Thump.
The heavy sound of my heart
is just another reminder that I am alive.
I am not the candle you requested.
I am fire that asks for your hand
so I can burn my touch into you.
Thump.
I carry a pulse that refuses
to be background noise
even after my head begs
for you not to notice me.
Maybe the cruelest thing
was asking fire
to apologize for burning.
I want you to hear my heart
thump.
May 15
May 15, 2026 at 10:26 AM UTC
I could tell you that i'd wait for you,
but once you come back,
you'd be upset that I aged.
I could tell you that you're pretty,
but once I say it,
you'd be upset I hadn't said it sooner.
I could tell you not to leave,
but once you disappear,
you'd be upset I hadn't looked for you.
You could tell me that you love me,
but once your eyes drift,
I'd be upset that you didn't mean it.
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 10:40 AM UTC
I'd like to remember the person
who forced my wounds open further
just to see what color my blood was.
Knowledge is the absence
id wish she'd known
before seeing the blood she knew was red.
I wish she didn't see
the way my hands shook
but her eyes are drawn
to the imperfections of my esoteric mind.
I'd like to remember her
as the person who torn me apart
because now
i am able to heal.
May 12
May 12, 2026 at 10:35 AM UTC
I am trapped in a body
that has lost its ability
to ignore the mundane.
My clothes feel like restraints,
and my skin has become an exposed nerve
that refuses to heal.
The phantom weight inside of me
is a deep hum of wrongness
that cannot be soothed.
My consciousness is no longer mine
and my words hang in my throat
with the inability to elude.
because freedom is futile
when the world is obstinate,
and i am incarcerated.
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 11:23 AM UTC
If i asked the world for silence
The clocks would still tick.
I'm filled with reluctance to observe
That each clock in my house
Is set to a different time.
Tick.
Tick.
My body hammers a frantic rhythm
That isn't attuned to music.
But instead an ache beneath my bones
That i will never be able to reach.
Because the clocks are changing
And time does not wait for you to catch up.
My brain is curdled with thoughts
Like milk i refuse to throw away
Just because it fills the space.
And i can not help the shake of my fingers
Or the ticking in my head
from a clock I do not own.
But instead a reminder to my soul
That time is ticking.
May 4
May 4, 2026 at 10:38 AM UTC
my skin is cold.
But the tile underneath me
is cold in the way that
asks ice to burn,
and hope it's still solid.
my skin is cold.
but the heat of the blood
seeping underneath me
begs for a security ill never have.
my skin is cold.
but the way her hands
asked mine for warmth
made my hands shake more than the cold did.
my skin is cold
and loving her warmth
feels like a crime
i keep almost confessing too.
because my hands are cold
they will forever be cold.
and if im meant to be cold
then please take away my desire
to feel warmth.
Apr 30
Apr 30, 2026 at 10:43 AM UTC
Birds born in a cage
don't know their wings can fly.
They indubitably think the act of flying,
is an illness to all illiterate birds.
They perch their post
and eat out of the hand
of an illierate person
they deem to be elite.
They let their feathers preen,
and look down on all illiterate birds
that fly below their cage of wisdom
because illiterate birds are ill.
But the illiterate birds fly
to an elevation the caged cant fathom.
their wings flaunt unwittingly,
a paradox of peace.
the illierate explore
and be crushed the same day.
but the caged, all mighty,
poor soul will die by inches
in the quiet monotony of repetition.
Apr 27
Apr 27, 2026 at 10:41 AM UTC
I engulf myself in impatience
and wonder why waiting
didnt work for you.
i will be punished for the passion
I dont fully show to myself
because consciousness takes bravery
and bravery cant exist without fear.
I crave the intimacy
of the wind singing me a song
you didnt pay attention to.
But a man will hum the tune
and take credit for stolen beauty
and you will congratulate the melody.
Your hands graze what could be prudence
but your tongue reminds me the bitter cold
never cared when warmth would return.
even so,
language is the strongest form of seduction
and i am drawn to the flame i know
will burn me.
and i will let myself love you as you
remind me that
fire devours reason.
Feb 4
Feb 4, 2026 at 6:31 PM UTC
i struggle with the ability
to take care of my hands.
they are picked at
and bitten
and scratched until they are red.
my nails dig into my skin
like how words dig into heads
that aren’t ready to hear their own thoughts.
but every brain must know, you cant run
from something that is inside of you.
the lines in my palm are a map
that leads to a place i don’t want to revisit.
but pulling myself away means removing
the DNA attached to me
and i will no longer live as me.
my hands are not pretty
but they are real.
and i will stare at my hands and hope
one day they will hold a version of me
that i will not have to rip apart.
Nov 28, 2025
Nov 28, 2025 at 7:46 AM UTC
I delight to observe you excited of things
when the sun beams over your cheeks and
brings out what you weep,
skin velvet coated by beautiful freckles,
a boon of sand on the beach
while you adore the sun setting in hundreds of crimsons
while I adore the muse in front of me.
I see your eyes in every passing person
not because you're there but only because
I wish you were.
Your eyes open the sea when you stare
holding freshly picked berries
and cold glazed tears.
I see you in the clock as old as your heart,
the time slipping past our fingertips
as i failed to hold our memories dear
the clock still ticks
even though you're not here.
May 9, 2025
May 9, 2025 at 11:16 AM UTC