i can’t beg without ripping something out of myself. every time i hope, it hurts. every time i try to be “enough,” i lose a piece of me.
i can’t keep showing up to be ignored. can’t keep softening my voice just to make space for his silence.
i’ve cried in rooms he never even walked into. screamed in silence while he laughed somewhere else.
he doesn’t see me. not really. not the way i need. and maybe he never will.
but god, i tried. i tried to hold my breath long enough to be what he wanted. i tried to be small, quiet, simple. i tried to prove i was worth staying for.
but i can’t keep bleeding just to keep his hands clean.
he won’t love me the way i need. and i can’t keep pretending that’s okay.
I miss you like we had something, like I held a title I never wore. Like your silence was a language I kept trying to translate into love.
We were never “together,” but I showed up like I was. Softened my voice, waited on texts, folded parts of myself small just to fit the space you offered— and even that felt like home for a while.
I loved you in the in-between, in the pauses, in the maybe somedays and not yets. I gave you my care without conditions— you gave me confusion dressed as closeness.
So how do you grieve someone you never had? How do you explain the pain of being almost chosen?
Still, I’m learning that almost love isn’t the same as being loved.
I know I’m fine. I know I’m smart. I know I turn heads when I walk into a room. I know the power I carry. I know the softness too. I know how to smile when everything inside me is shaking. I know how to act like nothing ever touched me.
But still…
I doubt. I overthink. I replay shit that already broke me just to see if maybe it was my fault. I wonder if I’m too much, or not enough, or both at the same time.
I flirt like I’m fearless. I laugh like I’m not hurting. I say “I know” when they tell me I’m beautiful but deep down I’m asking, would you still think so if you saw the mess I carry?
The part of me that didn’t leave, that didn’t fight hard enough, that stayed quiet, that smiled just to get it over with.
I know I didn’t deserve it. But sometimes I still feel like I did.
Sometimes I feel hollow. Sometimes I feel numb. Like my body isn’t mine, just something I keep moving to make it through the day.
All I have is my pen and my paper, When the words won’t come, and silence screams, I turn to the page, where I can breathe, Where thoughts spill out like shattered dreams.
My mouth is tight, my voice feels small, But in the ink, I can steal it all— The clutter, the noise, the endless fight, Bouncing words like shadows in the night.
They tell me to be alone, to forget the past, To learn to love myself, make it last. But how can I, when doubt wears me thin? I fight a war inside, unsure where to begin.
Imposter syndrome, cold and real, Makes me question the woman I feel— I know who I am, but the fear runs deep, I’m Shavesha Steele, but can I even keep The strength I’ve built, the life I’ve made, When doubt’s grip keeps me afraid?
I am more than the weight I carry, More than the scars that still make me wary, Even when the world says, “You’re not enough,” I will rise, even if it’s hard, even when it’s rough.
Share a lesson you wish you had learned earlier in life.
A Lesson I Wish I Had Learned Earlier in Life
Looking back, the one lesson I wish I’d learned much sooner in life—or rather, that my parents should have instilled in me—was the burden of constantly “wearing a mask.” For years, I found interacting with people utterly exhausting, and I couldn’t figure out why. Now I realize it was because I was never truly being myself. I was always hiding behind a façade, pretending to be who I thought others wanted me to be. I wasn’t just afraid of being open or vulnerable—I was conditioned to believe that being myself was somehow wrong. Every time I showed my true self, it was met with criticism or disapproval, making me retreat even further behind the mask.
In my downtime, I finally felt at peace. Alone, I could drop the act, and for a moment, I could just be—no expectations, no pressure to live up to anyone else’s standards. I didn’t have to worry about disappointing anyone or feeling like I wasn’t enough. It was a brief but liberating escape from the constant performance I put on in front of others.
But what I wish I had understood earlier is how deeply I had tied my sense of self-worth to the attention of others. I equated attention with love, care, and approval. If someone wasn’t giving me their attention, I assumed it meant their feelings toward me had changed. That lack of attention made me feel insecure, like I wasn’t enough without their validation.
I see now how damaging that mindset was. It kept me in a cycle of seeking external validation instead of finding it within myself. I wish I had realized sooner that love isn’t about constant attention. True love, real care, doesn’t have to be flashy or always visible. And more importantly, the validation I was chasing from others was something I should’ve been giving myself all along.
If I could go back, I would teach my younger self that you don’t need anyone’s approval to feel worthy. I’d tell myself to take off the mask, to stop pretending, and to trust that I am enough as I am—without needing to perform for others. I wish I had learned earlier that it’s okay to be vulnerable, and that real connection comes from showing up authentically, not from trying to be perfect or constantly seeking attention.
The sooner we learn to love and accept ourselves, the sooner we can experience genuine peace and fulfillment. I wish I hadn’t waited so long to embrace this truth, but I’m grateful that I’ve finally learned it now.
But hey, better late than never, right? So, here’s to unmasking, embracing the awkwardness, and learning to just be me.
Until you’ve walked in another’s shoes, You’ll never know the depth of their blues, Surrounded by faces, yet so alone, In a constant state, always on the roam.
Body feels numb, a chilling embrace, I want to feel something, but can’t find a trace. Told myself I’m strong, that I won’t succumb, But the weight of it all, has me feeling numb.
I feel everything, but it's all too much, Heavy on my heart, a ceaseless touch. I long to escape, but the path is unclear, Trapped in this zone, with no end near.
Her rare interior so smooth and delicate But her outside , damaged and crude She’s like the Saturday night blues A few hits and now’s she’s on snooze Oh, my dear wonda, if only they knew The beauty that lies within you If only they could see The strength and grace you possess Instead of judging based on what they see But fear not, wonda I’ll keep your true essence shining through And I'll help you radiate brightly Like the magnificent star that you are
In the void of my mind, you linger, you stay A haunting presence that won't go away Absent in flesh, but present in spirit A constant reminder of all that I fear
Your whispers, like knives, cut deep in my soul Aching, throbbing, taking its toll You're a shadow, a specter, a weight on my chest A never-ending torment that won't let me rest
You cloud my thoughts, distort my perception Leaving me drowning in a sea of deception Your absence suffocates, a crushing despair Leaving me gasping for a breath of fresh air
I try to break free, to escape from your grasp But you're a relentless foe, a never-ending rasp You're the one who is absent, yet always near A constant reminder of my pain and my fear
But I'll keep fighting, even when it's hard I'll find a way to mend my broken heart For though you may linger, torment my mind I'll rise above the pain, leaving you behind.
This poem reflects the struggles of battling with the persistent presence of negative thoughts and emotions. I try to describe feeling haunted by a ghostly presence that lingers in my mind to reflect pain, despair, and a sense of suffocation. Despite the overwhelming weight of these feelings, I express at the end determination to push through the darkness and find a way to rise above the torment. The title "In the Shadows of Sorrow" encapsulates the theme of grappling with inner turmoil and seeking to overcome it as life can weigh us down sometimes it it’s important to know our shadows can be our strengths too
Dose of chevvi 