I've sunken to the floor in defeat.
My waning breath lets out a bleat.
Have I come so far to now be done?
Maybe my failed battles were my greatest feat.
My eyes have glazed over
And as my chest
rose and fell, one final breath,
not one understood me, even in death.
Through out my corpse, my eternal sorrow would grow.
Because after death, my feelings won't slow.
Sorrow for the one girl I never was,
the person I suppressed is the cause,
of the internal lonelyness that flashes it's claws.
To be understood is to be loved,
to see your soul and not run.
I pray for this to be done
to my green soul and my liquid mind.
But I chose this life, to never be truly seen.
It subsumes my chronic fear to be precived.
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 7:39 PM UTC
I do not write poems anymore.
Atleast not how I used to.
Like a child abhored
by societal norms.
Ego-centric words filling a void,
devoid of any real meaning.
Circled back to all I lack- inside and out.
Screaming my claim to fame is in my viens,
mine mine mine.
I do not write poems anymore.
Especially not of love.
For now, I see how cryptic love can be,
when losing that fleeting game.
How an open mouth at times,
is not fed for lack of awarness
of the words spewing out.
For now I see that a fondness is never enough
to constitute being in love.
I do not write poems anymore,
not because I simly too good for this chore.
But because I have grown up,
maybe stiff and cold and old old old.
I lost the girlish flair of flame by passion
that drove my mind to ration
my voice into thin stanzas,
toying with depth.
I do not write poems anymore,
that could have been all I said,
but my voice sang on even after death.
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 5:38 PM UTC
The grassy hollow sang out siren calls
Amist the city sounds who's heartless rhythm hauled
unto a bussle that mauled
the caring heart of every doll.
Sit with me under this tree,
feel the song it serendades- the angelic voice it brings.
Secluded and untouched amist the claws of the metropoliton rush.
Beautiful and serene carier of me.
Lie down in the hollow carved
hear her glorious beating heart.
She caresses my tired bones,
mother will take me home.
In the hollow I do belive that every soul shall see
that grassy patch, so undesturbed, so clean.
A blissful oasis in a world so mean.
Amist my cries, Mother will rescue me.
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 5:19 PM UTC
No sin lives in us,
hearts palpitating, leaving no concealment, only trust.
Cross lying in my lustful breast.
Have I failed god's test?
Blowing ribbon smoke in your doll face.
The fires of hell are well worth your embrace.
How can they alienate such truest care.
Maybe it shouldn't bother me, but I don't have the guts to dare.
And when I see you with him,
how it makes me sick.
Does he know the nights we shared?
Does he know how lipstick and love filled the air?
I am the head-strong, independant type,
but in your arms, dependancy feels so right.
I run rampant like the wind; wild and free,
but for you a house-wife I would be.
Buckle me down.
Tame my spirit with out a frown.
Hold me in the moonlight and calm my thought in which I drown.
Late at night-
Blowing smoke ribbons in your doll face,
The fires of hell are well worth your embrace.
Apr 14
Apr 14, 2026 at 7:41 PM UTC
Me pinto los labios...
Un trazo rojo, delicado, veloz.
En el espejo, una dama me devuelve la mirada...
Hermosa, perfecta; soy una mujer.
Me pongo mi vestido...
Sereno, blanco.
Como nieve pura.
Pues soy pura.
Quemo una ramita de salvia
Y contemplo a la Virgen...
Católica y adolescente, tal como yo.
Sin embargo, sus ojos me dan la clave.
Tomo asiento en la Misa,
Justo al lado de la diabla.
La pelirroja de labios carmesí...
Tal como yo.
Sus dedos me tocan...
Suaves, pecaminosos, sencillos.
Afuera, ella me espera,
pero me pone miss ojos como no me verla,
Porque soy una mujer,
en un vestido blanco.
Miro a la Virgen, que me dice
"no"
Y a la diabla pelirroja...
A quien, a veces,
veo como un ángel.
Y a sus labios carmesí.
No.
Soy una mujer.
Pura.
Una virgen.
Una católica.
¿Resignada?
No: una fuerza De Cristo.
Pero su voz me llama...
Como el mar impetuoso.
Apr 3
Apr 3, 2026 at 12:09 AM UTC
My star, promised to another.
I would cause a whole forest fire,
just for the flicker to cause your eye to wander.
Are you living now?
Or are you one life away from happiness.
I fill my soul with smoke.
So on my tears I can't choke.
My star, could I hold you or will I burn?
Your feet scorch the ground,
Yet the sun in the sky
thanks your beautiful brown eyes.
Your parted lips when I wave "Hi"
God, the things I'd do to hear you sigh,
Or to have your arms be the place I cry,
but still I sit, writing the hyme I wished for only your eyes.
Mar 19
Mar 19, 2026 at 3:52 PM UTC
The apple in your palm,
Spin it round,
Ask yourself odd questions,
if your lucky enough these strange strings of sylables will envoke your wonder.
Does the apple know its real?
Your adolecent allegory, comprary to a stunted Plato.
Is the apple real?
Am I the apple?
Now we're getting somewhere.
Sit in a field in mid-day sun,
alone because classes and people are no fun.
Inhale a puff of coconut remorse.
Exhale. Repeat as needed.
Cut off all your friends and fall in love with all the wrong people.
Then, run back to your friends, tail between your legs,
they're used to and tired of your antics by now.
Take your pills.
Take your pills, more than the doctor said.
Take your pills.
Hide them under your tounge (don't take your pills)
Cut your long brown hair.
The one you never cut?
Yeah, do it for your not the girl who grew it.
You cut it for her and bury it in your graveyard-closet.
Lastly, write terrible poems about terrible people (like yourself).
Read them to people who dont care.
Agrandizise your ego and claim your own philosophy.
You are your own begining and end.
P.S. Don't eat that apple, you'll get fat.
Mar 19
Mar 19, 2026 at 3:09 PM UTC
The place I lay is wherst I weep.
I pray the lord my soul to keep.
Her hair floods down her back in tendrils, sleek.
Her evil essence is suffocating, leading me back to where her blood seeps.
Can God save me now?
On my knees, I pledge a vow.
Addiction is a ***** nasty thing.
This admiration is just that, there is nothing more it means.
To her and from her I run and cry,
Desperate for hatred, but animosity is nigh.
No; she's wicked and such a lie,
but still when she looks at me that way I can't help but sigh.
Can God save me now?
Or from his grace have I fell?
On my knees I beg, I plead.
I pray to her my soul to keep.
Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 3:45 AM UTC
The quiet drunkens me
Your voice is sobering
Our eyes dance; syncrony
but our mouths stumble for words implicitly.
"Don't let him be your first everything."
That's what they all tell me.
But the waves roll to shore
and the sand becomes new, as always
Nov 19, 2025
Nov 19, 2025 at 11:38 PM UTC
His eyes captured mine on the subway-train.
They felt knowing; telling, yet held a certain pain.
I looked at him, not even knowing his name,
yet his soul seem one in which I was ingraved.
Our eyes danced back and forth, a rhythmic flow,
communicating words no one will ever know.
Swirling hymns life can't equate.
The train was coming and I'd now be late.
My eyes lingered on his, grasping hold a final taste.
He walked over closer to my fate.
Maybe he was getting on the same one as me.
Maybe this was our destiney.
The train came, quickly sobering my fantasy.
I rushed on, not abandoning
the hope that he might too.
We hope don't we, that's all we'll do.
He got on a different train.
Sep 23, 2025
Sep 23, 2025 at 2:52 PM UTC