themightypoets

Heard you were gone

Didn’t quite believe it.

Until

A hole

a gaping space

Filled with emptiness

Opened

Inside of me.

Then I was

blind, blurry

Lost

Wet, salty tears

Clouded like the ocean…

That you’d never see again.

I miss your smile

I miss your laugh

The way you held me

Like I was all you had.

Made me feel precious.

Like a piece of glass

Glass

shatters

Breaks into

A million pieces

Like my heart when I realized

You were gone.

My heart

You held a piece of it from the start

And now you’re gone

Gone

I remember

Holding your hand

A connection

So few understand

Your hand

Delicate

gentle

Loving

Laughing

I didn’t want to slip out of your grasp

You slipped out of my grasp

Didn’t want to let go

Don’t want to let go

Please don’t let go…

Don’t leave me

Stay.

Don’t want to let go…

Not of your smile

Not of your laugh

Not of the memories

in the photographs

Not of your love

You filled a room

Just the bright look in your eyes

Wanted to be near you

All the time

I want to be with you

But you’re in paradise

And now you’re gone

What am I supposed to do

Now that you’re gone?

You hold my hand

Through the threshold of life

You hold

A piece of my heart

Always

Enjoy paradise as you did life.

Always.

I’ll miss you tons

But this isn’t goodbye

‘Cause I’ll hold your hand

Through the obstacles in life

Always.

#themightypoets #Grief

“Why does she
Walk like that?” they say, quietly,
In a harsh whisper, like that
Makes it better
(It doesn’t.)
I might walk
slowly
But I can hear
their words,
even if I wish
I couldn’t.

They whisper
Like how I walk
is
Scary,
Disgusting,
Morbidly fascinating.

Sometimes, I feel
If I didn’t have legs like this,
I would
Fly
Soar
Never touch the ground.

Instead my legs
Tighten
Spasm
Heavy to lift, my legs are
Made of stone.
My left leg drags
behind me,
My foot interrupting the stride
Of the other.

If I didn’t have legs like this,
I could
Fly
But maybe
Not everyone should fly all the time.
Maybe,
Sometimes,
We are meant to
Fall.

I fall
I break down
I wonder why it matters
How I walk.

I have been told
so many times
“You don’t look
Handicapped.”
“You don’t look like
there’s anything wrong
With you.”
If that is true,
why?
Why is my walk
Analyzed?
Why are my legs
Noticed,
as if they are
Grotesque,
Horrifying,
Wrong?

I sit between two worlds
Two globes, spinning on
Their axis,
Not quite different
Enough
But all too different
To fit.
Either way I lean,
I am not
Enough.

“Why does she walk
Like that?” they whisper.
“What is wrong
With you?” they ask, but
It isn’t a question.
I have been branded
Wrong,
And though they wonder
why,
their questions have already been
answered,
By the way I walk.

They don’t try
To know anything else.
Their curiosity has been satisfied
By my legs,
My definition
in their minds.

I haven’t even said
A word.
My voice is not
Enough.
Would it matter
what I said?
They have decided
What I am
Without my
input
Anyway.

Their words—
“What is wrong
with you?”;
“Why does she walk
Like that?”—
Echo every insecurity
Already placed inside my head.

Insecurity pounds on my brain
I look around
For the culprit, but they are
Already gone
So I guess that means
The culprit is me

They walked away
With their
Perfect legs,
Feet that turn outward,
Toes that don’t curl,
Legs that don’t betray them
as they walk.
I walk away, too,
but I might as well have
Stayed where I was.

Their words
Repeat
Like a drumbeat
In my mind.
Like a pulse
I can’t drown out
I’m helpless

As I watch them
Walk away,
I realize that
The only way
I can fly—
For now—
is:
My left foot cuts under
My right,
My toes curl
In a death grip
Against the floor;
I’m weightless, for just a split second,
My stomach swoops
I forget everything
For just a second.

But then I slam into the ground
And it’s over.
Back to reality

A reality where my only chance at weightlessness
is falling down.
A reality where
Girls’ comments about
my legs,
the way I walk,
Brings me to tears.

I pick myself up
Off the floor
It’s like nothing happened
The only evidence is in my head
Their words repeating
Over and over again.

As I walk
With my limp
I know it’s okay
To be myself, but
I look around and wonder
How many people are looking
At my crooked legs
Judging me,
Defining me
For something over which I
Have no control,
the way I walk.

I have an answer
Not just for them, but
For me
I am the way I am
I am not
Defined by my legs
At least,
I don’t want to be.

I have to hear their voices
But would they be willing
To hear mine?

