You don’t need to speak before the echoes roll in here. You don’t have to get drenched to know the raindrops are beating your skin Here, there is more to wind than the dust in eyes and falling trees. This one is a quiet storm. It’s on the inside. You feel everything. You know everything. And when the storm passes, and the turmoil ends, You don’t search for what the storm took away. You recover it all. #storms #survival #blogger #blogging #blog #poetry #poet #poem #emotions
If my body were a museum of feelings and I let you in, you just might see what I want you to see. if you asked about it, you’ll not get the real picture either. If you let yourself in, you may lose yourself in its walls But once you’re inside, here’s what you’ll find: Worry. Anxiety. Confusion. Fear. They should be the first things you’ll see. Worry has littered every street of my mind, And I’m oblivious to when and where it comes from. It’s just always been there. Anxiety ha
Tell me what you see when you see me.
Do you see what you want to see?
Or do you see what is?
Look long and hard beyond the veil.
What you see is neither shadow nor reflection.
It’s alien to me.
It’s your misconstrued image of me.
It’s something I wish I could be
I see a lot when I look in the mirror:
potential. possibility. pain.
The pain of my past; indelible marks it left behind
The potential of this soul to rise above that pain
And the possibility of making so