HelloLeilaa - Hello Poetry

Growing up, I was a ghost—a ghost full of love camouflaged under pain, the love of bearing what no child should ever be condemned to. Unfortunately, my ghost was finally revealed, with my body barely breathing. Not physically, mentally. My body harbored scars — physical and emotional; each throb, a dagger: Incinerating, crucifying, inexorable. Someone asked me, “Are you self-harming?’’ My heart ripped open. The veins slowly stopped carrying life liquid from the heart’s engine. The color drained from my skin. Every inhale, glass-sharp. Am I going to die? I’m only fifteen; I haven’t even.. My fists rose into shadows, haunted by wraiths, conjured by memories. Blood unraveled through my fractured veins; my energy collapsed over itself with every attack, until I felt paralyzed. — the darkness obliterating my final flicker of light. Voices collided – hers, my inner child, screams, cries for help, tangled in nostalgia, aging faster than time itself. Trauma ages you beyond what years could ever measure. The child within me, silenced by my throat, shackled with terror, The cycle I was born to fracture, rising with strength. Maybe that dream corrupted into a nightmare, etched into reality. Yet in another life, I will reclaim my voice, seize the light stolen from me; Finally, the darkness will tremble — seeing the victim become the ruler.

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Apr 20

Apr 20, 2026 at 12:04 PM UTC

Counting scars

Growing up, I was a ghost—a ghost full of love camouflaged under pain, the love of bearing what no child should ever be condemned to. Unfortunately, my ghost was finally revealed, with my body barely breathing. Not physically, mentally. My body harbored scars — physical and emotional; each throb, a dagger: Incinerating, crucifying, inexorable. Someone asked me, “Are you self-harming?’’ My heart ripped open. The veins slowly stopped carrying life liquid from the heart’s engine. The color drained from my skin. Every inhale, glass-sharp. Am I going to die? I’m only fifteen; I haven’t even.. My fists rose into shadows, haunted by wraiths, conjured by memories. Blood unraveled through my fractured veins; my energy collapsed over itself with every attack, until I felt paralyzed. — the darkness obliterating my final flicker of light. Voices collided – hers, my inner child, screams, cries for help, tangled in nostalgia, aging faster than time itself. Trauma ages you beyond what years could ever measure. The child within me, silenced by my throat, shackled with terror, The cycle I was born to fracture, rising with strength. Maybe that dream corrupted into a nightmare, etched into reality. Yet in another life, I will reclaim my voice, seize the light stolen from me; Finally, the darkness will tremble — seeing the victim become the ruler.

44

Subtitle: They call my people evil; I turn the mirror around, let it shatter by their hardened hearts. I grew up religious, But I do not like religion. I do not specifically like Christianity. This religion claims to “love everyone,” yet when it comes to the LGBTQIA+ community,..? Hearts go cold. Mouths gain the talent of saying extremely hurtful words. Isn’t that a contradiction of the Bible telling believers to “love one another” John 13:34 and the verse James 1:26: “Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless.” Every Sunday, I knelt in pews. My heart is stinging with fear. Fear of God not being able to remove this illness I have— The one that makes me gaze at a girl differently, My eyes light up once my girl’s notification pops up. My true smile. Not the masking one to get people off my back. If this love is a sin, Then let it empower me to sin freely. Let fire burn my skin. Let the perfume of burning flesh awaken my ungiving spirit. Let screams rip through the air— It’s no different from when I was alive on Earth. Boiling with the fear of suffering from the illness of being different. Love was the law, and religion was taught. And yet— love between souls… It was never enough.

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Mar 23

Mar 23, 2026 at 12:09 PM UTC

Crucified by Religion, Liberated by Sin.

