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Write a free verse reflection poem about a core memory.

A “core memory” (a phrase popularized in part by the 2015 movie Inside Out) is a significant moment or experience that stays with you and shapes you in some way. Core memories often connect to strong emotions — joy, fear, love, embarrassment, pride, belonging — and become experiences you can recall clearly even years later. They might be impactful conversations, milestones, turning points, once-in-a-lifetime adventures, difficult truths, important relationships, “firsts,” flashes of clarity, or life lessons.

Here is my poem:

The Tears that Shaped Me

The hallway glowed a bright yellow.
It was dark outside,
and I carried a faint excitement
that maybe it would be a good night for me.

My long dress — my favorite color — that exact shade of sky blue you see at noon on a cloudless June day with a soft, warm breeze.

Only then did I realize
I had no idea how to move in this space, how to belong here.

I walked into the lunchroom,
strange and unfamiliar in its new arrangement.
I missed my mom the moment she slipped away, leaving as quickly as she arrived.

Two hours, then three.
I watched, a puzzle piece that didn’t fit, a quiet spectator taking notes, seeing everything through a microscope.

I wasn’t “picked” that night.
Invisible.

A dance — a tiny stamp of approval — was nowhere for me.
This chapter of my life ended right then, ushering in a transition I didn’t ask for.

Was I even there?
Did it even happen?

Tears soaked the dress
until it became its own rainy day.
My chest tightened.
Regret and sadness painted my heart in black, burgundy, and navy blue. The sunny June afternoon turned into a December midnight storm —
cold and unwelcoming.

The unchosen.
A title I still carry,
a backpack glued to my shoulders.

Share yours below. 📜

#MightyPoets #Journaling #CheckInWithMe #MentalHealth #Depression #Anxiety #Disability #ChronicIllness #RareDisease #ChronicPain

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Beautiful Rain

Don’t be embarrassed by your tears. They are the beautiful rain that washes you clean. 💧💧💧

Original piece by @meaustin91

#Poetry #writer #heal #healing #healyourself #Selflove #Depression #MentalHealth #Anxiety #MightyPoets

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Colorless

I see colors dying in a torrent of rain

Fine threads of ink through the droplets, dissipating

A wash barely tinting the charcoal grey

My world is muted, faded away

Do not tell me to witness the colors

of the newly risen sun

I cannot see them

It did not rise for everyone.

The rain scatters my sight into a pale mosaic

No peace to be found in a vision battered and breaking

Do you understand why I must look away?

No bright hope, just colorless waste.

#Depression #Suicide #Trauma #PTSD #MentalHealth #MightyPoets #Disability

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Colorless

I see colors dying in a torrent of rain

Fine threads of ink through the droplets, dissipating

A wash barely tinting the charcoal grey

My world is muted, faded away

Do not tell me to witness the colors

of the newly risen sun

I cannot see them

It did not rise for everyone.

The rain scatters my sight into a pale mosaic

No peace to be found in a vision battered and breaking

Do you understand why I must look away?

No bright hope, just colorless waste.

#Depression #Suicide #Trauma #PTSD #MentalHealth #MightyPoets #Disability

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For What Words Are Worth

I never wanted to be the loudest mind in a quiet room. It just kept happening — truth slipping out like breath, not prophecy... and people watched as if revelation were some secret I was chosen to carry, when really, I’ve just grown tired of pretending the obvious is complicated. There is a strange punishment in clarity: the clearer I speak, the more they insist it must be wisdom. They praise what they cannot imitate — not realizing I never meant to teach, only to meet... and I pay for it in solitude; I do not seek pedestals — as pedestals are prisons disguised as altars.

the truth leaves my mouth

the quiet room now stares back

just lost, not profound

Sometimes I wonder: if someone else finally said what I see so clearly, would I feel relief or wounded, as if deprived of my special individuality? Or would it maybe just feel like peace in the resound — proof that I am not the last of my kind in this quiet world full of loud people who say nothing.

empty lecture hall

my words still echo louder

than the mere applause

​​​​​​​There’s a particular kind of loneliness reserved for the ones who think in layers... for those who speak in truths before others manage metaphors. They call it depth, but it feels more like exile. A mind sharpened by solitude learns too early that brilliance is not applause — it’s the ache of standing where no one else stands yet. I wanted company — not a crown.

