I write when I don't speak
Now I've my own library
                                        ~nyn

There we are
Bundles of thoughts and nerves
We plan and script
Burn the midnight oil
Charting paths and mapping
Defining destinations
But then, life happens

And it will

I suppose I could brood
And close tired eyes
Or I could lasso a cloud
And hitch a ride to paradise

If you have to lie, then deep inside,
You already know the truth you hide.
The words you twist, the stories bend,
Can never heal, can never mend.

A shadow creeps with every tale,
A weight that grows with every veil.
The truth, once bright, is lost in gray,
Each step you take leads you away.

You know you’re wrong with every breath,
Each word you speak, a quiet death.
If truth is gone, then so are we-
A bond can’t live on false debris.

If you must lie to make it through,
Then face the truth: it’s not worth you.

We’re in a young-love recession.
Gen Zers are slow to trust and averse to risk,
we have, it seems, a particular social nervousness
about interpersonal exchanges and the symbiosis of love.

So we resort to situationships (undefined relationships),
a stratagem for closeness, with zero commitment.

You can flirt; you can kiss; you can dance.
You can have a crush so big it blots out the stars
You can have transformative romantic encounters
you can care deeply and get hurt badly
you can, in fact, be absolutely wrecked by love
All without ever being in a relationship.

Thank God we’re only young once.
.
.
Songs for this:
Die With A Smile by Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars
Busy Woman by Sabrina Carpenter

Maybe you were never ready
to carry a weight that’s so heavy.
If you can’t set the course,
you’re going to need to follow.
You can bring water to a horse
but you can’t make it swallow.

You have to put your foot down
to ever take a step forward.
From the city back to town,
from space bound to homeward.

But she’s a Medusa with a mirror,
frozen inlove with her own reflection.
You scream your lungs out but even near her,
you’re always ignored;under detection.

Maybe you were never prepared
to share a burden that should never be shared.
It’s been a few years; it’s been some time
since you lodged your last complaint.
I’d like to believe you’re now doing fine,
and you’d like to believe you’re just a saint.

You have to put your foot down
to ever take a step forward.
Follow the air bubbles to not drown
don’t turn a drama into a horror.

But she’s a Medusa with a mirror,
frozen inlove with her own reflection.
If she can’t move will you still fear her,
and her manipulation and deflection?

I sometimes forget Medusa was victim to a curse,
and I never tried to make it better but I sure as hell made it worse.
Maybe Athena could’ve been more forgiving and kind,
she didn’t have to leave her living, or she could’ve made her blind.
She could’ve plugged her ears
so she wouldn’t have to hear the screams
of the men who holds fears
of a woman who dreams.
She could’ve ripped off her nose
or just taken her voice,
sometimes that the way it goes
you just don’t get a choice.

But she’s a Medusa with a mirror,
frozen inlove with her own reflection.
Even if she could scream no one would hear her,
and long ago got used to the rejection.

I’ve come to like it
The loneliness...

It has become
A part of me

I don’t want to
Give it up

You have a circle,
of love declared.
Then comes a triangle
and 2 becomes three.
Worse is the square,
as its four be-known,
I don't fight if you won't.
If I'm nothing to your eyes,
then voices tell me to depart.
I'm way too tired.
to offer my plea.

Words, perhaps—emotions mirrored,
More than letters, they are—reminds the lover.
As the 5, 4, 3 takes over their vows,
Flaunting its beauty,
They embrace one another.

Beauty she is—perhaps a swan,
Gentle he is—perhaps the lake.
A perfect picture they draw together,
As they ring one another—at 5.

A duel now sparks with fury,
Hearts quickly turn to ashes.
None ready to accept their mistake,
“Sorry” hides behind their fate,
While the red thread turns vague.

"Nothing lasts forever," says the bard,
As Romeo and Juliet turn into tale.
The 5 and 4 meet their end—
A mere word, says the very same mate.

“Lover’s quarrel,” says the blonde.
“It’s the ring!” says the brunette.
“Did love ever win the race?”
Questions the bird,
As it fails to accept their fate.

Forgetful they are of their 5, 4, 3s,
The following numbers turning pale.
Now, tell your goodbyes to the poem.
'Cause you see, my love—
Love’s sour, sorry’s burnt, and bye’s bitter.

I shall go; now, you decide—
Whether you will say your 5, 4, 3s,
Or let the past collide.

I've never written a limerick.
Thinking of it makes me sick.
Better a sonnet
or a woman upon it.
Maybe, I'll just play with my ****.

I spent an awful lot of time by myself.
As i wait
Its a lot of time to sit inside this head.
As I wait
For you to hear the screams I'm screaming.
As I wait

she was tranquility in the morning’s early,
  moonbeams dripping red lights
and her eyes shifting softly,
she’s my favorite time of day when she smiles and moans
whispers and sees
she’s my favorite time of day
wrapped in moonbeams
dripping red lights
in my solitude and hers
my peace
   in her...

Someday love,
We'll live down by the sea,
Together for all of eternity.

Someday love,
We'll be away from pestering eyes,
Making a life for you and I.

Someday love,
We'll grow old with our son and daughter,
Joyously watching as they grow.

Someday. . .

"what's wrong with you?"
"nothing."

I internally have this conversation with myself many times a day, sometimes with variations

"what's wrong with you?"
"nothing?"

I like the word preternatural
It's like a bridge between
The achievable
And the functional impossible
What we all might do
Versus some Hellraiser ****
The step that says
I can't believe
You got away with it.

