Scars on my soul.

The bird was laying on the ground, it was breathing, ready to give up

I scooped it up, it’s wing was broken, it’s leg was cut, the little bird put up no fight

I could imagine how it’s feeling, full of pain from the break, cuts & bruises

Full of despair, no hope left in its eyes, it’s spirit broken

I chock back tears, I can feel everything the sweet bird is feeling

I can feel the pain, trauma & despair

It is no bird, it’s my spirit I hold, broken from all I have been through

Not today I say, I want to give in, the desire to just let go is so strong

Not today, I pull myself back from the edge, I force myself to take some deep breaths

Not today I repeat, I force myself to feel something else

I can feel the despair ease, I can see a glimmer of hope

I grab on, I force myself towards the light, I stand up

I can do this, I tell myself, you can get through this

I slowly let the hope fill me up, I open my eyes, I am still here

My spirit is slowly healing, there will be a scar, a scar to say I can

To remind me I am still standing.

The Old Blue Stone Path.

For every woman who doubts themselves like I do. I wrote this for me.

As she looked down she could see the mark of so many feet that had walked the blue stone path before her

As she kept looking she could see how worn & smooth it was, like the water sculpts the rocks

The edges of the stone was still rough, not used as much, they were keeping the stone together, just like it’s backbone, the rougher bit in the middle, feet walked on either side

Yes she thought the stone is old & worn, yet still a beautiful blue, still useful & needed

All of a sudden in her head she had a thought, she had been struggling with feeling useless & old  

She realised yes, she had her worn parts, she had been through a lot, it had all left it’s mark

Her backbone was still strong, she had beauty in her own way if you looked closer, her edges could be rough

She knew she could be a little cranky & reactive at times

But here were these stones, so useful & needed, they were reliable, strong, always there

She understood that she was the same, she was all that these beautiful blue stones are & more.

Ellpoet is a page of unexpected poetry about love, life, bi pola & PTSD.

I have bi pola & PTSD, both of these I write about, to help me cope & share experiences.

The beautiful demise.

The beautiful blonde walked out the door ignoring the eyes on her
She knew they were there but only cared about one set watching her
She could feel the eyes watching her & felt a little more special 
She knew it wasn’t just because of her beauty or swagger
It what was inside that was loved the most 
The scars, bruises & marks she knew all to well
She knew these were loved no matter how much she despises them
Remember she says to herself, that I am special & loved
I am the one written about 
I am enough.