pedestal is glass

they see the light, not the height

I long for flat ground

On World Poetry Day, they celebrate voices like mine — voices that bleed neat and beautiful on paper. They see the poem, but not the person whispering lines into a void that rarely whispers back. They say poets change the world, but I know the truth: poets survive it. We do not write because we wish to be revered— we write because silence feels like drowning. Some search for fame — I search for reflection. The rare soul who arrives not to admire or follow — but to answer... someone whose silence carries thought, and whose voice arrives not as an emulation, but presence.

late revelations

I write to not disappear,

not to be profound

Poets do not break by screaming; poets break by going quiet. Until then, I keep writing — not for the audience, but for the possibility... and if no one arrives to speak in my cadence, I will not dim my voice... I'm not sure if I even know how. I will build a language they must learn or lose; not chosen — just unwilling to disappear.

the dialogue fades

only sequins and applause

I wait for the thought

#MightyPoets

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Sweet Release by Melanie R.

Sweet Release by Melanie R.

Let every voice of fear be silenced!

Let every anxious feeling be shut down;
and every dark thought that said you are broken, …or forgotten,
be CRUSHED under this Sweet Release!

The past is healed,
and the future is declared righteous!

Omnipotence pour over your spirit and be released!

Sweet release!
Thank You Jesus!

Moving mountains!
I’m free!
Sweet release!

Your future is in God’s Hands;
It’s unshakable!!
Nothing on this earth can come against you.
Miracles happen to this day!

Have faith!
Sweet release!

We ask Mighty God of Heaven to shake your spirit free!

Be free!
In Jesus’ name!

Be released!
Have faith!

Ooh sweet release!
Nothing’s impossible with The One and only True God!

Matthew 17:20
“Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, Move from here to there, and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you!”

#ChronicIllness #Dysautonomia #MitochondrialDisease #PrimaryImmunodeficiency #PosturalOrthostaticTachycardiaSyndrome #RareDisease #ChronicInflammatoryDemyelinatingPolyneuropathy #InsideTheMighty #MightyPoets #MightyTogether #CheckInWithMe #ChronicPain

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Destiny’s Door by Melanie R.

Destiny’s Door by Melanie R.

Ignite your spirit!
The final stretch is so close-

Feel divine fulfillment.
Holy Spirit, Holy Host.

What God has released is unstoppable! Sudden glory!
We are almost there!
Inches away from destiny’s door.
Surrender.
Endure.

Our life Authored by Heaven.
Positioned…aligned.

Refined vessels carry refined messages!
Elevated.
Silence doubt-
Reject fear!!

Activate divine movement!
Closer than you know.
Stay ready!

#ChronicIllness #Dysautonomia #MitochondrialDisease #PrimaryImmunodeficiency #PosturalOrthostaticTachycardiaSyndrome #RareDisease #ChronicInflammatoryDemyelinatingPolyneuropathy #InsideTheMighty #MightyPoets #MightyTogether #CheckInWithMe #ChronicPain

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Come Forth Lazarus by Melanie R.

Come forth Lazarus!
Come forth Lazarus!

Wrapped up just like Lazarus,
Bound down in decay.
If He would have come sooner,
would life have gone that way?

They thought it was over;
But that’s when Jesus came!
He cried out for Lazarus;
With a shout, He called his name.

And He said,”Come forth, Lazarus”!
“You’ve been dead four days;
Take off your bandages,
your life is gonna change!”

Come forth, Lazarus!
Jesus freed him from the grave!

Come forth Lazarus.
You came back from the dead-
Set free from the pain.

Come forth Lazarus!
Jesus freed you from the grave!

Come forth Lazarus!

Be free from all your bandages!
Your life is gonna change.
In Jesus name!!

Breathe again!

See the “Come Forth Lazarus”
song/video available on my
YouTube:
Melanie’s Melody
along with many other inspiring songs/videos. Enjoy and God Bless your health journey!
We CAN come back to life, and have our own resurrection experience. Maybe in different ways with health issues, but there is Life in Christ!

