Birdhouses made of wood, crafted by men.
Wooden home, in the wooden branch of the tree, how silly!
To falsely aid what did not need it,
Is a jesters understanding of altruism.
Jan 26
Jan 26, 2026 at 10:44 AM UTC
The depths of my sadness is unbearable and I'm drowning.
I'm reaching, but,
I hide a knife in my hand and it cuts the hand that tries to help me.
Something in me is inexplicably drawn to destruction and I will do everything I can do ensure I will only find peace in sorrow.
Dec 16, 2023
Dec 16, 2023 at 10:21 PM UTC
You think I'm pretty? You don't think I should change?
Not by a single gram I won't, I promise Anna.
It's my friend Anna, she's always here for me.
Anna, I don't want to think, tell me what to do,
Yes, thank you Anna, I'll calculate those for you.
Did you say I look perfect Anna?
I can maintain perfect by being perfect.
I can be precise Anna, I promise, don't leave.
Anna, that's a lot of calculating.
Sorry Anna, you're right, perfection takes hard work.
I'm unafraid of toil.
Anna, I'm worried Anna, I can't stop feeling.
Think? I can over think to stop the feeling.
I'll gladly overthink than to over feel.
You're right Anna, I can numb it.
Anna, I'm craving something.
You're right Anna, I will never have that.
Anna, I never told you what I craved.
I craved love Anna, I craved safety.
I'm hungry for a meaningful life Anna.
Please feed those to me.
Why don't you give me what you promised Anna?
You became a liar Anna, but love is blind and I need you.
Speak for me Anna, lie for me Anna.
Anna others want to feed me, Anna, I don't know what they're feeding me Anna, stop them, it's unsafe where it's uncertain.
Yes, what Anna said, I already ate.
When?
Anna, they're catching on Anna, do something.
Anna, I'm hungry, Anna.
I've been keeping you alive to keep myself dead.
Anna please,
I starved myself, to feed Anna.
Nov 28, 2021
Nov 28, 2021 at 5:57 PM UTC
What is Perfect?
Hitting the 1800.
Remaining between the 400-600.
Using the 1/2 and the 1/4.
Because I will never be 1/1, fully complete.
What will define me? What can define my worthy?
In guarantee, undoubtedly.
Like an object, priced and tagged with money.
Value through digits, simple, observable.
How can someone know if art is worthy of display?
All beauty needs an audience.
Beauty in solitude, is wasted potential.
All beauty, needs, an audience.
How else can you differentiate average, from a masterpiece?
I want to be a masterpiece.
Perfect for every eye.
My eyes see perfect too.
In 1/4, in a 1/2, in a 1800.
In the symmetry of the X, and the curve of the S.
I am eXtra Small.
I am a 53.
Numbers are simple, precise and perfect.
They aren't beautiful, they simply are.
Beauty is abstract, it's grey.
I don't like grey, it's uncertain, unsure.
Grey has room for error.
Grey can't be controlled.
I don't have room for error.
I can only control.
I want to be undeniable.
Perfection, over all else.
Sep 17, 2021
Sep 17, 2021 at 5:51 PM UTC
Forest green with hazel sun, I believe is how I described you once.
Chrysolite, is how I see your eyes, a gemstone.
I found a home in you, I told you once.
I now found a future too, still held in your arms.
My best friend, I called you once.
I find that still true, but now, you’re truly my partner too.
The concepts of soulmates is questionable, we talked about once.
But it is undeniable, the way our chemistry aligns, is short of perfect.
My love, I called you once.
That stands true, and I am still finding new ways to be in love with you.
What I’m saying is, I called you one of the greatest choices I made once.
I hope you know, that will never change.
I found a home, a future, a best friend, a partner, and a lover.
How lucky am I, to have managed to find that, all in one person.
So thank you, once again.
For being my person.
Sep 7, 2021
Sep 7, 2021 at 5:10 PM UTC
Confess, I have to confess.
Who's on the other side of my confessional?
I've thought wrong, I could've thought another, why can't I control what I think?
Confess it, lay your sin.
If I confess my thought, I fear it'll make it real. It's harmless in my head, it's abstract.
But is it?
Look at who you've hurt, the person you love. But never you, why would you care about you?
You should be perfect. Be your best self.
