kinysha

[kinysha]

Hidden Flame 🔥

Your smile sparks like a sunrise breaking through the night,

Your touch is a gentle breeze that stirs my quiet heart.

Every moment with you feels fresh, like dew on new leaves,

In your eyes, I see a love that flows like an endless river.

I keep our memories close, simple treasures in every light.

Deep down, your name hums like my favorite song,

In the still night, our love burns like a hidden flame.

[kinysha]

Rise Even when it HuRTS

Do not doubt yourself.

Not now, not ever.

The world has whispered your insignificance,

sung your failures in familiar voices,

made you question your place,your worth, your existence.

They called you difficult.

Too much to bear, too little to matter.

They waited for you to collapse.

But they do not know you.

They have not seen the wars you survived in silence,

the wounds you stitched alone,

the mornings you pulled yourself from ruin.

No one is coming to save you.

Yet that is not your tragedy,

it is your power.

You are here.

Still breathing.

Still standing.

Let them go, but never leave yourself.

One day, their words will turn to dust in your wake.

Until then,

Rest when you must.

Rise when you are ready.

And remember--You were never broken.

You were only waiting to remember who you were meant to be.

[kinysha]

Rise Even when it HuRTS

Do not doubt yourself.

Not now, not ever.

The world has whispered your insignificance,

sung your failures in familiar voices,

made you question your place,your worth, your existence.

They called you difficult.

Too much to bear, too little to matter.

They waited for you to collapse.

But they do not know you.

They have not seen the wars you survived in silence,

the wounds you stitched alone,

the mornings you pulled yourself from ruin.

No one is coming to save you.

Yet that is not your tragedy,

it is your power.

You are here.

Still breathing.

Still standing.

Let them go, but never leave yourself.

One day, their words will turn to dust in your wake.

Until then,

Rest when you must.

Rise when you are ready.

And remember--You were never broken.

You were only waiting to remember who you were meant to be.

[kinysha]

Raw Freedom

Raw Freedom through endless feeds,

where every like feels like a verdict,

I once trembled at the thought of judgment.

But now,

I speak, I share, I exist

without waiting for approval.

Not for validation, not for perfection,

but to honor my truth, raw and real.

Every like, every comment,

adds a note to the melody of my journey,

reminding me that I am seen.

In this unfiltered moment,

I choose freedom over fear,

my voice rising quietly yet powerfully above the noise.

I celebrate the courage to be unapologetically myself,

inviting you to join me in this honest embrace of life.

Your support fuels my fire of authenticity—together, we rise, unbound by expectations.

Let’s make every interaction a shared victory and a testament to our power to connect and grow.

[kinysha]

Wear It Like Armor

They’ll watch, they’ll whisper, they’ll try to see--what makes you walk so fearlessly.But confidence isn’t borrowed or bought--it’s forged in every war you fought.

It’s the steel in your spine, the fire in your chest,the voice that says, I am my best.No doubt, no fear, no second-guessing--just standing tall, no false confessing.

So wear it like armor--let them stare,you don’t shrink, you don’t compare.For when you move like you own the ground,the world steps back--without a sound.

[kinysha]

"Sacrificed Silence"

Why do we choose silence

When our hearts cry out to speak?

Why do we bow, bending low,

To every word we didn’t seek?

Why bury our truths so deep,

Forgetting who we are?

In every gathering, they find fulfillment,

But we are left with scars.

The weight of their dreams presses on us,

While we fade, unseen, unheard.

We silence our cries for peace,

Choking on every word.

But no one asks how we feel,

Drowned by the weight of their dreams,

While ours are forced to kneel,

Unheard, silenced, unseen.

We can't voice our pain,

Because we've learned to stay still.

You chose to silence our souls,

While we are broken against our will.

And in the end, who do we become?

Living in the shadows of their eyes.

But no longer will we be bound—

Silence is no longer the only sound.

I can’t even voice my pain,

Because I’ve learned to stay still.

You chose to sacrifice me,

But I will rise against my will.

[kinysha]

"I Was Never Meant to Survive"

They wrote my name in quiet rooms,

sealed it inside walls I never built,

tied it to a fate I never chose.

I was meant to kneel,

meant to follow,

meant to obey,

meant to disappear into a story that was never mine.

But I?

I ripped the script from their hands,

walked through the wreckage,

barefoot, bleeding, unwanted.

They whispered unbreakable as they watched me splinter.

Called me strong when I swallowed silence instead of screaming.

But tell me—

what kind of strength is built on suffering?

I stood in the wreckage of who I was,

palms bloodied from holding on too long,

lungs choking on the smoke of what I couldn’t save,

waiting for mercy that never came.

But silence doesn’t hand out mercy.

And when the world begged for my obedience,

for my silence,

for my surrender—

I laughed.

Not because I was fearless,

but because I was done being afraid.

But let me tell you something they will never say:

I did not survive out of strength.

I survived because even breaking wasn’t an option.

Because even when I wanted to break,

to disappear,

to let go—

Even when I begged to disappear,

life kept dragging me back by the throat.

So now I stand.

Not whole.

Not healed.

Not forgiven.

Just here.

And sometimes, that's enough.

[kinysha]

"Not the End"

I stand in the ruins of dreams once bright,

Scattered like stars lost to the night.

Once, they were golden, untouched, whole,

Now fragments whisper—was this my soul?

I wanted to believe, control everything,

To calm myself, to silence the sting.

But these habits drain, they pull me deep,

Giving me exhaustion, not strength to keep.

The weight of broken yesterdays grows,

Like vines that tighten, never let go.

