spaghetti. You pour yourself a glass of wine and give thanks for what you have. You can make and buy yourself a coffee, and you’re holding down a corporate 9-5. Nothing is uncertain for you. Nothing but your relationships is uncertain for you. Nothing but your next meal may seem uncertain for you, but you know you’ll head to the corner store tomorrow for a snack or two.
    I can be nothing but proud of you. I am proud of your growth, and I know that you are, too. You say it almost every day. You should be most proud to say that you will not move on without grace. Before you leave this apartment, you’ll thank every corner of it for your stay. Then, you’ll move on to another and create memories that you didn’t expect to create.
    Darling, this time especially is uncertain. I almost wish I could warn you of it. Our corporate 9-5 is no longer ours. Honestly, it never was. The life that we are manifesting is creating destruction. Yes, this time is uncertain. Ironically, it brings happiness and rebellion, and with this you are creating abundance without knowing. At least, that’s what you’re being told.
    Messages are delivered to you through symbolism. Although confusing, your intuition translates the message for you. It says, “ This change is more intimidating than the first, but this incoming blessing will show you what it’s worth.”

    Lovingly,
    Your Future Self

    59% Style Score

    Naiya Figueroa

    Voting starts July 2, 2025 12:00am

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    • Naiya, thank you so much for sharing this! Trusting your intuition and believing in yourself are extremely impactful stepping stones for success. I’m so glad that you have accepted your past and that you’re ready to overcome any challenges that come your way! Great work ☻

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  • updated software

    Lately I have been practicing meditation, Namaste

    The new me wants to take over the stubborn old me is like no Ima stay

    It is a constant battle of will, will I or won’t I change

    The new way of thinking and doing things still has me afraid

    But the old way of doing things would always be a destructive path

    I wanted a way out, and I found it finally

    Well, I am not there yet. It is an ongoing thing.

    Never was i expressive emotional. I would let things spill over.

    Bottling up feelings of anger, resentment and not allowing anyone to

    Not even me, even with a key I would deny entry

    I need to heal

    I needed to feel but for the longest I was numb to it all

    Now I feel it all. I am working on the challenge of balance

    I am proud of who I was and who I am now because even at my worst,

    I still knew ill be here somehow

    Not allowing the past to define me, but more so to inspire me

    Showing me who I should and should not be

    I saw the spot of hope even in my darkest times

    With support from my family telling me everything is going to be fine

    Loving the inner child in me and telling him it’s going to be alright

    I love you, Isaac

    I love myself too

    Isaac is me

    Voting starts July 2, 2025 12:00am

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    • Isaac, I enjoyed this perspective. Self-love is difficult, and change is even harder! It is tough when you know you want to change, but something is holding you back that you can’t even explain or even begin to stop. I’m glad you are beginning to recognize how awesome you truly are. The Unsealed is always here for you during your self-love…read more

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  • Sincerely, the younger, old me

    How can an old me exist in the past?
    Or does this prompt require me to fast
    Forward
    A message in a bottle from my sequel
    Versions of “I” and “me” deemed unequal
    Jagged glass, tossed about the sea, deemed polished
    An unavoidable trajectory praised or admonished
    Am I ever new, if perpetually used?
    If the old us is younger, are we not confused?
    Bemused
    The past and future writing in the present tense.
    Therefore I choose, to write from the end. Stanzas stacked, likely not to comprehend
    (Lest you choose to read from the end to here. Or both, for you have free will, my dear)

    Your dear friend
    The older, new me, most sincere
    I’m typing it early, for this hemisphere
    I hope this doesn’t reach you too late
    The last we spoke, “is not” wasn’t “ain’t”
    Do you still like to paint?
    An emotional state of inclusivity
    Your interpersonal, personality
    An ephemeral state of relativity
    Will be
    The small that you were, and you are, and
    Or plummeting down hill
    From slowly ascending
    Glad to see you still find a thrill
    Lie
    Yet the imagery of a heart, is a symmetrical
    The muscular breakdown of a thigh
    Similarly, the tension of a bicep
    Our chest
    Inside
    How strange to know what a heart looks like
    Stare
    You’ve observed, despite being told not to tear
    You’ve stretched knowing that you could
    Omnipotence
    Accepting a life in pursuit of infinite
    Ignorance
    My how you’ve found bliss, devoid of
    Good evening, self

    Stella Armani

    Voting starts July 2, 2025 12:00am

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    • Stella, what a beautiful piece. I really enjoyed your reminders that your identity doesn’t always remain the same. You are forever changing, and that’s okay! Each new experience is going to teach us a lesson that hopefully shapes us into better people. Thanks for inspiring me!