When my best self is deconstructed, all I am is fear.
So confess it, lay your burdens on another.
Be selfish, lay your irrationality for someone else to detangle.
Your strength is fragile, trust me.
I know you,
I know all of you, your deepest fear, your subconscious.
Trust me, you're all that I am.
So confess, give in.
I'm your religion, I'm your truth.
The truth is,
you're not worth love.
Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 6:11 AM UTC
I look, yet I'm blind,
I hear, but I'm deafened.
The radio static in my head is ever so lasting, unfailing.
I can rely on my instability,
my inquisitiveness turned to doubt.
I'm in love, but I can't love.
Have I ever learned to love?
I've always been loved, adored.
When did love become uncomfortable?
I'm the happiest I could've been,
but I'm blind to everything.
My strength is fragile,
I can't live like this.
I can't live when it's me who turns every drop of golden sunshine,
into tar.
Why can't I be happy?
Where are my screws loose?
Have I always been like this?
It can't be love that brought this out.
Something so pure, could not bring this out.
What is it like?
To not lead life with fear, paranoia and panic.
What is it like?
To wake up without sweat, a pounding heart, with a crowded head.
What is it like?
To love another, and oneself at the same time.
What is it like?
To not be me, to not live in constant torment.
Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 6:00 AM UTC
Forest green, with the hazel sun, I analyse your eyes
"What are you thinking?"
Just how exactly have you changed my norm?
Is it how you make me feel at home, belonging?
Is it how you make me feel in love, yearning?
Is it how you make feel at ease, calming?
The existence of you is perplexing
How can you be so caring?
How can you be so tender?
How can you be so forgiving?
How can you be so thoughtful?
How can you know me so well?
I've built walls, you re-constructed them.
I've been silent, you've read my mind.
Sleeping, is something I’ve preferred alone,
you overcame the comfort of my solitude
You and I are a perfect balance
the pragmatic and the intuitive
the diligent and the ardent
The weight of what I feel for you has it's gravity,
There are times when I say
I love you
I tear up
I'm afraid to think anything bad of you,
Because you bring out everything good in me.
You don't change me, you evolve me
I was so worried I'd make a mistake,
I was blinded to the greatest choice I made.
You,
Thank you,
For You.
My love, My home, My Best Friend
I love you
Feb 13, 2020
Feb 13, 2020 at 10:59 AM UTC
The dusty line between my reality and my dreams.
Deep dark blue abyss
Tranquil and terrifying.
Soulful wish of draining my feelings.
Muddy waters filled with confusion, holding hands with shame.
Floating in the grey zone where,
The idea of death makes me long for life,
and the thought of life makes me find comfort in death.
I desire to become a wave.
Part of a whole in the ocean,
curling to the shore and disappearing.
I scare myself with a thought,
the sleep from which I know I can't wake up from,
will be my best one yet.
I fantasise of the day where I can close my eyes,
and let them remain so.
The comfort of knowing I don't have to experience life as, I.
The bright yellow of the sun no longer makes me joyful,
Selfish, I'm selfish.
The sun should not be showing it self to someone like me.
The shine should not be upon my room.
Someone out there is better suited for the sun.
To live every moment, without imagining another one, to damage it.
I wish to exist, only not as me.
I draw my curtains, reject it's warmth.
I don't deserve it.
Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 10:07 AM UTC
I looked outside, the sun is shining where it hasn't for days.
I looked inside, it's been caliginous for months.
The smoke over my tea seems foreign,
My gazes are empty,
My flesh feels hardened.
My thoughts don't haunt me anymore,
we live together, a familiar routine.
It's an odd place to be in,
when you're acquiescent for Departure,
but wary of the destination.
Death will grace us all in a given day,
how to act as a catalyst,
I wondered,
simply, keep your door inviting.
As I sat with a blizzard inside,
a deep sunken calm emerged within.
I asked, "who is it?"
"your solace", it answered.
I asked again, confused, "who is it?"
"your tranquil", it answered.
I asked once again, unsure, "who is it?"
"your Departure", it answered. I smiled.
"What kept you so long?", I asked,
"you have. May I stay?", it asked me.
"You've never left. A perpetual guest is always welcome." I answered.
The sound of violins overcame me,
an odd, fitting melody.
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 10:32 AM UTC