I ain’t sure if I can call this home.
There are chairs, carpets, walls, and doors,
but this place doesn’t breathe with voices anymore.
Carpets can't remember the weight of living
The walls stand, bland and grey,
and the doors stay closed as if they mean it.
There are souls here,
but none that truly reach.
All so busy
that even when someone begs for a moment,
their noise dies down
into quiet drops of loneliness,
Just to realize,
they can’t afford to beg for it.
Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 5:49 AM UTC
I want to live—
not that I want to be a escapee,
rather I want
to be the kind that—
If I were a pencil,
let me be the sharpest tip.
If I were a race,
let me be the fastest stride.
If I were a wing,
let me reach the highest air.
If I were a fragrance,
let me be the softest trace
that lingers.
I only want —
to live
in the truest shape
of the life I chose.
Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 1:22 PM UTC
Every time I bet,
I lose,
Realizing
I don’t know you yet.
Still, I keep placing coins on the table,
Hopeing today might be it.
But I find myself falling sway,
With empty pockets
day after day,
Watching the coins spin,
Unable to walk away.
Dec 19, 2025
Dec 19, 2025 at 12:38 PM UTC
What are we, my friend?
Not rabbits from the same warren,
yet we share our carrots
and the hidden burrows of our grief.
You may not know my deepest lows,
yet somehow you still make my spirit binky
on the most ordinary afternoons.
A single glance from you brings calm,
and my worries scamper off
at the funny sight of your face.
Maybe it’s just a classic friendship,
but I find it rare—
all the joy of the hop,
the comfort of a bunny’s quiet heart.
Its wonder: a small, white fullness—
a whole life, softly living itself
right to the brim.
Nov 24, 2025
Nov 24, 2025 at 1:08 PM UTC
I do not love with conditions,
but I love with expectations.
To be heard like the melody you know by heart,
To be seen like the North Star you navigate by,
To be held like the worn teddy bear you could never forget.
And from this soil, my hope unfolds—
the fragile,daring dream to be loved
as you have never loved before.
To become not just another,
but the one you cannot lose.
Nov 18, 2025
Nov 18, 2025 at 6:09 AM UTC
summer never stays forever,
and winter too must fade.
so I choose memories —
to feel the sun in frozen months,
to warm my hands
on moments long gone.
for in the coldest, loneliest days,
they return —
soft as echoes of laughter,
gentle as light through frost.
but seasons,
they are wanderers;
they never stay forever.
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 1:32 AM UTC
Don't ask me what I mean
When you read my poems
I wrote them-
Because the
weather was uncertain,
Because words fell short
of the heaviness in air,
of the quite weight of humidity
I could never simply explain...
Oct 15, 2025
Oct 15, 2025 at 1:16 AM UTC
reading plath,
i wondered —
must every poem
bleed from a broken heart?
or do some verses bloom
for the bright and the unbroken —
for flowers that know
they will wither or be plucked,
yet still sing softly
of the sun that once held them,
and the wind that called their name
Oct 10, 2025
Oct 10, 2025 at 7:19 AM UTC
if I've scattered like star dust
just to glow in your sky
Maybe- that too
is a kind of becoming.
Sep 7, 2025
Sep 7, 2025 at 4:17 AM UTC
Her heartbeat synchronizes with my joys
Her breath aligns with my every stride
In my achievements, she find her purpose
for she has woven her universe within me
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 1:16 PM UTC