Im so hot im cold
Its so loud quiet its loud
Everything is opposite
Everything is too much
Its too much
Nevermind its too little
Everything is one in the same then different
What is this
Where am i?
Am i dreaming
I thought i was awake
Am i even real
What am I?
Am i in my own body?
No, im not
So where am i
Im in a world where everything is the same yet acts different
Yet im not different
Yes i am
People have changed me for the worse
I dont know who i am anymore
Feb 27
Feb 27, 2026 at 9:00 PM UTC
You said you would never think of me again
A chapter left unread
But you couldnt resist
Im a rose with thorns and you love the pain
You cant stay away
My love left a stain
Unable to wash away
There forever
A chapter read
A chapter regretted
loved nonetheless
Feb 25
Feb 25, 2026 at 5:07 PM UTC
Its midnight i’m crying again
Crying, tears pouring down my face
Crying while trying to calm down
Crying, silently, not to wake anyone up
Crying, alone
Its midnight i’m cutting again
Cutting deep
Cutting and watching blood pour down my arm
Cutting and feeling the sharo sting of pain
Cutting and staying quiet
Cutting and then hiding
Its midnight once again i dont know what to do
I dont know what to do in school
I dont what to do at home
I dont know what to do when im with people
I dont know what to do when im alone
Its midnight im happy again
Happy that i have friends
Happy that i have a family
Happy that i get good grades
Happy that my teachers love me
Its midnight im scared again
Scared my friends and family hate me
Scared my grades will plummit
Scared that people will notice the cuts beneath my sleeves
Scared that i will fail
Its midnight
Midnight and everything is silent
Everyone is asleep
Not me
I cant sleep
Not while feeling everything at once
Feb 25
Feb 25, 2026 at 5:06 PM UTC
Love
There are so many kinda
Romantic
******
Platonic
And i love expoerencing them all
Especially platonic
Building new relationships
Exploring different kinds of people
But everyone has a favorite
Trephine,
That is you
You are my favorite platonic love
Calling me terms of affection (brochacho)
Supporting me when things are hard (like me for you)
And not afraid to stand up for what you love and believe in (like waterboy)
Thank you, Trephine
For everything
Feb 25
Feb 25, 2026 at 5:05 PM UTC
Someone who can make me laugh
Someone who can make me cry
Someone who can lift my spirits on the darkest of days
Someone who loves me
Someone who openly displays how much they feel for me
Oh, wait
I know that someone
That someone is hilarious
That someone makes me cry in joy
That someone makes me happy when im sad
That someone loves me and tells me that
That someone shows how nuch they feel for me
I love you, someone, that will never change
Not until the light in my eyes goes out and im dead
Not until the earth explodes
Not until im killed will i ever stop loving you
Feb 25
Feb 25, 2026 at 5:04 PM UTC
To have an artist fall for you
Is to be loved slowly,
With patience and wonder.
If you were a painting,
I would paint you again and again,
Not to change you,
But to understand you deeper
Each time.
An artist’s love
Lives in the smallest details —
The way light rests on your face,
The pauses between your words,
The things you don’t realize
Are beautiful.
You’d miss it
If you weren’t paying attention,
But once you see it,
You’re never unseen again.
Feb 24
Feb 24, 2026 at 9:54 AM UTC
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping—rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping—tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door:—
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,
fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore!”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon I heard again a tapping, somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore;—
’Tis the wind and nothing more.”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he: not an instant stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no
craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered, “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said, “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope the melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never—nevermore.’”
But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and
door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath
sent thee
Respite—respite aad nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked,
upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!
Feb 24
Feb 24, 2026 at 9:53 AM UTC
People everywhere
Talking, laughing, smiling
Teachers greeting, smiling, teaching
Students laughing, tired, unmotivated
Three tests today
Two quizzes
One essay
Im exhausted
Yet I have to keep pushing
If i fail
If i dont get an A
Im a failure
Im the bad child
This place
This school
Is Hell
Feb 23
Feb 23, 2026 at 9:27 AM UTC
Your dark hair
Mine light
Your stoicness
My friendlyness
You sit in the snow, I stand in the sun
You stand alone, I stand surrounded by people
You stay quiet, I get loud
You’ll never be mine
But my heart will remain yours
Feb 21
Feb 21, 2026 at 11:12 PM UTC