Poet Rae

Poet Rae 💔 a sad soul with a broken heart 💔

I tried to meet you where you were.I bent my understanding until it ached, convinced myself that silence was patience, t...
12/24/2025

I tried to meet you where you were.
I bent my understanding until it ached, convinced myself that silence was patience, that swallowing my pain was love. I ignored the lapses, softened the disappointments, trained my tears to fall quietly where no one could see. I told myself, just try harder. And I did. With everything I had, I tried.

But trying alone is exhausting.
All you ever asked for was to be understood, yet you never turned around to see me reaching for the same thing. My feelings became background noise—too inconvenient, too loud, too much. I learned how to make myself smaller just so the peace wouldn’t break. I learned how to hurt without making a sound.

And now I’m tired.
Tired of explaining myself. Tired of waiting for care that never comes. Tired of loving in a place where my feelings don’t seem to matter.

There are days when the weight of this life feels unbearable, when disappearing feels easier than carrying another ounce of this ache. Not because I don’t feel deeply—but because I’ve felt too deeply for too long without being held in return.

I tried. I really did.
And I wish, just once, someone would see how much that cost me.

Poet Rae

Christmas is loud everywhere but here,I sit with the silence, the table, the cheer—Not mine, but the echo of joy down th...
12/24/2025

Christmas is loud everywhere but here,
I sit with the silence, the table, the cheer—
Not mine, but the echo of joy down the street,
While I’m wide awake, with an empty heartbeat.

My family is near, just a wall in between,
Yet I’m alone in this moment, unseen, in-between.
Chairs tucked in neatly, the plates put away,
While the night gently reminds me I’m not okay.

Outside, laughter dances with firework light,
Colors burst boldly against the dark night.
Families gather, their voices collide,
While I stay with the ache I can’t seem to hide.

This house is so full, yet I feel so small,
A quiet soul leaning against the wall.
A season of joy, of togetherness too,
Still somehow leaves me feeling untrue.

I don’t wish for grandeur, or magic, or gold,
Just a warmth that can reach me, a happiness I can hold.
So tonight I sit softly, and whisper, and pray—
That someday, I’ll feel Christmas… and be happy that day.

page 359 of 365
Poet Rae

I spent so long proving I was strong by carrying everything—every ache, every silence, every unspoken goodbye. I thought...
12/24/2025

I spent so long proving I was strong by carrying everything—every ache, every silence, every unspoken goodbye. I thought endurance was the same as healing. But standing here, letting the weight slip from my hands, I realized strength can also look like release. Some things were never meant to be held forever. Some things are meant to sink, ripple, and finally let the water grow still again.

page 358 of 365
Poet Rae

I let myself smile — and reminded myself to stay grounded.
12/24/2025

I let myself smile — and reminded myself to stay grounded.

We’re talking without reaching back. And somehow, that feels safer.
12/24/2025

We’re talking without reaching back. And somehow, that feels safer.

I spent years mistaking survival for living. I wore strength like armor—heavy, polished, admired from the outside. I sho...
12/24/2025

I spent years mistaking survival for living. I wore strength like armor—heavy, polished, admired from the outside. I showed up, held it together, kept moving even when my chest felt hollow. There was always something to endure, someone to be strong for, another storm to stand in without flinching. I told myself I could rest later. I told myself this was what resilience looked like.

But somewhere along the way, I stopped noticing joy when it passed quietly beside me. I ignored laughter because it felt undeserved. I postponed softness because it felt unsafe. I learned how to carry pain with grace, but forgot how to receive ease without guilt.

It wasn’t that happiness never came. It did. It just knocked gently, and my hands were too full of burdens to open the door.

Now I’m learning that strength doesn’t have to mean constant endurance. That I’m allowed to loosen my grip, to smile without explanation, to choose moments that don’t require bravery. I’m learning that happiness isn’t a reward for surviving—it’s a companion I was allowed to have all along.

page 357 of 365
Poet Rae

I’m not running anymore. But I’m not opening the door all the way either.
12/22/2025

I’m not running anymore. But I’m not opening the door all the way either.

Tonight, I realized something quietly—without tears, without chaos.It isn’t the love I’m longing for. Not the memories, ...
12/22/2025

Tonight, I realized something quietly—without tears, without chaos.

It isn’t the love I’m longing for. Not the memories, not the late nights, not even the what ifs that once kept me awake. It’s something softer, something deeper.
It’s the feeling of safety.

The comfort of knowing you’re around.
The kind of security that doesn’t demand perfection, that doesn’t ask me to perform or pretend. With you, I didn’t have to keep my armor on. I could set my shields down, peel away the masks, and exist as I am—unguarded, uncertain, human.

You saw me in my most vulnerable form and didn’t turn away. You accepted me when I had nothing polished to offer, when my flaws were loud and my strength was quiet. That feeling—the acceptance, the ease, the knowing I didn’t have to be anything else—that’s what I cherish most.

I can let go of the love that once blurred the lines.
I can make peace with the dreams that chose a different ending.
And instead of grieving what changed, I’m learning to be grateful for what remained.

Because the friendship is still here.
The care is still real.
The concern still shows up in small, steady ways.

And tonight, that feels like its own kind of love—one that doesn’t hurt, doesn’t ask, and doesn’t leave.

page 356 of 365
Poet Rae

You’re still my maybe. And I don’t know how to let that go.💔
12/21/2025

You’re still my maybe. And I don’t know how to let that go.

💔

12/21/2025

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

~Mary Elizabeth Frye "Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep."

I’m tired of carrying heartaches that never seem to end. Some days I just want to disappear for a while—to rest, to be q...
12/21/2025

I’m tired of carrying heartaches that never seem to end. Some days I just want to disappear for a while—to rest, to be quiet, to stop hurting. Maybe the world wouldn’t even notice, but I’m still here, trying to breathe through it all.

page 355 of 365
Poet Rae

Someday I’m going to wake up and breathe,without reaching for ghosts I refuse to leave.Not longing for the person I swor...
12/20/2025

Someday I’m going to wake up and breathe,
without reaching for ghosts I refuse to leave.
Not longing for the person I swore I’d be fine to lose,yet kept choosing their absence like a bruise.

I’ll open my eyes without saying your name,
without replaying our fire, our fault, our flame.
My chest won’t ache at the quiet anymore,
won’t beg the past to come back through the door.

Someday my heart will unclench its fist,
stop grieving the love that only half-exist.
I’ll forgive myself for staying too long,
for calling the hurt familiar, calling it strong.
And when that morning finally comes true,
I won’t miss the version of me that loved you.
I’ll rise—still tender, but finally free,
no longer longing for what cost me me.

page 354 of 365
Poet Rae

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Los Angeles, CA

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