Subtitle: They call my people evil; I turn the mirror around, let it shatter by their hardened hearts. I grew up religious, But I do not like religion. I do not specifically like Christianity. This religion claims to “love everyone,” yet when it comes to the LGBTQIA+ community,..? Hearts go cold. Mouths gain the talent of saying extremely hurtful words. Isn’t that a contradiction of the Bible telling believers to “love one another” John 13:34 and the verse James 1:26: “Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless.” Every Sunday, I knelt in pews. My heart is stinging with fear. Fear of God not being able to remove this illness I have— The one that makes me gaze at a girl differently, My eyes light up once my girl’s notification pops up. My true smile. Not the masking one to get people off my back. If this love is a sin, Then let it empower me to sin freely. Let fire burn my skin. Let the perfume of burning flesh awaken my ungiving spirit. Let screams rip through the air— It’s no different from when I was alive on Earth. Boiling with the fear of suffering from the illness of being different. Love was the law, and religion was taught. And yet— love between souls… It was never enough.

29

Dear Jawbreakers, Hard on the outside. Sweet on the inside. Yet, Just because it’s sweet, doesn’t excuse the crimson spread of consequences. Lick, lick, lick, tongue getting sore, representing life, can’t avoid it anymore. Crack Crack Crack. There goes another cracked tooth, but is it just another cracked tooth or is it removing my ability to eat, to smile, to live? My vision, clear enough to see my teeth falling out. I try to stop it and get help from my dentist, but this pull to jawbreakers is too strong. Is there a rehab for being addicted to candy? I got a warning. I haven’t lost all my teeth, but my vision sees I’m losing everything else. Losing space in every trash can, the wrappers building up, my taste buds getting used to this candy, the fruity flavor taking control over me. My tongue is a rainbow, but this isn’t a happy ending. Rainbows start appearing everywhere. These 7 colors, representing different things, but why am I the only one who sees the meaning with candy? This secret. It burns in my chest. The sweet taste, switching to sour with every lick, every bite. The combination of fruit, spice and sweet is so addicting. There’s nothing else that can replicate that taste, the smell, the way my smile increases, my brain sparks happiness. If you don’t have a sweet tooth, you won’t understand. Another appointment to the dentist office. Another lecture about how I have to quit sweets, specifically jaw breakers or else… But, how do you quit when it consumes your mind? What is worth quitting the one thing that helps me when the tunnel is full of darkness? Sitting in that dark tunnel, wondering when that light at the end of the tunnel is coming. The same thing that I claim makes me happy, I have lost friends to it. I have to be the one to destroy this sweet tooth. I lost friends. I can’t lose myself too.

0

Feb 3

Feb 3, 2026 at 11:51 AM UTC

Dear Jawbreakers,

Dear Jawbreakers, Hard on the outside. Sweet on the inside. Yet, Just because it’s sweet, doesn’t excuse the crimson spread of consequences. Lick, lick, lick, tongue getting sore, representing life, can’t avoid it anymore. Crack Crack Crack. There goes another cracked tooth, but is it just another cracked tooth or is it removing my ability to eat, to smile, to live? My vision, clear enough to see my teeth falling out. I try to stop it and get help from my dentist, but this pull to jawbreakers is too strong. Is there a rehab for being addicted to candy? I got a warning. I haven’t lost all my teeth, but my vision sees I’m losing everything else. Losing space in every trash can, the wrappers building up, my taste buds getting used to this candy, the fruity flavor taking control over me. My tongue is a rainbow, but this isn’t a happy ending. Rainbows start appearing everywhere. These 7 colors, representing different things, but why am I the only one who sees the meaning with candy? This secret. It burns in my chest. The sweet taste, switching to sour with every lick, every bite. The combination of fruit, spice and sweet is so addicting. There’s nothing else that can replicate that taste, the smell, the way my smile increases, my brain sparks happiness. If you don’t have a sweet tooth, you won’t understand. Another appointment to the dentist office. Another lecture about how I have to quit sweets, specifically jaw breakers or else… But, how do you quit when it consumes your mind? What is worth quitting the one thing that helps me when the tunnel is full of darkness? Sitting in that dark tunnel, wondering when that light at the end of the tunnel is coming. The same thing that I claim makes me happy, I have lost friends to it. I have to be the one to destroy this sweet tooth. I lost friends. I can’t lose myself too.

51