A mother who can't let go is a mother who robs her child of the external experiences in life shaping, growing all the while
By Lolly Vieira10 months ago in Poets
Where Almost Becomes Making On turning unfinished paths into honest creation. Almost is not the opposite of lived. It is the edge of it.
By Flower InBloom10 months ago in Poets
What If, Rewritten On forgiveness, imagination, and the courage to leave questions open What if is not a wound. It’s a sketchbook.
The Grammar of Almost On the lives we carry without owing them completion. I speak fluently in could haves, would haves,
I used to think strength was loud doors slammed, voices raised, a victory speech with fireworks and somebody crying in the background.
By Milan Milic10 months ago in Poets
Taffy was a coal miner, dedicated to the pit He worked from being ten years old He loved his job and never once regretted it
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 10 months ago in Poets
Bright sun shines on roses not for me. Love's blooming everywhere around me. Everything's beautiful. Still not mine.
By Tina D. Lopez10 months ago in Poets
This inspirational piece came to mind when I remembered how my dad had danced on a street corner in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, N.Y. with me when I was only two as we waited for my mom to come up the block from the subway after work.
By Rasma Raisters10 months ago in Poets
I am growing older day by day Hair that was brown is now so Grey I was full of energy wild and free Now I am so tired, what happened to me
When I Drift on remembering the anchor without blame When I drift, it is not failure. It is information. Something in me followed a signal—
Anchoring on staying without hardening I am not held here by weight, but by willingness. By the quiet agreement to remain
The Practice I Didn’t Choose It Chose Me I don’t chase clarity anymore. If it wants me, it knows where I am. I don’t hurry insight.
