I resist the rush
but it names me anyway.
Speed has no memory,
no face
just light breaking into streaks.
I reach,
and touch becomes rumor.
A second fractures
I fall through what was almost mine.
No witness.
No echo.
Just something that happened
too fast
to be real
and too real
to return.
Apr 20
Apr 20, 2026 at 4:46 AM UTC
Distance is my lifestyle,
for loving you from afar
is the safest investment I know.
Tears are my offering,
the most I can give
without ever speaking your name.
Pain is my treasure,
I wear it like armor
polished, practiced,
far away from you.
Love is my myth,
a story told by others
but never lived by me.
Lust is my truth,
because every version of us
is safer
inside my head.
Change is still foreign,
yet your light slips through
cracks I never sealed
lingering longer
than I know how to fight.
And maybe…
I don’t want to fight it anymore.
Apr 17
Apr 17, 2026 at 8:28 AM UTC
Why do I hesitate
to taste the lips of someone new?
Why does thrill feel like a warning
I’m already apologizing to?
Always mapping out an exit,
stitched with careful apologies,
aching to appear unbroken
while my fractures learn to bleed.
And blood-red became my favorite
not bold, just familiar.
Worn like a question
I never answer.
My seasons don’t transition
they collide.
Zero to a hundred
in a breath,
everything to nothing
without a sound.
One minute I’m on a mountain,
lungs wide open in victory
the next, the fall comes quietly,
and I can’t recall the climb.
I want sunlight again,
but patience feels unfinished,
like something I keep pouring
into a cup with no bottom.
My wardrobe is distraction
ballgowns with no stitching,
beauty without feeling,
color without memory.
The bright things are buried now
in rooms I don’t visit.
Even the streetlights I lit in daylight
have burned out without witness.
Fear feels too small a word
but still,
I want to try again.
So I walk with my shadow,
the only one who knows
how often I almost leave,
and still stays.
Apr 16
Apr 16, 2026 at 10:12 AM UTC
I dare to stare into your eyes,
long enough to make you forget
there was ever a before me.
Your story clean, sacred
untouched by ruin.
You speak of forever like it’s certain,
like the unplanned
doesn’t exist.
I dare to stare into your soul,
soft… unguarded.
A fragile kind of beauty
that has never learned
how to break without shattering.
You smile like nothing has ever
asked something from you
and taken more.
I dare to stare into your mind,
wide with untouched dreams.
You have never had to survive them—
only imagine.
No shadows linger there,
no hands that stayed too long,
no echoes that refuse to leave.
I dare to stare into your heart,
whole.
No fractures.
No hidden rooms you’re afraid to enter.
Just light
reckless in its innocence
never tested by storm
or silence.
And still…
I stand here,
knowing exactly what I carry.
So tell me
how long before looking at me
changes
everything you are?
Apr 16
Apr 16, 2026 at 9:39 AM UTC
Pencil on my lips,
Draw me, ****** shy, and real.
Hold me in.
Paint on my skin,
Admire me, wild and still,
Let the feeling in.
Beauty on my tips,
Soak me in, completely,
Until I become your dream.
Whisper in my ear,
Entice me inward,
Unravel me, deep.
Apr 14
Apr 14, 2026 at 7:17 AM UTC
A good-looking man,
an honest smile
direction wrapped in poor presentation.
I breathe in your sedatives,
let the darkness
swallow me whole.
There are no questions left
you are the answer.
And still, I carve into you,
though you are younger.
I crave you
only to ruin your innocence,
to bleed you dry
of everything I envy.
This is my daily ritual:
I draw you in
with a sweetness unseen,
then drain you
of the very essence
I resent.
When I speak, you don’t listen
you hear only what you want.
But I don’t blame you.
That’s how I know
you’re already mine.
Were you a target?
Maybe.
I sip something sparkling
a small sin
for a “good girl” like me.
Still, I indulge.
You are art
meant to be studied, touched, unraveled.
And I
a thief
whispering lies like secrets.
Control was never the plan…
but something as rare as you
begs to be used.
Cards laid bare.
Go on
guess my next move.
All hands on deck
as I deal you a new truth
about women like me.