All I can do is
Walk away
Walk away with my
Different legs,
Walk away with my
Legs that betray me
Walk away from their words
Walk toward what is true
Walk toward self-acceptance

I’m on the path less traveled
As their words echo
In my ear
I just have to know
And not define myself
By the way I walk,
No matter what
Other people think
Or say
Or do.

I am not the way I walk,
Despite
Their words.
Despite
My insecurities
One day
I will fly

#themightypoets #CerebralPalsy

Water
No one tells it what to be, how to be
Water flows continuously,
water keeps going,
Content with what it is.

Made up of many molecules, all vital for the element
I, too,
Am composed of so many things
All essential to make me who I am
Though it is not always
Viewed that way.

And when the moon is risen
Darkness has fallen on the world,
there is light, reflection, in the lakes and rivers,
Reflection in ourselves.

Reflected in the water, I am
Crooked
Light refracted
Simply the girl who has the
Awkward smile,
thoughts she doesn’t
Say,
Emotions in her eyes,
and legs that are her chains—but only if
That girl allows
Her legs to define her.

I make a choice
When I look at my
Reflection
One foot on the water
The reflection ripples, is
Gone,
Unreliable.
Unreliable like my legs can be
Unreliable as my steps, legs shaky,
One foot drags behind me,
Binding me, holding me
Down
But I am not the way I walk

When I look into the water, there is so much
And so little
I can see
I can see how I hold myself
I can see my legs,
I can see all the little things
The tells—
Fingers digging into my skin;
Arms tight with anxiety;
Head tilted downward;
Eyes meeting the floor—
That make me
How I don’t want to be seen.
The way
I don’t want others
To view me.

When I look into my reflection,
I wonder
Is my reflection all that other people see?

There is so much more
Beneath the surface of the water
So much more
Beneath my surface
If only people are brave enough
To dive beneath the water

God put my cerebral palsy
On my surface
God put my
Crossed eyes
Hesitant smile
Crooked legs
on my surface
But what a blessing it is
My reflection isn’t all of me

Through my reflection
I teach others to see
Not everything is as it seems
Not everything can easily be defined
Not everything can fit into a label
I am not made up of labels.

For those that choose to see
My inside
Hopefully you see

The happiness
in my awkward smile
The emotions
in my crossed eyes
The effort
in my gait
And all that my reflection can’t
Show you,
Or tell you.

My reflection can’t tell you
How grateful I am for kindness
My reflection can't tell you
My passions
My goals
All I have gone through,
All I have done.

My reflection is limited,
Is so flawed
Not just because
my legs are flawed
But because
The reflexion shows my physical struggles
Only
My outward appearance
Only
My reflection is accurate to those who see
With their eyes,
Not with their heart.

Water goes with the flow
Is content with the way it is
Water offers so much to the world
Is seemingly simple,
But made up of so many complex
Parts, so many
Molecules.

As I step through the water,
The next challenge
In my life,
My left knee bent toward
My right leg,
My arms tight
Against my sides,
My eyes crossed, yet seeing so much;
My left foot, turned inward though it is;
Strikes the water
Shatters my reflection
And I smile
The watery reflection never represented me,
Truly,
anyway.

I am like water.
Content with who
I am,
Made up of
So many things,
Seemingly simple,
I can offer so much
To the world—
If only people see
Past my reflection.

#themightypoets #CerebralPalsy #Amblyopia

In real life, my tongue is tied
In real life, my voice is
Meek
Barely there
Hardly a decibel
Only there for people
Who are willing
To hear it.

When I enter theater,
I am
Different.
As if a spell was cast
Like I am the female lead
Of my own play,
My own story,
My own life.

In theater, I am not
Helpless
Not anymore.

In theater, my voice is
Strong
Resonates
Like I know that
I Deserve to be
Heard.

In theater, I can be
Angry
It’s okay
I can yell
I can restrain myself
I can be
Furious
I can be
Quiet
I don’t have to be
Real

But yet it's in the theater
On the stage
Looking out at the people who
Over this year have become
My confidants,
My community,
My friends,
My Family,
that I am real
that I am completely
Myself.

In this space
That has become
My happy place
My source of joy
I can act
I can cry
I can become someone
Different
But I end up being me.

In theater,
I step through the doors
and lives fall apart
And are mended
in the span of an hour
When I’m upset
Feeling that I’m
Broken,
Shattered,
The pieces slipping through my fingers,
I can be emotional
But it’s someone else I'm speaking for

Theater is seemingly simple
Yet so effortlessly complex
Theater is fun,
Smiles,
Laughter,
A place where I can
Relax
Be me.