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  • Heather shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 2 months, 3 weeks ago

    Possibilities

    Maybe one day we meet back up.
    May it be in a store buying that day’s outfit for a night out.
    May it be at a local park catching Mama Nature’s beautiful sunrays.
    May it be at a red light on our way to what consist of our busy lives.
    Maybe. Just maybe, one day we will meet up and when we do, it’s as if nothing was new.
    It was just as we left it.

    Heather

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  • Stand tall

    I have thought and thought about the old me , and honestly no matter how long I think or think of the old version, there’s no old version.I have watched myself and the younger me, and through it all, I have always faced obstacles and have always had to overcome from graduating early in school to your mechanic career, the younger me would say YEP you just got older but your drive GOT STRONGER, you never quit and at times Maybe you should have.You helped your family and Never backed down.GREAT JOB,IM PROUD of you.So in finishing, DON’T CHANGE, IM PROUD OF YOU

    leroybragg

    Voting starts July 2, 2025 12:00am

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    • Leroy, this is so sweet! I’m so happy that you have little regret regarding your determination in the past. A lot of people wish they had done more, but hearing someone who is content with who they were is a nice breath of fresh air. Thank you for sharing ☻

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  • Titus Armon shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 2 months, 3 weeks ago

    Hey Girl

    Hey Girl
    What’s Your Name
    I See You Looking
    What’s On Your Mind
    I Like The Way You Think
    Show Me More About You
    Paint Me A Picture
    I’m Here
    Wondering
    Waiting
    Listening

    Seemingly Beautiful
    But I Don’t Know
    Tell Me Your Favorite Song
    Do You Go Out
    Or Stay In And Read
    I’m A Writer
    In Need Of A Friend
    You’re Patient
    And I am
    You’ve Noticed Me For Days
    I’ve Noticed Too
    I Wanna Shake Your Hand
    It Looks Soft
    How Do I Say
    We Could Get Lifted
    No Intentions
    Just What’s Missing

    What Do You Say

    Titus Armon

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  • Martha Moore shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 2 months, 4 weeks ago

    Marco?

    Where has my light gone
    That used to twinkle in my eyes?
    I feel like I don’t belong
    In this body I call mine
    I don’t know who I am anymore
    Not even a single clue
    Maybe I don’t know who I was before
    It’s hard to know what’s true
    Have I lost myself somehow?
    Gone without a trace
    Or was I never found
    A vessel without a face

    Martha Moore

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  • mrmann submitted a contest entry to Group logo of What would the old version of you say to the new version of you?What would the old version or you say to the new version of you? 2 months, 4 weeks ago

    This post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.

    embrace the spark.

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  • Do you remember me?

    Do you remember me?
    The girl you used to be, before, well… Everything I guess. I know you have blocked me out, and in a way I guess I don’t blame you, but from time to time I wish you would think about me.
    Do you remember me?
    I am quiet, kind, and spend a lot of time on my own. I wish you remembered that it’s not a bad thing to be alone. Not all company is good company, and if you aren’t content in your own presence, then why would you expect anyone else to be? I understand that your mind is a frightening place these days, but maybe running from the memories is part of what is making you hold onto them.
    Do you remember me?
    I am the girl that used to cry when I got in trouble, and I have an obsession with Barbie dolls. I wish you remembered how much I love to take care of them. You did the same thing with your daughters when you had them, and it would be better for them and you if you hadn’t worried so much about throwing your middle finger in the air at everyone for what they said about you as a mom as soon as you got a taste of rebellion and a bad attitude, and instead focused more on how you actually were as one. You really only proved them right in the end. For a while anyway.
    Do you remember me?
    I am dorky I guess. I go to plays with my Grandma, and play dress up with my cousins. Girls night with my friends are what I look forward to often. You wouldn’t know what that’s like anymore. You avoid Grandma because her dementia is getting worse and you know it’ll hurt less if you don’t see her much before she goes. Plus you couldn’t bear to see Papa like that. Nevermind the fact that family is probably the only thing holding him together. And girl friends? What the hell are those? You’ve given those up and replaced them with men. I wish you could spend a night with your best friend, sipping “happy tea,” and watching Anchorman, laughing so hard you cried. You might recall what it feels like to have a real kinship with someone that you don’t share a bed with.
    Do you remember me?
    I harbor innocence and imagination. The thought of even kissing the person that I like is enough to send shivers up my spine. I wish you would have slowed down in that area. I get it that things happened to you that made you bitter, scared, and angry. You didn’t have to be so easy though. No one will respect you if you don’t respect yourself. You aren’t a sex icon. You’re horny because you do drugs, and you became a hooker because you were poor and sick of living on the street. Just because you made a lot of money, it doesn’t restore your dignity.
    Do you remember me?
    I’m gentle and forgiving. Which is why even though I don’t understand what you’ve done, I still will forgive you. Someday. You’ve come this far, and you haven’t given up, so you should be proud of that. The world has become an ugly and evil place I guess, especially in the life you got wrapped up in.
    I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I rushed you, and I’m sorry that I didn’t teach you to love yourself better. You may not have ended up in such a predicament. What do I know, though? I’m just a kid, and I’m only going off of the examples that have been set for me. It’s really crazy how we adopt the same behaviors that make us cringe when we are young. Anyway, I’m sorry that I didn’t give you the confidence in yourself to combat what was said about you with the girls, and I’m sorry that the me inside of you made you cower down when it came time to fight for them. It’s not over yet, and you have made a ton of strides in the right direction, but please, please remember. That everything you have worked so hard to build can be ripped away from you just as fast, if not faster. Don’t lose focus. And one last thing…. Don’t forget where you came from. Every now and again, if you could, just please try and think of me.

