Chaos Wrapped in Velvet

Manifesto of the In-Betweeners.
This is for anyone who doesn’t fit neatly in boxes,
for the creative who can write code,
for the engineer who aches to paint,
for the ones who feel too much and think too deeply.
It’s a poem for those of us who are always dancing between –
logic and longing,
structure and softness,
metrics and metaphors.

A spoken word poem for those caught between heart and head.
This is your permission to be both.

I used to think

it had to be one or the other:

the straight line, or the runaway scribble,

the equation or the ache,

the clean grid or the gut feeling,

but life never handed me that –

just a rhythm

I couldn’t quite count,

one moment,

I’m calculating outcome,

measuring steps,

tightening the bolts on what makes sense,

and the next –

I’m writing in the margins,

chasing thoughts that don’t resolve –

just float,

just dissolve

into a chaos wrapped in velvet,

speaking in metaphors

while formatting quarterly metrics.

It’s like trying to dance

to two songs at once –

one in 4/4,

one freefall,

and somehow,

I move,

not gracefully,

but honestly.

There’s this tug –

the part of me that needs answers

pulling against the part

that only wants to feel it all

without having to explain a damn thing,

and in between – my home,

that’s where I live –

in motion, inside,

that’s where

I’ve learned to let the silence speak

in formulas,

let the structure bend

just enough to let the wind in.

Some days I build,

some days I unravel,

but every damn day I show up,

and I meet myself there, in the middle –

where the sharp edges soften,

where the unknown is my friend.

I never needed perfect balance –

just enough breathing space

between longing and logic,

always moving

off-beat,

in rhythm with myself.

Be Alive 🌱
Love ❤️, Julia

Rhyme & Reason

Ripped (what it’s like to watch someone you love get taken)

Strangers (the math we do in checkout lines)

Thread (for everyone still scrolling up)

[section label="Regret, You Silent Sculptor"] [row style="small" v_align="equal" h_align="center"] [col span="7" span__sm="12" span__md="6" animate="blurIn"] Grooves Regret works in the dark. Chisel and mallet, carving valleys in my chest, grooves in my mind, hollows I didn't know were there until I fall into them. It shapes with "what if," with "if only," with the door I didn't walk through, the call that went to voicemail, the words that sat in my throat and stayed there. It keeps reworking my memories, pressing new grooves over old, until I can't tell anymore which version I lived and which one it made. The groove gets deeper. The chisel returns to the same line. I feel it wearing through and I hold still for it like I'm helping. But my hands are moving too. On different clay. Something regret hasn't touched yet. Two sculptors. Same room. One facing what was. One facing what's here. Neither puts down their tools. [gap height="10px"] [ux_text font_size="0.75" text_align="left"] (2018, © Julia Delaney) [/ux_text] [/col] [col span="5" span__sm="12" span__md="6"] [ux_image id="27223" image_hover="glow" depth="1" animate="blurIn"] [/col] [/row] [/section] The past is already carved. What matters is who's holding the chisel now... Be Alive 🌱 Love ❤️, Julia [section bg="24103" divider_top="waves-opacity" divider_top_flip="0" divider_top_to_front="0" divider="waves-opacity" divider_flip="0"] [ux_text text_align="center"] more from this hour: [/ux_text] [gap] [blog_posts style="default" type="row" col_spacing="xsmall" columns="3" columns__md="1" depth_hover="5" animate="blurIn" ids="27202,8949,27229" show_date="false" excerpt="false" comments="false" image_height="56.25%" image_hover="glow" image_hover_alt="zoom"] [/section] [block id= "poetry"] [block id="disclaimer"]

Thrown (you thought you were falling apart…)

It Gives Me Away

A poem about regret that reads like a document stuck on track changes: red notes, rewritten lines, the cursor dragged back, and an undo button that only goes so far

Auto-Edit (regret, rumination, self-blame)

Volcano’s Heart - a raw truth about Grief and Anger

When Love Needs to Burn (a raw truth about the anger stage of grief)

When Someone Sees You for Who You Are

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