Theater is not a
Team sport,
And yet I’ve found
My team
We’re all equal players
Our game is life
In theater,
My friends,
My family,
We are a team—
With support,
Encouragement,
Prayers,
Surrounding each other
Building each other up.

While becoming someone else
I find myself
I find a group in which
I belong
I find happiness
I find a family who accepts me
People who see me
As who I pretend to be

The girl with the
Strong voice
Burning gaze
Emotions in her eyes
The girl who knows
What she’s doing
Who she wants to be
And yet, that girl is me
In a different universe.

Only a few people
See that universe
Only a few people see
A girl who can act
Without breaking,
A girl who can say
What she wants
Raise her voice
Convey a message
With a single glance.

This girl can stop
Keeping her words
Inside,
To herself

I can pretend all I want
But I am seen
I am seen so much more
Than I ever have been
Before.

When I speak
I am learning how to
Express myself.
Being quiet can be
Strong,
But using my voice
Has its own kind of strength.

In theater, I don’t
Walk on eggshells
Instead I
Walk across the stage

In theater, I don’t lock eyes
With the floor.
I gaze at my audience, maintain
Eye contact.

In theater, I don’t
Make myself scarce.
I let myself
Take up space
(what a beautiful feeling).

In theater, I don’t
Bite my tongue
I speak, because
In theater
Speech is key.

In theater,
I don’t forget
My legs.
It’s more like
My legs don’t matter
Anymore.
I move
differently
My left leg hasn’t magically
Changed
My words tumble out faster
Than my legs can move.

In theater, it’s like
I don’t care
My legs will keep up with me
Or not
I have a purpose
Whether or not my legs agree

My emotions propel me
These emotions,
I feel them all
The time.
I am more of an actress
Elsewhere
Be quiet, I tell myself
Hide your feelings.
It’s how I survive

Theater is not about surviving
Not anymore.
I can thrive
My voice matters,
here.

I can think what I like
Say what I feel
And though some of it is
Pretend,
Not all of it is.

I can’t always say
What needs to be said,
not yet,
Not to who really needs to
Hear it.

Each time,
I drop other people’s words
What they think of me
Their control over my life
And,
Slowly,
I take that control back.

In theater,
Every whisper,
Every murmur,
Every comment or shout or wisecrack
Anything anyone could say
It all matters.

As my voice slips out
I become who I wish
I could be.

Theater is not all
Pretending.
Theater is heart
and soul
in being someone else,
Even if that someone
is yourself.

As I realize
My voice matters
My voice is heard
I have power,
It was taken,
But my power doesn’t have to be
Gone.

This power is mine to earn
With my words
and my voice
and my trust

Theater gives me a reason,
Another person to be,
For just a while.

And over time,
That person
The girl who is confident when she moves,
The voice that holds power,
quiet or loud,
The girl who believes in herself
Believes she can speak her mind
Believes she has something worth saying,
Will emerge
Like a butterfly flying from the cocoon.

#themightypoets #performingartsonthemighty #CerebralPalsy #MentalHealth #Anxiety

#PTSD #CPTSD #CPTSDinrelationships #BipolarDisorder #Bipolar2Disorder #BipolarDepression #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #BorderlineStigma #PinchedNerve #sciatica #PolycysticOvarySyndrome #MyalgicEncephalomyelitis #SinusInfection #sinusitus #CheckInWithMe #Upallnight #FlareUps #FibroFog #Fibromyaliga #Fibromyalgia #ObsessiveCompulsiveDisorder #Upallnight #DBT #GastroesophagealRefluxDisease #MightyQuestions #mightyfriends #TheMighty #TheMightyTakeaway #themightypoets #TheMightyCommunity #TheMightyCommunity #MightyBookClub #MightyQuestions #MightyReviews #Selfcare #Photography #Art #WritingThroughIt #BipolarStigma #Bipolar1Disorder #Bipolar1Mixed #ADHD #Aspergers #AspergersSyndrome #AspergersSyndromeAwareness #Survivor #Love #DatingWithAChronicIllness #Dating

A wave can be slow and peaceful
A wave can soothe and heal your soul
A wave can be gentle and kind
A wave can be one with the seasons
A wave can be a simple part of nature
A wave can be a part of Gods plan
Or a wave can have emense intense power.
It can come crashing down upon you with a force so great it destroys everything in its path.
Leaving nothing in its wake!
It can crush the life out of everything it touches
Taking your last breathe away...
In every person lies a wave buried deep inside
A wave that started as a gentle warm rolling curl of water lapping up upon the shore
Carressing the sand and then retreating back into the ocean
Tasting life and then coming back home to safety
But what if life or home was not safe
What if life beat you up
Your gentle innocent wave grews in intensity
Gentle no more!
10 feet high
Power beyond belief
A tsunami of emotion and hurt!
And you...
You stand at a crossroad,
Anger beating in your heart
The words pounding in your ears...
Vengence shall be mine!
I deserve to be angry to scorch the earth with my rage ...
I will feel better then .. Right???
But I am at a crossroad
Will I let my wave crush everything in it's path?
Or will I let the water heal the hurt?
Will I let it soothe my soul?
Will I be the slow peaceful wave on shore once again? #fibromyalgiafatigue #Fibromyalgia

