#MightyPoets

Dear Friend,

It shouldn’t have ended.

All I wanted was to be heard.

But you left me

during a time when I needed you most.

Now I’m left grieving a friendship that still exists—but not in my life anymore.

There’s a pain that’s indescribable.

I feel a deep sadness having to grieve someone who is still there.

It’s hard to stop thinking about it—

because it consumes my every thought.

I remember our childhood.

The first day we met, we saw each other.

We grabbed hands on the first day of school

and silently told one another,

“We’ve got this.”

We can make it through together.

Countless sleepovers.

Soccer games.

Birthday parties.

We rarely left each other’s side.

There were years where we drifted,

but we always remained close.

We went through a lot together,

and I thought we understood one another.

The past six years, we formed a stronger bond.

We saw each other nearly every week.

And now, there’s an emptiness—

a hollowness without you in my life.

Discovering What Brings Me Peace

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Discovering What Brings Me Peace

You still shine in my eyes.

You still hold a piece of my heart.

And for that reason, I can’t let you go—

but I will if I must.

I’m sorry for my approach,

but I felt hurt by your silence.

I have a lot of big emotions,

and my sensitivity makes things harder sometimes.

I hope one day we can apologize to one another.

I hope one day you’ll have it in your heart

to have a conversation.

Until then, know this:

I love you, and I always will.

You were a great friend throughout the years,

and I could never replace you.

My love knows no bounds.

It’s endless, even for people who leave.

I’ll hold on to memories of the past

and be hopeful for the future.

“It is so hard to forget pain, but it is even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness.” — Chuck Palahniuk

#MightyPoets #MentalHealth #Grief #Neurodiversity #MightyTogether

I finally spoke up…

and somehow I became the problem.

I knew you my whole life.

I showed up for you—every time.

Listened to everything.

Made space for you

like it was second nature.

But when it was my turn,

you weren’t there.

So I did something scary—

I was honest about how you hurt me.

And instead of listening,

you flipped it on me.

Blamed me.

Belittled me.

Made me question myself.

I sat there overthinking,

waiting for your response—

on your terms, of course.

And when it came,

it wasn’t care.

It was manipulation.

That’s when I realized:

I wasn’t losing a friend.

I was letting go of someone

who never knew how to be one.

“The friendship ended where silence used to live.”

#MentalHealth #Neurodiversity #MightyPoets

Jonah by Melanie R.

Oh, Jonah …oh, oh, oh, Jonah.
Jonah descended…
From the town,
to the dock,
boat to the sea,
surface to deepest depths.
Down, in the belly of the beast.

Oh, that whale consumed him!

Swallowed Jonah whole!

…And before he knew it,
taken to gates of Sheol.
A watery grave-
He cried out to The Lord a desperate prayer;
A humble plea for mercy,
and he was gracefully granted it.

God heard, and rescued Jonah
from the dark abyss.
The whale spit him forth to dry land;
Back to life again.

A second breath.
A second chance to do God’s will-
The One that reigns above the waves.
Gave new life;
Saved his life!
Brought Jonah all the way.

#MitochondrialDisease #ChronicInflammatoryDemyelinatingPolyneuropathy #ChronicPain #InsideTheMighty #SjogrensSyndrome #PrimaryImmunodeficiency #MightyPoets #MightyTogether #CheckInWithMe #ChronicIllness #Gastroparesis #IrritableBowelSyndromeIBS

Hi Mighty poets! ✏️📓

Our poetry writing challenge today is to write a poem that begins by completing the following sentence:

"I climbed a mountain and at the top I saw _____."

✨ Feel free to use any type of figurative language or poetic style you’d like!

Here’s mine:

I climbed a mountain and at the top I saw the ocean—
except instead of water, I saw clouds swimming, a sight to behold.
Each one different, a calm I never understood,
the rhythm of the horizon undisturbed.

The colors of the present—orange, blue, stardust, stillness, and truth.
The color of truth must be a shimmery golden yellow
mixed with lavender, a tinge of white.

I sat down to connect with my inner divine,
to bask in the splendor of my sight.
No words, no thoughts.

I am in community with creation.
This is it.
This is peace.
This is home.

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

What is a poem?
By Bret

What is a poem, they ask,
as if a panel somewhere stamped the answer
and locked it in a glass case.

I stand here with moving hands,
inkless, voiceless, loud in a different way.
The poems, the signs.
My language spills forward like water over stone.

I am Deaf.
The system cannot hear my hands,
yet my hands keep speaking.

Who gets to decide the rules?
The ones who listen for rhythm in sound?
The ones who chase rhyme through air?
The ones who tap their feet to a beat
I never felt through the ear
but always felt through the floor?

Poem.
Peom.
Moep.
Meop.

Say it enough times
and the word starts to wobble,
loses its costume,
stands there bare and confused.

They call things beautiful.
Based on what?
Sound?
A rising note?
A falling note?
A pattern pressed into silence?

What is a beat?
A drum?
A pulse?
A heart pushing against the ribs?
A hand striking meaning into space?

When my hands flow,
there is rhythm.
When my face shifts,
there is tone.
When my body leans forward,
there is intention.

Is there a sound?
No.
And yes.

A different kind.
A quiet thunder.
A visual echo.
A language moving fast enough
to shake the air without touching it.

What is a poem?

A breath.
A pause.
A flick of the wrist.
A question left hanging
between two people
who understand.

Who decides?

Maybe no one.
Maybe everyone.
Maybe the poem decides
the moment the hands begin to move.

#aslpoem #DeafCulture #MightyPoets