#ChronicIllness #ChronicInflammatoryDemyelinatingPolyneuropathy #ChronicPain #InsideTheMighty #PrimaryImmunodeficiency #PosturalOrthostaticTachycardiaSyndrome #MitochondrialDisease #Gastroparesis #MightyPoets #MightyTogether #CheckInWithMe

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When peace feels foreign

There’s a strange fear that creeps in when things are finally calm.
You’d think peace would feel like relief.
But sometimes… it feels like a trap.

I’m not used to calm.
I’m used to chaos disguised as normal.
Raised in noise. Conditioned by unpredictability. Shaped by survival.
I didn’t grow up learning how to rest. I grew up learning how to scan the room.
How to read moods before they shifted.
How to prepare for the storm before the first cloud even formed.
How to be ten steps ahead — just in case.

So now, when everything’s still… my nervous system doesn’t trust it.
When no one’s yelling. When no one’s mad. When no one’s leaving.
I don’t feel safe — I feel suspicious.
Like something’s wrong and I’m just not seeing it yet.

Because in my body, calm doesn’t always feel like safety.
It feels like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

There’s a discomfort in the quiet.
A tension that builds in the silence.
When no one’s texting. When the notifications stop.
When no one’s asking for anything and it’s just me, alone with myself…
It doesn’t always feel good.
It feels foreign.

I’m learning that trauma teaches you to normalize chaos.
It wires your body to expect the worst, even when the worst isn’t coming.
So when something isn’t chaotic — when something is steady — your brain goes into alert mode.
“This can’t be right.”
“This is too good.”
“This won’t last.”
And so, peace becomes uncomfortable. Even scary.

But I don’t want to keep living like this.

I don’t want to keep sabotaging my peace just because it feels unfamiliar.
I don’t want to ruin soft things just because they feel “too quiet.”
I don’t want to keep finding chaos in every calm moment because I’m afraid of being bored, or worse — alone with my thoughts.

So I’ve started wondering…
Can peace be something I practice?

Can I teach my nervous system a new language?
Can I show my body that softness doesn’t always mean danger?
That consistency isn’t always followed by abandonment?
That love doesn’t have to be loud to be real?

Maybe peace isn’t supposed to feel natural at first.
Maybe it’s something you learn to hold.
Like a new instrument. Or a new dialect.
At first, it feels clunky. Awkward. Off-key.
But then — you start to find rhythm.
And eventually… it becomes second nature.

I want peace to be second nature.
I want stillness to feel safe.
I want love that doesn’t rush or push or pull or burn me alive.
I want mornings that don’t start with dread.
I want to wake up and not hear my brain say, “Here we go again.”
I want to breathe without bracing.
I want to enjoy my own company without fearing the silence.
I want to believe that peace can be real, and that I don’t have to earn it through suffering.

So I’m learning.
I’m unlearning.
I’m practicing.

Because maybe peace isn’t a destination.
Maybe it’s a language.
And I’m finally learning how to speak it. #MightyPoets #peace #BipolarDepression #PTSD #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #Anxiety #Depression

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Silenced

I been in a weird space lately…
the kind of space where silence is loud.
Where my voice
my Black woman voice
starts to feel like a risk

In a world where race is “controversial,”
my body still remembers
It’s been carrying the weight of oppression
long before my mind
could name the pain

See, I’ve got a lot to say
I been trying to speak
but my thoughts are engulfed
in other people’s comfort,
making silence feel safer
than vulnerability

I feel the risk
The cost of being an unemployed Black woman
with the inevitable truth
that I have something to lose
a career before I even step foot
on the professional scene

“Be wise. Be careful.”
As if caution ever kept a Black woman safe
As if shrinking ever saved us

There’s a tug-of-war inside me
my soul pulling toward purpose,
my fear clinging to survival

My support divided:
half saying, “Play it safe.”
the other half saying,
“Burn it all down.”

God…
You said I could walk through fire
and not get scorched
But this
this heat,
this waiting,
this silence
this right here
feels like hell!!
#MightyPoets #Depression #MentalHealth #Anxiety #Journaling #Grief

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