Apr 13
Apr 13, 2026 at 8:11 AM UTC
It condenses how I dance with deceit,
How much you thought I was really weak.
Stand over there, bask in your “win,”
Laugh out loud — boasting in your gain.
Point your harsh finger while I weep,
Crocodile tears — my daily relief.
I made you a plastic, polished seat,
You sat proud — a “wannabe king.”
Laugh’s on you when you sold it at the feast,
Yet it couldn’t buy your next meal’s piece.
You chased me down to hear me speak,
But ended in prison — my, my, what a deed.
Mar 24
Mar 24, 2026 at 10:01 AM UTC
I wanted to hold your face,
to stare into your eyes and feel alive,
but it was the roughest surface
I had ever known beneath my palm.
For there was a permanent earth upon it
rift valleys, craters,
nation borders carved deep.
And your eyes
void like the dark,
holding nothing but haunted things
still fighting to survive.
I wanted to trace your chest,
map it anew for myself,
but I found handprints
burnt in red,
permanent.
Shallow, yet never filled,
marks that refused to leave,
clinging like memory
after war.
So I asked you to turn,
to hold you from behind
but what I saw there
was worse than what you showed me.
Claw marks deep enough
to make a wolf envious.
Claims etched in flesh
lust, hunger, betrayal
spelled out in silence.
A tale as old as time,
never spoken aloud.
I turned you back,
looked at your hands
cleaned, yet never clean.
Rough. Blood-worn.
Nails crooked like tree roots.
Hands that fix,
yet never heal.
Hands that carry mess,
but are never freed from it.
And though I am inexperienced,
I was curious to know you
but tell me,
would loving you
be twice the labor
for half the truth?
Did you choose me
for my softness,
or were you searching
for another quiet ruin?
You call yourself a builder,
yet you do not know your tools.
So certain in your truth,
you forgot
it takes two
to hold it steady.
And through your red-tinted sight,
you refused to see.
I refuse to build a man
so I refuse you.
You reach to be my hero,
but I choose to be my own.
This is not rebellion
I simply lack the desire
to fix what refuses repair.
Your silence toward yourself
was the loudest warning.
And I am grateful
it was the first thing I saw.
I choose me
without your permission.
Like a bird
that never needed
to ask
before it flew.
I do not hate you.
I simply see you
and that is enough.
Some stories are not meant to be rewritten,
only witnessed…
and gently left behind.
So I release you
to the version of yourself
you refuse to outgrow
and I walk forward,
lighter
than I found you.
Mar 23
Mar 23, 2026 at 8:45 AM UTC
A figment of bliss,
Rotting at the edges,
Sweet only in distance—
In my mindless mind.
A perfect prince—fresh,
Too perfect to breathe,
A love stitched together
From things that never happened,
In my mindless mind.
An endless yard,
Roots choking the soil,
Blooms that don’t wilt—
Because they were never alive,
In my mindless mind.
A gleaming fountain,
Water that never runs dry,
Stagnant beneath the shine,
Whispering lies
In my mindless mind.
A streak so clean,
An infinite loop,
No beginning—no end—
Just repetition pretending to be peace,
In my mindless mind.
Am I losing it,
Or finally seeing it?
This place I escape to—
Is it shelter,
Or a well with no bottom?
Do I need saving,
Or breaking—
To silence the echo
That sounds too much like me?
Because this isn’t longing.
It’s hunger.
Not for love—
But for something
That can prove
I still exist
Outside
Of my mindless mind
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 4:30 AM UTC
A figment of bliss,
A romance so unreal,
Replaying on repeat,
In my mindless mind.
A perfect prince—fresh,
With a love so precise,
Polished into illusion,
In my mindless mind.
An endless yard,
Laced with my favorite blooms,
Watered into freedom,
In my mindless mind.
A gleaming fountain,
Pouring borrowed freshness,
A current untouched,
In my mindless mind.
A streak so clean,
An infinite sequence,
Crossing, recrossing—
In my mindless mind.
Am I unraveling,
Or just too aware?
Do I need breaking
To quiet the spiral
Of my mindless mind?
For is it a sin
To wander the untouched—
To crave what was never held,
Yet feels like memory?
Oh… my mindless mind.
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 4:27 AM UTC