    Style Score: 91%

    Kendy Bendewald

    Voting starts July 2, 2025 12:00am

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    • Kendra, thank you for sharing such a deep and honest part of your life. Remember that your childhood (the good and bad parts) is always going to be a part of you. You wouldn’t be the same without it! I hope that you continue to find yourself in your journey, and I hope that you embrace your childhood piece by piece. ☻

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  • The Nameless Verse shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 3 months ago

    Anxiety

    I wake up with pressure where peace should be.
    Tight chest, cold hands—
    like my body’s got bad news it won’t share with me.
    I open my eyes, but the war’s already started.
    No trigger, no trauma—just wired and guarded.

    People say “you’re good, just breathe,”
    like lungs are the problem.
    Like air ever fixed the kind of drowning I do in silence.
    I’m not sad.
    I’m not mad.
    I’m just… off.
    And nobody sees it when the switch flips soft.

    I laugh on cue.
    I answer, “I’m fine.”
    But inside, I’m pacing the edge of a line
    I can’t name.
    I can’t cross.
    I can’t leave behind.

    You ever feel scared for no reason at all?
    Like your bones remember something you don’t recall?
    Like you’re the only one in a room full of light
    who’s being followed by shadows no one else fights?

    It’s not drama.
    It’s not weak.
    It’s a weight you carry in your teeth—
    locked jaw, clenched fists, fake calm.
    A panic that wears your face and moves on.

    Some nights I just stare at the ceiling,
    trying to outrun a thought I’m not even feeling.
    I pray for stillness but get static instead—
    a quiet so loud it screams in my head.

    This ain’t for pity. This ain’t for show.
    This is survival. This is let go or blow.
    This is for every heartbeat I had to fake.
    Every smile I stitched for everyone’s sake.

    So if I ever seem distant, short, or strange—
    I’m not cold.
    I’m in chains.
    Fighting to breathe in a body that blames
    me
    for the storm I didn’t choose,
    for a mind that tightens every fuse.

    Anxiety don’t knock. It just breaks in.
    Puts its feet up and asks how I’ve been.
    So I tell it—
    “You again?”
    It smiles.
    “Yeah. You know I live in your skin.”

    Kristopher Haeberlin

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  • The Nameless Verse shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 3 months ago

    Falkland’s Law

    We are taught to choose,
    as if indecision is death—
    as if silence is weakness,
    and hesitation, sin.
    But truth isn’t always loud.
    And power
    isn’t always movement.

    There are moments
    when the greatest strength
    is doing nothing.
    Not out of fear,
    but out of wisdom.
    Because not every door needs opening.
    Not every question needs an answer.
    Not every fire deserves your water.

    Sometimes, the chaos wants your reaction.
    It feeds on your urgency.
    It tricks you into thinking
    that action alone
    equals progress.
    But no—
    discernment is the throne.
    Restraint is the crown.