Yet somewhere beneath this endless ache,

A part of me fights, refusing to break.

I used to think escape was the way,

That freedom meant running, turning away.

But what if survival isn’t flight?

What if it’s standing—alone, but upright?

I don’t have answers, I don’t have peace,

I only have days that refuse to cease.

And maybe that’s enough for now—

Not a grand return, just a quiet vow.

To take what’s left, to make it mine,

To shape a life that doesn’t confine.

Not the one I lost, not what I planned,

But something real—built by my hands.

No perfect arc, no sudden fix,

No waiting for fate to make sense of this.

No neat redemption, no grand reveal,

Just breath in my lungs and the fact that I feel.

This is not the end.

This is me—still here.

[kinysha]

Sleep is not an escape—

because it does not erase what lingers in the waking world.

It only presses pause, never stop,

only soothes, never heals.

It is when exhaustion silences the noise,

where I float between forgetting and remembering,

how I disappear, not to be free,

but to gather the strength to face it all again.

[kinysha]

"I don’t want anything from you… nothing at all.

Not your time, not your words, not even your gaze lingering on me.

Desires are fleeting, and I’ve learned to walk without expectations.

And yet… isn’t it strange how the heart betrays its own wisdom?

How my eyes still search for you in a crowded room,

how my voice softens when I speak your name?

No, I don’t need anything.

But if you ever find yourself offering,

"Perhaps I was always meant to receive"

And if I do, I might just forget how to refuse."

[kinysha]

The Smell of Ashes

I was burning—

not with flames that begged for rescue,

not with screams that shattered silence,

but with a quiet fire,

slow and unseen,

curling through my ribs,

filling my lungs with smoke,

turning my thoughts to drifting embers.

I thought someone would notice.

Surely, they would pause,

catch the weight in my breath,

see the tremor in my hands,

feel the heat pressing against their skin.

So I waited.

For a glance and a question,

that never came,

for a voice to break the silence,

for someone to reach through the smoke

and see me standing there—burning.

But they only winced,

wrinkled their noses,

stepped away.

"What is that smell?"

"Why does ruin cling to you?"

"Why do you look like that?"

They never saw the fire.

Only the ashes it left behind.

For so long, I whispered into the smoke,

"See me. Feel this. Say something."

But the wind carried my words away.

So I stopped waiting.

Stopped searching their faces

for something they were never going to give.

The fire had taken enough.

I lowered my hands,

let the ashes slip through my fingers,

and watched the wind take them too.

No longer pleading,

no longer searching—

just breathing in the stillness,

letting the embers settle,

knowing, somehow,

I would rise again.

[kinysha]

"The Void in Me"

I talk to everyone,

but no one fills this emptiness inside me.

Their words touch my ears,

but never my heart.

I blame, I criticize,

as if their absence is the reason I feel hollow.

But is it them,

or is it me?

I lie, I speak,

but my voice doesn’t feel like mine.

I shift between faces,

molding myself to the moment,

to the person standing in front of me.

I tell one truth,

then swallow another.

Which one is real?

I try to escape,

but the void is not behind me—it is inside.

It does not chase me;

it waits, patient, knowing I will always return.

I reach for something true,

but my hands pass through empty air.

I whisper to the silence,

but even it does not answer me.

And so I sink—

not knowing if I am drowning,

or if I was the ocean all along.

[kinysha]

THE FIRST YES TO MYSELF

Doubt lingers, a shadow in my mind,

Whispering— "Are you sure?"

"What if they’re right? What if I’m wrong?"

"What if saying no means losing everything?"

"What if I disappoint them beyond repair?"

I see it—the storm I fear,

Lightning striking, voices rising,

Eyes filled with judgment,

Doors closing behind me forever.

The weight presses, the fear grows—

But then, a pause. A breath.

"What if… I don’t have to obey?"

"What if my ‘no’ is not a mistake, but freedom?"

I stand. I speak.

And the world does not shatter.

No storm, no fury, no collapsing sky.

Only silence, only space—

Only a quiet victory, a breath of relief.

And in that silence, something new—

Not loneliness, but lightness.

Not exile, but a path I hadn’t seen before.

A step away from fear, a step toward myself.

[kinysha]

The Weight of Silence

"Maybe the pain has settled too deep,

No longer sharp, just mine to keep.

When wounds turn scars, they cease to scream,

Yet linger still—like a half-lived dream."

"Maybe I’ve carried too much, too long,

Numb to the weight, deaf to the song.

Or maybe I’m searching for something more,

A pain that shakes me to the core."

"But tell me, what would make me feel?

A truth unspoken, a hurt more real?

Or is it that, in all I’ve known,

I’ve learned to stand—but feel alone?"

[kinysha]

"I’ve fallen in silence,

held by the weight of unseen wars—

but even in shadows,

I find my feet,

and rise again."

[kinysha]

" I sat in my dim-lit room at 2 AM,

pressing ink onto paper like pressing wounds,

weaving heartache into something gentle—

as if poetry could soften the weight of the past."

[kinysha]

"The Unnoticed Cost"

Sometimes, we give so much to others,

forgetting our own needs along the way.

We stop asking the hard questions

and fall into the rhythm of simply responding.

"Yes" or "No."

"Yes" brings praise;

"No" brings reflection.

We offer blessings,

but only when they align with our hearts.

Yet, when the roles are reversed,

why is it so hard to offer the same?

This world is full of exchanges,

where everything comes at a cost,

even the kindness we offer.

But learning to embrace who we are

becomes the truest act.

Because in the same situation,

you can be both good and bad,

depending on who’s judging.

It’s all part of the same story.