The world is seen by eyes alone and lost,
And up above afraid the stars shine not.
Oh what’s a life when we ignore the cost?
So here are we, committed to the naught.
The birds are gone the sky a soundless void,
And down the flies do fall like tears once cried.
We thieve and take until we’re tired, thus cloyed,
We are what we become, we cannot hide.
Our morals were outbought to be resold.
And our great loves were left outside to rot.
Our home abandoned by the hands we hold,
We never tried — we are the bloodless clot.
There are no eyes left now to view the stars.
While we are lost, their shine will heal our scars.
May 17
May 17, 2026 at 3:29 PM UTC
In every sense of the matter,
And in ever moment,
Of every day.
The only thing,
I've ever known,
Is how to jump up,
And scream,
"Please."
"I am still here."
Apr 30
Apr 30, 2026 at 12:15 AM UTC
I've ripped into my chest,
With nails so brittle and torn
And scratched out my veins,
Carving the rivers of blood
Into chasms of red turned still.
My wounds would fester,
Like lakes buried underground,
The pit left inside my heart
Became catacombs to climb.
Fingers gashed to make space
For me to explore my bones,
And forever within I could journey
Without even making a sound.
In time Death will come to find,
That its pain is unable to take me.
Nothing can surpass my enduring,
And I will survive my own autopsy.
Mar 24
Mar 24, 2026 at 12:01 AM UTC
I carry a sharpened blade with me,
Wherever my tired feet may wander.
A knife of everlasting sterling silver,
Brandished by old hands so very scarred.
On the edge are darkened crimson stains
Dripping down on leather betwixt fingers.
The past memories flow like molten iron,
A testament to the marathon of my own life.
Many times before, I have put down arms,
And sacrificed the scalpel for dissection.
Uncareful hands left my own bloodied,
With no bayonet to protect the peace.
And as much as the slashes stung skin,
I'd lower my weapon again a thousand times.
To love is to invite war bravely inside,
And to be loved, is to lick blood off knives.
Feb 24
Feb 24, 2026 at 4:21 PM UTC
Lay me down in a field of flowers,
So I can breathe in the grass as it grows.
I've made my trek a thousand miles,
In a willful traipse of bloodied bones.
I've built my sward to survive the stories,
With high walls of bramble and fern.
Protect my body and cage my mind,
Let me live in quiet hushed sorrow.
May a river of tears flow from my head,
And nurture the land born of my flesh.
Have all of the tales that I have read,
Exist inside of me for now and eternity.
Here in the safety of my thicket of thorn,
I've graciously lived one thousand lives.
Here in the respite of the mind's forest,
Sweetly, will I die one thousand deaths.
And please, when I am finally gone,
May my body plant the seeds,
Of next millenium's stories.
Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 11:20 PM UTC
Healing,
Should not be a climatic event,
Nor an epiphany,
Of your life's meaning.
Recovery,
Should be waking up on a Tuesday,
And feeling,
Like you're finally okay.
Feb 9
Feb 9, 2026 at 7:15 PM UTC
There is a timeline,
Eons from when we stand,
Where the sky is ocean-dark
And the moon cries tears
Of a high frequency whale.
There are no epitomizing speckles,
Of light so brilliant white.
Only a blackness so devoid,
That even apathy is wounded
By the mere sight of it all.
There, night devours the Earth,
With no glittering beams,
That lighten and heat the blue.
She succumbs to the ice,
And nothing becomes everything.
There, the moon screams —
It's cold and it is dark.
It's dead and I'm lonely.
And please,
It's so very dark.
There, in that timeline,
Not far from when we stand
You and I, together can see
The world where it stands,
Gone, decayed like the suns,
Not a ****
Nor a star,
Left alive
For us
To wish.
Feb 9
Feb 9, 2026 at 3:10 AM UTC
There is heartbreak littered throughout
Every part of me.
And that is so bittersweetly because,
Every piece is made up
Of everyone,
I have ever loved.
Dark deepened cuts and scratches
Of memories always to remain,
As a scrapbook of lost history,
Written on the walls of mine
Like a manuscript of everyone,
I have ever loved.
This tragedy bleeds and it bites,
Hurts and it stings — never content,
I scream and cry but for an echo,
I'll let it heal over and stay,
Lest I forget, of everyone,
That ever loved me.
Feb 6
Feb 6, 2026 at 10:17 PM UTC
I have an old soul,
That's what they've always said.
As a kid I took the compliment and wore it with pride,
Mature, quiet, sometimes bold, all things, one should strive to be.
But oh, how I misunderstood
Only now do I realize, that it wasn't an accolade, but rather a warning.
They just knew,
I was always doomed to be a little bit sad.
I cried many tears as a child,
And silently more as a teen.
As an adult the tears a few, but the weight is heavy.
Though the burden I carry, is no longer my own.
In my hands I carry the weight of all the lonely things, we've created to disown.
Books without creases; Planes without grime,
Where are the signs that they have been used?
The signs that tell us they were loved?
What's the point of spending your life on a piano grand,
If it's only to look at, and never to touch?
On my keys is a key chain, disfigured and maimed.
Broken and lonely because I bought it that way.
I bought it because I was afraid it would never know love like the others on the rack.
The teddy bear with rips, the porcelain doll with no feet and even the outdated encyclopedia, that needs four shelves of space.
I hold them all dear to me,
And have wept silently at the thought of their loss.
I'll protect them forever in the cage around my heart
And I'll build them house of memories with the love from my old, sad soul.
Jan 23
Jan 23, 2026 at 1:35 AM UTC