Said the woman,
with her trendy haircut,
colors of the season,
modern attitudes.
“I’m not like the others,”
wearing her tribe’s symbols,
Needing aproval,
Marking her skin with the same icons;
like words of the same language.
“My personality is unique,”
yet if they all spoke at once,
they would form a choir of millions
Millions, searching for individuality
through the same path.
May 28, 2025
May 28, 2025 at 1:01 PM UTC
in the serenity of the night
Peace
At last
Men are sleeping
Cats, exploring
Mice seek their sustenance, as men will do at dawn
Insomnia,
Those awake enjoy
The peace
Of the night
May 5, 2025
May 5, 2025 at 9:41 PM UTC
I am weird
Born weird
I am the only one who sees it?
Can I fake it?
Can I hide it?
Everyone wears a mask.
Some hide feelings,
Others hide desires.
But mine...
Mine is different.
It hides not what I feel,
Not what I want...
But who I am.
To hide who I am:
Differently weird.
May 1, 2025
May 1, 2025 at 9:43 PM UTC
I am weird
Born weird
And in the desperate urge not to be
I tried to take another form —
A shape made from a mold that wasn’t mine.
And the pain of not fitting into what was expected off me…
Turned into despair.
Claustrophobic, crushed
Inside a mold that was never made for my shape.
And the pain?
The pain of the molds
Was greater than the despair itself.
Still, I go on
Still…
Weird.
Apr 30, 2025
Apr 30, 2025 at 3:42 PM UTC
I am weird
Born weird
Since the first breath
Since the first blink
I knew it.
I felt it.
I was… weird.
And with the weirdness
Came the pain
The pain of knowing
The pain of self conscious
The pain of being... weard
And in that pain
A cold, cruel hope—
To change.
Change.
Change…
…
Impossible.
Change.
Apr 29, 2025
Apr 29, 2025 at 9:01 PM UTC