I grieve for my soul,
For the number of times I let people walk over it,
I grieve for my heart,
For letting people in ,
I grieve for myself,
For allowing all the garbage —
The hateful disposal,
To get inside of me,
I grieve...
Yes ,I do ,
With great pain

Let me see the chains you cover
Inspect and figure out
Dissect and dissolve
I may not have the hands of a craft man’s
Or carry the keys of solutions so
Let me do what i can
I will always knock
With your approval wanted,
waiting for the doors creaking and you behind it

I can’t see you like this
My being becomes inflamed

This infatuation will **** me,
let me forget what it is that traps you
Remind me that you’re strength is buried within
Let me dig in when you allow it

My heart was in the place, just
My mind was somewhere else

And then
I said,
"All my poetry
is not
fictional"
putting all
these short
little bursts
of inspiration
in a different
perspective

Another bottle down,
Hoping it can distort truth
Maybe if the mirror’s fogged, it can’t reflect
Can’t show him the middle-aged wreck.

Another chug of warm swill,
Hops molded, no bubbles, flat
Looking at baby pictures and a bag of teeth
Mummy left them, he feels the pain in his jaw
Maybe with another swig, he’ll be rid of it all.

Father watches from his sick bed,
Colostomy bag overflowing,
The excrement covers the scent of shame
As eyes barely raise to see his progeny

No he’s clicking the button to call the morphine
Drips entering to send him to a new dream,
Unable to stand the sight of his kindred,
As the boy that became a man, indigent.

Bryan takes another swig of clotted wine
A Merlot collecting dust upon his desk,
The keyboard is crusted over, white film, flaky
As he tends to his perversions, hoping a spark can awaken

On here he can be anyone,
But his lungs fail to inflate fully
And the liver shrivels to a freeze-dried remnant,
It’s only been minutes, but he shakes
Begging with forgiveness
Needing something to wash down the pittance
One more swig’ll do her!
Another drink to soothe.

As father watches on,
Glazed eyes and singing Aussie songs
He’s ******* post the catheter bag
Flowing yellow rivers down his bedside

Dreams fill his head,
Hoping Bryan dies,
So he could mend and heal,
Watching as he sips forever,
With jaundiced, glassed-over eyes.

If he could write it,
Or murmur sound
He’d say he was disappointed
But all he does is frown

While Bryan,
Consumed with trauma
Caught in his self-made prisons
Drowns in a sea of sick
And cheap bourbon.

Forever a child in a man’s husk
Daddy’s little burden.

There are paths you don’t choose
but find yourself on,
waking one day to realize
you’ve left the voice that once
called you home.

There are people—
beautiful, bruised,
who touched the hem of healing

and stepped back

as if love would demand too much.

And I wonder how God handles
the slow disaster
of the almost-return.
The ones who knew,
who felt,
who started to lean in—
but didn’t.

Does He grieve
like a father who watches
his child walk past the open door,
too ashamed to knock?

Or does He simply wait—
unmoving,
unchanged,
burning with a stillness
only eternity understands?


Because I still ache
in the temporary.
I still hold their names
in my prayers
like broken glass
pressed into palms
that would have held them whole.

connection begins,
where fear ends.

Hole
1.🥚
2.🐣
3.🐓
4.🦃
5.🐔
6.🦆
7.🦤
8.🦉
9.🐧
10.🦩
11.🦋
12.🦜
13.🦚
14.🕊
15.­🦢
16.🐦
17.🦅
18.🐥

Final Score:🪶

some people's footsteps are loud
they want everyone to know that they have entered
or perhaps they have no reason to hide
They strike the ground first with their heel
you can always hear them approach

but mine?
my footsteps are silent
I glide across without a sound
no one needs to know that I am here
I have reason to hide
I tread first with the pads of my feet
you will never hear me approach

To love and to be loved,
Oh how lucky one is to have both.

A warmth that neither time nor tide
Can wear away or coax to loathe.

You are the Sun and the Moon to me,
  The tallest tree,
   The stars and the sea,
    The highest mountain,
     The whitest beach,
      The deepest valley,
       The sweetest dream,
        The tastiest confection,
         The finest wine,
           My best friend.
So hot, you burn me, so airless and frigid, I freeze,
  So high, you’re beyond my grasp,
   Too far away to ever reach, so vast and deep, I’d drown if immersed,
     Impossible to surmount alone,
      There, blinded by the glare, dehydrated by the salty air, burnt by the brutal sun,
       Where I’m forever in the shadows,
        Which will forever be unreal,
         Which rots my teeth and shocks my blood,
          Which I can’t afford,
           Who turned their back.

So many things that
words can never say
                •
Too many words that
just get in the way
                •

Its been a while since the last heart beat
Its been a while since the last sounds of your feet.

My heart was cold as ice and warm as fire
Yet no tear left the crier.

My brain yearned to sob, but my heart froze with hurt.

So its been a while...
Yet no desire has left this crier,
to melt this cold heart, that's warm as fire 🔥 .

I was just a little girl
Watching chaos unravel, helplessly
Confusion became a daily routine
Silence, my only defense
And I honed the art of observing pain.

Day by day
I saved up pieces of disappointment
Until the jar began to crack
Spilling exhaustion
Hardening into quiet rebellion
Sharpening into well-trained disgust.

We stopped looking, even beneath the bed
Where is the sorry we deserved?
Where is the responsibility you clung to so tightly?
Where is all the change you once promised?

But whatever
You're here, technically
And us?
We've mastered the art of needing nothing from you.

i told him how
happiness has always
evaded me

and then he
chased it down
and handed it to me.