    The strongest ones don’t always strike.
    They observe.
    They wait.
    They listen to the wind
    before choosing where to plant their flag.
    They watch the pieces move
    before touching the board.

    There is courage in stillness.
    There is defiance in the pause.
    Because when you don’t have to decide,
    you reclaim the power of timing.
    You allow truth to mature,
    emotion to settle,
    and consequences to reveal themselves.

    Some storms burn out
    without a single match lifted.
    Some lies unspool
    without confrontation.
    And some choices solve themselves
    when you give them the mercy of silence.

    You are not passive.
    You are precise.
    You are the calm in a world of reaction.
    You are the breath
    before the leap.
    And the space
    between rage and regret.

    So if the moment does not demand a decision,
    then don’t offer one.
    Let life unfold
    without your forced grip.
    Let wisdom be the silence
    between questions
    you never needed to ask.

    Kristopher Haeberlin

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  • The Nameless Verse shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 3 months ago

    Wilson's Law

    They counted coins.
    You counted questions.
    They chased profit like prey—
    you chased truth like prophecy.
    And though the world didn’t notice at first,
    you knew:
    fortune follows those who feed the mind
    before the hand.

    While others raced the clock
    trying to beat the system,
    you were building one.
    One forged in quiet corners,
    long nights,
    books full of dust and diamonds.
    You didn’t hunger for the gold.
    You hungered for the why.

    And with each answer,
    you laid bricks beneath your future
    while they played hopscotch on sand.
    Because money is a moment.
    But knowledge—
    knowledge is momentum.
    A force that compounds
    in silence
    until the noise can’t ignore it.

    You didn’t flaunt degrees.
    You wore humility
    like armor.
    You didn’t scream credentials.
    You let your results do the whispering.
    And soon enough,
    the same world that dismissed your hunger
    became ravenous for your insights.

    Money came.
    Quietly, respectfully.
    Like a servant to its master.
    Because when the mind is rich,
    the rest must follow.
    The paycheck finds the problem-solver.
    The opportunities find the thinker.
    The throne finds the visionary
    who spent years building it
    in solitude.

    So study more.
    Ask better questions.
    Break what you know
    and build it wiser.
    Because intellect is the only currency
    that survives every crash.

    They may buy the room,
    but you built the foundation.
    And in the end,
    those who seek wisdom
    are the ones who rule.

    Kristopher Haeberlin

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  • The Nameless Verse shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 3 months ago

    Gilbert’s Law

    No one is coming to tell you how.
    No divine instruction manual.
    No whispered secret from the wind.
    You are the blueprint.
    The task is the test.
    And excellence—
    that quiet, burning force within—
    is not suggested. It’s required.

    You weren’t given this burden to fumble it.
    You weren’t chosen to coast.
    You were meant to craft.
    To carve the best possible path
    from raw stone and stubborn will.

    Others may shrug,
    do the bare minimum,
    pray for luck or blame the sky.
    But you—
    you shoulder the weight with intention.
    Because if it must be done,
    let it be done with honor.
    Let it be a testament.

    There are a thousand ways
    to do something halfway.
    But only one to make it yours—
    to wear the result like a crest
    on your chest,
    knowing no one else
    could’ve walked that road
    with the same fire in their stride.

    Responsibility isn’t a chain.
    It’s a sword.
    And those who fear it,
    never rise.
    But those who wield it—
    they shape legacies.

    You don’t just take the task.
    You take ownership of its destiny.
    You ask, “How can I make this better?”
    Even when it’s good.
    Especially when it’s good.
    Because mastery doesn’t settle.
    It refines. It reimagines. It reinvents.

    And every moment you treat effort
    as sacred,
    you are building something eternal.
    Not just a finished job,
    but a symbol of your integrity.
    A reminder that greatness
    isn’t about the glory—
    it’s about the grit.

    So take the task.
    Not lightly.
    But boldly.
    Find the best way forward,
    even if no one else does.
    Especially then.

    Because to complete the mission
    is survival.
    But to elevate it—
    to perfect it—
    that is legacy.

    Kristopher Haeberlin

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  • The Nameless Verse shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 3 months ago

    Kindlin's Law

    Chaos has a language. It speaks in scattered thoughts,
    racing heartbeats, and dreams that unravel by morning.
    You feel it before you name it—
    a weight behind the eyes,
    a knot where clarity should be.
    But the moment you pick up the pen,
    something ancient stirs.
    A primal magic in ink,
    the kind that bridges storm to stillness.

