myvoice: (Default)
And I wonder, right now, who's out there.
Who is out there gazing at the stars?
Who is out their reflecting on their own souls?
Who is comparing the waves of the ocean to their emotions and their lives,
realizing that these waves that seem so large and powerful are but ripples in the vastness of the ocean?
Who are the dreamers, awake in their beds, lost in the power of their potential and their starving desire to make change?
Who are the wanderers, peaceful in the silent awe of the beauty of the world around them?
Who are the ones who share these pieces of my own heart, my own mind, my own soul?
Who are you?
myvoice: (Default)
We are like two flowers
Growing from a crack
In the concrete
Rising above the adversity
Of crushing feet
That tear apart our petals
Like fists
Upon our faces
Above the pollution of the city
That poisons our stems
Like cruel words
That poison our dreams
Where so many others
Gave in to the pain
We kept growing
We will never give up
We will never give in
We are too beautiful
To be destroyed
Too pure
To be stained
We are gentle fighters
myvoice: (Default)
Please convince me
I want to believe so badly
That everything will work out
That the world can be kind
That I can trust you
That true love exists
That forever means something
That unconditional is possible
That I’ll get my happily ever after
I want to believe so badly
Please convince me

Poor Rose

Feb. 21st, 2014 08:32 am
myvoice: (Default)
You are like a rose with a hundred thorns and ever-wilting petals. You could be so beautiful if only you would allow someone to tend to you - to love you. But the moment a gentle hands comes to caress you, you cut them. Poor rose, you will never know love.
myvoice: (Default)
How can I explain how I feel
When I don’t
Understand it myself?
Emotions
Like tidal waves -
I’m drowning in myself!
I give and give
Every piece I have of me
And the world swallows me whole.
I am pushed
And torn
And beaten to the Earth.
But it is there
That I ground myself
And find my soul.
“Hold on,”
It whispers gently.
“We’re not done yet.”
And I rise again.

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Jordyn Mart

February 2017

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