The walls of the rooms you used to haunt were a canvas I strived to erase. I trace my fingers down the corridors you used to roam ever so freely—reminiscing about the hours spent cleaning your fingerprints off the wall. I try to remake the same ones you created but it’s no use; no one can create such idyllic art. The room you take up in my mind feels overwhelmingly crowded despite your existence ceasing to exist.
1d ago
Jun 2, 2026 at 11:25 PM UTC
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
Apr 3
Apr 3, 2026 at 11:43 AM UTC
Her hair fell in long auburn waves, cinnamon and chestnut, woven in a voracious flame.
Strawberry speckled spots ran across her cheeks, blushing so vividly, it made her appear meek.
Those curious brown eyes, sparkling in light, when illustrated—quite a sight.
With sundry shades, are the browns to crave.
Latibulating in shadow, among her hand-crafted grave.
Apr 2
Apr 2, 2026 at 9:10 PM UTC
carve your soul into my flesh
embrace me till i’m mesh
iron my wrinkles
paint over my imperfections, for i am your messy canvas that needs polishing
relish the silence after the tornado
detect what wasn’t wrecked
permit me to carve my soul into your flesh
inasmuch I want us mesh
Mar 5
Mar 5, 2026 at 12:07 AM UTC
Don’t whelve away the pain
bit by bit breaking
there is no end gain
you dragged yourself to a stage
but there’s no one in the rows
I learned the word umbrescence
so I had an excuse to take the blows
Jan 31
Jan 31, 2026 at 12:35 PM UTC
“Words like violence, break the silence.”
I invite them in.
The cuts hurt, but at least there’s proof —
something existed when they scar.
It runs, feels, and is deep.
Ugly, but real.
“Words are meaningless, and forgettable.”
Yet they haunt me.
Consume me.
Their words reveal their minds;
their actions expose their hearts.
“Words are very unnecessary.”
Maybe.
But silence hurts too.
Nov 10, 2025
Nov 10, 2025 at 7:41 PM UTC
I lie in my bed as I reminisce about my terrible day, lost in rumination. Rain pattering on the windows—fast and hard, marking their territory. The thoughts in my head creep into my brain as the rain creeps into the air after a sunny day. Unnecessary, disappointing, and a constant cycle. They tarnish all the bright moments and I can’t escape it. The rain will continue to pour down and “ruin” sunny days, as will my thoughts derived from my head. It’s inevitable, and I can’t do anything about it. Sure, I can use an umbrella and act like the rain isn’t pouring down on me, like my thoughts aren’t unmaking me. But I know that’s not true. The umbrella does too—that’s why it eventually caters to the storm, leaving me soaked. I will never be dry, not fully. Not fully protected from the rain, the thoughts, and the storms that come along with it. Thus leaving me exposed and endlessly drenched.
Nov 10, 2025
Nov 10, 2025 at 7:36 PM UTC