To cage one's own heart willingly...

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I hear a kind of sorrow in that idea, someone so attuned to others that they disappear from their own care. Here’s a poem around that feeling: There lives a soul who reads the ache In trembling smiles that others fake, Who hears the grief in laughter’s sound, And kneels where silent wounds are found. A keeper of unspoken fears, A witness soft to hidden tears, They gather storms from weary skies And hold them gently, asking, “Why?” How strange, how pitiful the art, To know each fracture of a heart, Yet turn no lantern to one’s own, And make of sorrow flesh and bone. For they will calm another’s sea, Whilst drowning where none care to see; Will stitch the wounds on stranger’s skin, Yet leave their own to ache within. They understand too much, perhaps, The grief between affection’s gaps, The trembling guilt, the sharpened shame, The quiet hurt with no true name. And so they bend, and so they stay, To light the dark in others’ way; Till kindness, noble though it seems, Consumes the keeper ...

The world needs to see you be human...


The world has to see you as human,
Not perfect, not sculpted in gold.
One-handed truths,
As long as you are invisible to yourself, you are invisible
To the stories you’ve never told.

It does not require perfect answers
Or smiles that never break.
“It needs your trembling courage,” he said,
And the risks you’re afraid to take.

Be human through all of your becoming,
In the nights you don’t feel enough
A line of people
In the stillness of your troubles,
In the days when breathing feels tough.

Let them understand the meaning of your tears,
Every one a truth you survived.
Let them see how you fall apart
And still want to go on living.

It is distant and cold, perfection;
It teaches the heart to pretend, to conceal.
But humanity holds out its hands
And says, “You don’t have to mend.”

Your scars aren’t a sign of weakness
They prove that you at least tried.
What you loved with an open heart,
And refused to feel numb inside.

So show up messy and honest,
With faith that shakes, yet remains;
With hope stitched together slowly,
Conceived from loss, from healing, from pain.

The world doesn’t need you untouchable
Or polished for everyone’s view 

It requires your imperfect, living presence;

It requires the true, vulnerable you..

The world needs to see you be human.... 
not perfect.
-Ambivertsyed

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