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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Surviving Springdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: WriteSomething
    Elite Ratio:    3.43 - 22/17/7
    Words: 147
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 595
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1033



    Description:
       


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsSurviving Springdots
    -------------------------------------------


    Spring makes even the deadest hearts
    feel some stirring, a longing for New,
    a chance to shed winter pounds, old skin
    and be some long-lost shade of willow.
    I've spent the last six years wrapped gray
    in shadows, swallowing comfortable padding,
    dulled and dowdy, dressing myself down
    publicly invisible.
    I feel as ugly as I've made myself become.
    I don't want "I love you's", or bewitchments,
    or to summarize my life in dating rituals
    of, "Tell me something about yourself,"
    while being silently judged for flaws
    or searched for traits of compatibility.
    FAT is my defiance, as well as an anchor
    to keep me from wanting too much,
    dreaming too big, or making myself
    too vulnerable.

    But when those first few tiny flowers push
    through the cold dirt, sometimes it feels
    like they're breaking out of my own heart.







    Submitted on 2017-03-27 08:55:06     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I also feel this way when the season changes and gets warmer. There is something about the earth coming alive that makes someone want to also. I think it's really about coming to terms with yourself and what you want to be as a person and trying to be ok with yourself if not love yourself for your own mistakes and move forward. This is something I have struggled with. Good read
    | Posted on 2017-05-04 00:00:00 | by concrete_rose | [ Reply to This ]
      This successfully captures much of what I (not so successfully) attempt to say in my piece Frühling. That there is this "thing" called hope that is also accompanied by caution, and some jaded sense of wishing you could still have it (hope). It's almost a taunt. And yet there is the tiniest sense that you still may grasp that which is so illusive you dare not wish for it any more.

    Well done.
    | Posted on 2017-04-04 00:00:00 | by JanePlane | [ Reply to This ]


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