    You write the mess.
    You spell out the wound.
    You stop pretending the fire is manageable
    and you draw the flames with honest hands.
    Suddenly, you see it.
    It has a name. A shape. A boundary.
    What once was an unknowable shadow
    becomes a charted storm—
    still fierce, but no longer infinite.

    You were not falling apart.
    You were simply too full.
    And the act of writing—
    it is how you make space again.
    Each sentence is a blade.
    Every period, a pause to breathe.
    You dissect the chaos
    not to kill it,
    but to understand it.

    A problem on paper is no longer the beast in your brain.
    It is half-tamed—
    a creature seen and labeled.
    And that is no small victory.
    That is how healing begins.

    When you make the intangible visible,
    you strip it of its tyranny.
    And what was once unspeakable
    becomes a line in your story—
    one you now control.

    Do not underestimate the miracle
    of seeing yourself on the page.
    You are not broken,
    just burdened.
    And in the light of your own truth,
    the darkness begins to lose its grip.

    So write.
    Not because it solves everything,
    but because it solves something.
    Enough to move. Enough to breathe.
    Enough to remember:
    You are not what you carry.
    You are the one who names it,
    faces it,
    and lets it go.

    Kristopher Haeberlin

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  • The Nameless Verse shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 3 months ago

    Murphy's Law

    The fear begins as a whisper—soft, almost kind.
    A flicker in the shadows of thought,
    a ghost of what could go wrong.
    But you look. You listen. You feed it.
    And fear, once invited, grows fangs.
    You cradle catastrophe in your mind
    until it sleeps beside your dreams
    and wakes before your coffee.

    The more you dread,
    the more it becomes a self-fulfilling spell,
    cast by trembling hands
    and minds too haunted to see
    that the thing we run from
    is often drawn closer
    by the thundering echo of our retreat.

    You feared they’d leave—
    so your anxious questions pushed them to the door.
    You feared the fall—
    and in bracing, you slipped.
    You feared silence—
    and your panic spoke loud enough to echo.

    The universe listens not with judgment,
    but with obedience.
    And it moves
    in the direction of your gaze.

    Fear is a script you recite so often
    that life begins to follow its stage directions.
    It becomes the blueprint of breakdowns.
    And once you expect disaster,
    you live rehearsing it—
    repeating lines that summon storms,
    as if rain was your destiny.

    But it’s not.

    You are not cursed.
    You are not doomed.
    You are simply powerful—
    and that power bends to belief.
    So shift it.
    Breathe life into faith, not fear.
    Envision calm, not collapse.
    See love arriving, not leaving.
    See doors opening instead of locking.

    Because when you choose to feed hope
    with the same hunger you once gave anxiety,
    the world responds.
    The winds turn.
    And suddenly, the monsters
    become mist.
    The worst-case no longer rules your mind.
    And the life you feared
    stops knocking
    because you finally stopped answering.

    Fear only wins
    when you crown it king.

    Kristopher Haeberlin

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  • The Nameless Verse shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 3 months ago

    The Weight of Light

    They told me I was born of stardust—
    a soft echo spun from cosmic ash,
    but no one warned me that even stardust
    can be stepped on, swept up,
    or forgotten beneath someone’s shoes.

    I’ve been trying to shine in places
    that worship shadows.
    Kissed wounds into people who only
    brought me their swords.
    Let my chest be an altar for the broken,
    but no one stayed long enough to pray.
    Still, I gave—
    my time, my truth, my trembling hands—
    as if love were currency
    and I could pay off loneliness
    with interest.

    But I am not debt.
    I am not what they abandoned.
    I am the sunrise stubborn enough
    to come back every morning,
    even when the world sleeps through my arrival.
    I am the quiet resilience of oceans
    pulling tides into rhythm
    with a moon that never speaks.

    I’ve learned the universe doesn’t apologize
    for burning stars into oblivion—
    it just makes room for new constellations.
    And maybe I’m not meant to be
    understood by everyone.
    Maybe I’m here
    to remind the forgotten
    that they were never invisible.

    So if you are reading this—
    gripping your soul in clenched fists,
    carrying the kind of grief
    that leaks when no one’s watching—
    know this:

    You are not the wound.
    You are the healing.
    You are not lost.
    You are the map someone else needs.
    You are not too much.
    You are the weight of light—
    and that’s why they couldn’t hold you.

    Kristopher Haeberlin

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