I get applauded for how well spoken and open I am about my journey. I am honored and feel incredibly blessed to be able to create content that resonates with others, who have felt/feel the same way but lacked language. I’m learning more and more about my purpose everyday, and it is such a beautiful journey! Especially after years of just trying to make it through the day. I still find myself feeling my feels very hard...AND I’m getting better and not letting my feelings run my life. That being said, sometimes, that which we feel honored to do sometimes feel heavy. I personally feel that heaviness is due to our perspective and our fears. Fear of failing, fear of judgment, fear of rejection, and for me, oftentimes, fear that I will run out of important things to say. Writing boring poems, strumming and singing uninspired songs, empty speeches, and creating subpar vlog and blog posts are just a few of the fears that plague my mind and heart and scream in four part harmony that I should just give up now. I refuse. I speak from a place of hope and conviction. I know what it’s like to live in a world where emotions are fragile and intense. Over time, I have been able to find freedom in speaking my truth, unfiltered. That’s all I do, no big secret or trick or algorithm. I simply share my heart, where I’ve been, and the hope I have for the future. I’ve survived 100% of everything that hell has thrown my way, and I AM SO EXCITED about that! Almost as excited as I am to say that YOU HAVE TOO!!! That is what my secured hope is fueled by - the fact that if we've overcome that which we feared we wouldn’t, then we can do it again! Through The Mighty, we can do it together! Tonight, I felt myself give myself permission to just be. Not try to be the most famous blogger, singer, successful and completely healed 20 year old, but to always remind myself of my why. Why do I speak even though it’s scary? Because I believe that there is brilliant beauty to be found in and created of brokenness, and that there is strength in surviving, and there is a LIFE we are fighting for and creating. Simply put, I want to encourage as many people to stick around and create the life they dream of. I want us to be able to freely share our stories, no matter how dark or how light they are because, friends, there is strength in numbers! I almost went to bed defeated while rehearsing the lies of loneliness and insignificance. Instead, I chose to use my voice, to share my heart, and if nothing else, encourage just one person to believe that they are not alone in their darkness, therefore, they do not have to journey towards light alone. #Bipolar2Disorder    #BipolarDepression  #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder  #BulimiaNervosa  #EatingDisorders  #EatingDisorderRecovery   #Recovery   #prorecovery   #AnorexiaNervosa  #Hope  #Healing  #themightypoets   #Music  #hopeheals   #OSFED #hopehealsinitiative  

I long for That Day
We All live in complete
Peace and safety
No worries
Or anxiety
That Day when
All the captives
Get set free
No limitations
No boundaries
Or controversies
Just global unity
No sickness death
Or disease
No violence
A day of pure humanity
Sound minds
And clarity
No confusion
Or insanity
That Day when All the
Hospitals are empty
And everyone is healthy
That Day we no longer
Depend on money
But Instead we’re All
Spiritually wealthy
And no one goes hungry
That Day we’re All reborn
And worship The Lord
In one mind
In one accord
As the devil burns
I long for That Day
When Jesus Returns
#themightypoets My Original

The mountains I’ve climbed
taught me that in times
of need and great despair,
nothing is right, just or fair!When your whole body burns
while your lungs gasps for air,
you’ll crumble and fall
in the bedroom, living room
or the hall.
No one will be there for you,
no one at all!You’ll need to learn to move on,
to gather the bricks, the mortar
and glue yourself back on!Your knees will ache and touch the ground
with incredible speed and a terrible sound,
you’ll shiver and cry, you’ll twitch and torn,
you’ll wish you hadn’t been born.You’ll breakdown and achieve incredible depths,
you’ll picture yourself having a thousand deaths,
you’ll experience pains, pins, shame and regrets,
you’ll know sadness, anxiety and mistrust,
you’ll feel forgotten, left to rot, turned to dust.You’ll learn to rely on your own
you’ll wish that you hadn’t grown,
you’ll look for ways to live and go on,
to avoid rain and cold, to protect your bones!You’ll explore uncharted grey zones,
you'll read all about spirochetes and hormones,
cause Lyme offers a hell of a ride
by the end of it, you’ll be a warrior worldwide.
#themightypoets