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A Poet's Bleeding Heart🖤📜🪶

I have been a writer all my life. Truly, from the moment I could pick up a pen to the time I learned to read: I have been pouring my soul out onto paper, smearing it and covering my fingers in ink and vulnerability as I attempt to articulate the ocean of emotion that crashes and flows through me.

I have never shared my writing in any kind of public setting... this is certainly new.
But.
A little encouragement, a little push, and it's wonderful the things I am willing to do to step outside my comfort zone!

I have found that I love reading others blogs, even more so when they act as a mirror. I get so lost in the words and soul of another, it's cathartic. It's the feeling of being "seen", "understood".
It's the "you are not alone"

I have been told my writing is well received most of the time, though, even if it weren't, I'd still want to share if for no other reason but the hope ONE person reads it and thinks "I am not alone."
2 weeks ago. Saturday, April 25, 2026 at 3:03 AM

The River

 

 

I have always loved to swim. 

The water whispers to me, propeling my steps one after another toward its sparkling bank.  

It asks me to sink my toes into the cool pool, to let the water lap at my heels. 

 

I have always loved to swim. 

Though, as an old soul I'm no longer a match for the rip tide of the roaring rapids. Brutish and swift, an engulfing and relentless wave after wave. Pounding water into your lungs with punishing pain. You swallow, but only to gasp for air, taking it in like tiny blades. 

 

I have always loved to swim. 

I think, perhaps, you'll find me languidly afloat. A place you aren't asked to kick and scream and choke. You're only asked to float. Head tipped back, half submerged as the sweetly swirling currents  weave through every saturated curl. You close your eyes and let the sun seep into your soul. You don't have to see anymore. You're being carried away, all you are asked to do? 

Simply,

 

float. 

 

So, I think I shall. 

 

I have always loved to swim. 

I think the rapids love to play. 

But learning to exhale in the flow of the low and slow? 

Now that's where the deeper currents seem to go.

You could nearly part your lips for the water, so to slowly drink your fill. You feel it dampen and douse that burning firey will. You allow it to seep deep into that seceret burning well. 

 

I have always loved to swim. 

I believe I could be one with the water. Little by little I could learn to open up, swallowing a bit more by every sip and gulp.

I think I'd hold it there if only for just a spell. To savor the taste of freedom on my tongue. A reverant "yes" down my throat as I  swallow every one.

Until the water then pulls me under. Until half submerged becomes a half measure. And then it's time to fully surrender.

I think I could open my eyes under that crystal clear essence, just to watch the last few bubbles bobbling to the surface. 

I don't think I shall miss them, as I find I don't even need them here. I don't have to fight to breathe or flail.

I'm simply held by that pressure, a steady grip that won't fail.

 

I have always loved to swim. 

I guess soon I'll pay the toll.

It's just a matter of time

before The River 

swallows me

 

whole.

 

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