Every night I lay in bed, thinking,
Of the stars i did not reach.
Thinking of the words I did not speak.
Staring at the ceiling wondering,
If this is how I want to spent my life,
Not knowing how to fulfill a purpose.
I ask myself if this is happiness,
Or just a way to pass the time,
Living a life that doesn’t feel like mine.
So I get on my knees and I pray,
Asking God if He wants to stay with me.
And if He will help me through the day
But when I wake up in the morning,
Without a second thought I breath and smile,
And join the day only to wonder again in the evening if He was with me.
Apr 26
Apr 26, 2026 at 7:44 AM UTC
I once dreamt a dream,
where I stood watching
and I saw widows crying, children dying.
Anger. Riots. Rage.
Ruins and smoke,
bombs falling, fragments calling.
Pain. Depression. Violence.
Broken houses, cities erased.
Bodies scattered everywhere, unnamed.
Countless lost.
Death. Death. Death.
I see the richest shade of red lipstick smeared into the earth.
So much of everything,
and still, death.
Apr 21
Apr 21, 2026 at 4:45 AM UTC
Dear diary,
let me tell you a story
about a girl with a basic day—
simple, ordinary, without worry.
She stepped outside without care,
and there she saw a trauma helicopter
flying across the sky.
Minutes later, she waited for math class,
scrolling on her phone,
waiting for the lesson to start.
Then she froze. A text appeared.
Her laugh turned to shock,
her chest tightening with fear.
Her friends asked if she was okay,
but she didn’t answer.
She walked away, trying not to break.
They followed, and she showed the text,
trying not to cry, not to react.
“Cardiac arrest,” it said.
Immediately, the helicopter replayed
over and over in her mind.
Her little nephew, just one year old,
fighting for his life,
and she wept,
hoping he would stay alive.
He had a cardiac arrest from a cold,
and even if he survived,
they warned, it could happen again.
Then, half a year later,
he could breathe on his own again.
She thought the storm had passed,
that the danger was gone.
But the shadows lingered,
and the complications had only just begun.
Apr 7
Apr 7, 2026 at 3:57 PM UTC
On the days I dare to believe I’m meant to fly,
Hope flickers softly, then fades as shadows pass by.
My deepest dream is not woven of clouds or butterflies,
But quiet mornings untouched by tears in my eyes.
A life where joy stands steady, unshaken, unguessed,
Where my heart learns the language of stillness and rest.
Somewhere beyond the noise, the struggle, the strain,
I find at last a heart that is truly unchained.
Mar 30
Mar 30, 2026 at 1:09 PM UTC
I closed my eyes once and dreamt,
I dreamt of the end of the beginning,
Of a breaking tide untouched by pain,
Of streets of gold. Heaven.
I wandered through that world of gold,
Until I came upon a narrow bridge.
A few small steps—and there I stood,
Suspended in its silent middle.
Before me, figures moved toward me. Falling.
I lingered there, confused, unknowing,
Why they fell, while I walked untouched.
More souls slipped past me, endlessly—
All but a single, quiet girl.
She came to me, smiled, and took my hand.
“Come,” she said, “you do not need to see.”
Yet still I looked: left, right, beneath.
And there they were:
Faceless voices, crying out in pain.
She saw the doubt within my eyes and spoke:
“Judgment has come. These souls were lost.”
But something in me would not yield,
Because there had been evil in me.
So I walked on, still holding to the light,
Believing in a goodness far beyond my sight,
Yet softly, deep within my heart, I prayed
That mercy reached further than I could understand.
Mar 24
Mar 24, 2026 at 3:00 PM UTC
Dear mom,
I will write the things I will never say,
like how your life looks unkind to you on some days.
You look tired, the kind that sleep doesn’t fix.
Sometimes I ask myself why you stayed.
With dad, I mean — did you do it for me?
I know you love him, I know you do,
but I saw how many times he upset you.
You seem lonely, and even when you try not to show,
I know your life is different from how you wanted it to go.
If you ever find something I wrote,
I’m sorry, there is a reason I didn’t show these notes.
They were never meant to hurt, or to be seen by you,
only to write down emotions
I didn’t know what to do with.
Sleep well, dear mom, and live your day
how you want, my love will stay.
Feb 8
Feb 8, 2026 at 7:26 AM UTC
Sure, I have to be kind,
while the world drives a blade into us
and turns it slowly, watching.
Anger. Riots. Rage.
I close my eyes, forcing memories back
The Effort backfires, fragments won't leave
Pain. Depression. Violence.
I see broken houses, people scattered and unnamed
So many lost.
Death. Death. Death.
I see the richest shade of a red lipstick smeared into the earth
So much of everything
And still, death
Feb 8
Feb 8, 2026 at 6:59 AM UTC
17, and just a girl with a stupid dream Until i woke up one day making it a reality
Not all is well, not all is fine,
Some days I still fall behind
But I decided it was time for a change
And at 17 I learned a truth, so strange
"Stupid dreams are how realities are made."
Feb 1
Feb 1, 2026 at 4:56 PM UTC
I showed one of my poems last week,
My hands were shaking, my voice too weak.
They read the lines, they read my face,
And tears fell softly in that place.
Jan 24
Jan 24, 2026 at 8:17 AM UTC
I desperately wanted to write a poem
With words that would capture that my home
Is just a house with people in it,
A house where I can sometimes laugh a bit.
But sometimes, late at night, when I hear them fight,
I pretend it’s just another quiet night.
My house—sometimes too quiet, sometimes too noisy,
Sometimes there is fun, but never truly cozy.
The poem I never wrote about the doors,
The emptiness and little wars,
Because I never found the words to explain
How my lovely house became a place of pain.
Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 9:08 AM UTC