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bettiebune.bsky.social
Magpie of human experience searching for self. If you peer into my soul and don’t like what you see please feel free to keep walking.
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Sometimes in life They say a little rain must fall And here’s me without my umbrella.

With sharpened tongues Rogue poets protect The medium of scattered words Felt rather than heard A mix of metaphors Without grammatical restraints Defending art from captors Because silence is death. #grattitude

The experience of a woman Is to be constantly corrected “Helpful advice” Takes aim at us But a gun is still a gun Even with a silencer.

A poets job Is to scratch at the truth Until it bleeds freely A neurosis Of picking at a thing Trying to untangle it’s beauty Without leaving a scar #poetry

Empathy is priceless It is not free.

Walking on shards of glass Barefoot and bleeding Eggshells much too kind a metaphor For the distain and dysmorphia I am never where I want to be Endless shards preventing me From keeping up #poetry

Why do you keep them Because they were beautiful once They stand a testament to the people I have been Reminders of the grief of loss For which one becomes attached When there’s nothing else to hold onto #poetry

We all so badly want to be valued need to be remembered We write the ones we love into our lives through keepsakes photos, letters, journals, poems to try to keep these memories beyond our expirations Our names as keys to who we are, times we've lived #poetry

Wildly unsure Yet unwaveringly certain I begin to live again Despite myself. #poetry

I have survived 100% of my worst days I forget that sometimes I rake myself over the coals for how I got it done But I survived.

The fires we endured create us If we were abandoned we become constant If we were beaten we become peace If we were met with hate we become tolerant If we feel unworthy we become acceptance The fires that threaten to consume us create us. #poetry #poetryprompt

I often think liminal spaces should come with a surgeon general’s warning “can be disastrous to your mental health” #poetry

Objects can not object It was what she was wearing It was how she looked at me It was what she wanted It was the way she walked Her fault she asked for it Her fault for being there Her fault for being pretty Her fault for being drunk Objects can not object #poetry

It wouldn’t be so bad if one simply walked away Or even the lingering belief that you weren’t worth staying for The nightmare begins when you admit you need someone And you are met with silence. #poetry

She kissed the devil on his lips Smiling sweetly at his face You are not my enemy Just a misunderstood vice That saved my life. #poetry

Not all pain screams some pain is whispered through poetry.

Once you taste heaven how do you stomach hell? Asking for a friend.