I have spent so long
arranging my edges
into something acceptable
folding the louder parts inward
like paper pressed
too many times
to remember its shape
I learned to smile in ways
that don’t disturb the air
careful
measured
quiet
as if joy itself
might be too much
for rooms that prefer
their silence intact
I became fluent in shrinking
in softening the places
I once spoke from
turning volume into hesitation
and truth into something
easier to swallow
yet something inside me held on
through every quieting attempt
resisting the pull of silence
that sought to erase me
in those depths
I found my flame
and it refused to be dimmed
The Creative Chic
The Creative Chic 
I love this more than I can put into words. It feels like you reached inside me, gathered everything I’ve been feeling but couldn’t express, and gave it a voice—clear, honest, and beautiful.I hope nothing and no one ever dulls your light again. You deserve to burn brightly, always. 🤍
First, thank you for this comment. It means a lot to me to share my heart with lovely souls like you. Second, WE both deserve to burn brightly. You and me. Sending you lots of love, and If you need help lighting your flame, I’ll bring a lighter!
Absolutely!! I’ve got a lighter for you, too 🤗🩷
Also, you’re a beautiful human and I am so grateful the universe aligned our paths!
Hands down, 100%! I am so honored to get to know you, through writing of all things. You know, it takes one beautiful human to recognize another, so thank you ❤️
This feels somehow quite relatable. To not disturb the air.
Or seek that quietude.
Explosivety, dynamism is in my nature. It is in my father’s. It is in my sons.’ From my father i learned an inconveniently juxtaposed need and craving for silence. It conflicts the with the noise inside, but does not. I have made friends with silence, my father never learned her charms. But I struggle with forcing my children into an unwelcome relationship with her, however meaningful It may become for them as had with me.
but that’s enough yaya from me. Your writing is good, and it makes me think. Eat well, be well, be happy.
Thank you for sharing such a thoughtful reflection. The tension between silence and noise you describe really resonates. Silence can be both a refuge and a challenge. It’s interesting how you’re navigating that balance with your children, especially when it’s something they may not immediately understand. I love the way you’ve explored the generational shift in your relationship with silence. It’s a beautiful reflection on growth, both personal and familial.
Thanks again for your yaya 🙂
Thanks. I don’t think it’s for children to understand until later. My pleasure. I have a few poems in the hopper, and some reflections.
Beautiful lines Jennifer ❤️ and those closing ones 👏👏 superb!
Thank you, Maggie ❤️
My pleasure always 🥰
Stay bright, Jennifer.. That last stanza! 💕
I will, if you will! Thank you, Cindy 💕
Absolutely, Jennifer! You can count on it!! 🌟🔆⭐️
Jennifer, your perseverance and indomitable spirit are an inspiration to me. The flame you ignite in yourself is passed on like a torch to others, lighting their fire and instilling hope. Please keep sharing your story, your powerful and poetic voice, and your warm and compassionate soul. I am a fan for life – a fan to your flame. 🔥😊❤️
Tyler, thank you so much. Your kindness and support mean so much to me. I’m only trying to give back what I needed in my life. Never change, Tyler, this world needs so much more of people like you!
Beautiful! So much of me in this poem and we’ve never even met!!! I have to be so careful where I open your e-mails because they nearly always bring tears to my eyes. You’re truly a glorious poet and I’m grateful you share your poems with us. pp
Oh my gosh, what a beautiful comment. I can imagine this is relatable to many. I am so grateful for you being here to share in my passion. It’s been lovely to have you around.
“The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.” – E. E. Cummings
Sometimes this seems to take a lifetime to become reality. Sometimes, maybe even 1,000 lifetimes. But, here we are. Many artists famously suffer for their art, and some of us suffer silently. We put out one version of ourselves that is “Edited.” While, inside, there lives a version that is authentic. Maybe we are too much…too damaged…too busy for others. Or maybe, particularly when true love is involved, we can never be too…anything.
That’s when we can unfold our creases that others had burnished all these years. The heart, like all muscles, atrophies when unused. So, when it is allowed to feel fully, it is sore. It aches.
But not all ache is bad. Some ache is healing. The wick of our candle is burned. It hurts the wick. But that is what the wick does. It’s purpose is to burn in the service of others. To give them light. For those who snuff our lights…the message is clear: dimming someone else’s light, doesn’t make yours burn any brighter.
Our poetry is the wick. Let it serve so we can burn. And only those truly made for us are fireproof.
Maybe love doesn’t ask us to be less, but finally gives us permission to be everything we were told to hide. Not the edited version, not the manageable pieces, but the full, unfiltered truth of who we are. The parts that feel too intense, too complicated, too much suddenly have space to exist without apology. In that space, we start to unlearn the instinct to shrink ourselves, to soften our edges just to be held. That kind of honesty can feel overwhelming at first, even painful, but it is also where something genuine begins to take root. It is where connection stops being performance and becomes presence, where being seen no longer feels like a risk but a quiet kind of return to oneself.
I always LOVE your comments, they mean everything to me. Your beauty is obvious with your words. I am grateful for you in every single way.
This is so moving!
Thank you so much!
This hits home for me in many ways … wow! Well, WELL done!
I’m sorry it does, but at least we aren’t alone in this. Hugs!