Pap_aya - Hello Poetry

The reason we romanticise our childhood isn't because we miss it; most of us would do anything not to go back or maybe even to forget it. When we were children, we had no past; we were free. Our past is what keeps us in a mind-cage. We are slaves to it. To find true freedom, one must live each day as if it were their first. 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒈𝒊𝒂 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒚.

0

Jun 19, 2025

Jun 19, 2025 at 7:30 PM UTC

Childhood/Nostalgia

The reason we romanticise our childhood isn't because we miss it; most of us would do anything not to go back or maybe even to forget it. When we were children, we had no past; we were free. Our past is what keeps us in a mind-cage. We are slaves to it. To find true freedom, one must live each day as if it were their first. 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒈𝒊𝒂 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒚.

4

Even when you're out sight, Even on my happy days, You're bright.

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Jun 19, 2025

Jun 19, 2025 at 7:03 PM UTC

~To The Sun

Even when you're out sight, Even on my happy days, You're bright.

3

Even when shielded by the clouds, Even on my darkest nights, You shine. Why give up when the moon is so beautiful?

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Jun 19, 2025

Jun 19, 2025 at 6:59 PM UTC

To The Moon

Even when shielded by the clouds, Even on my darkest nights, You shine. Why give up when the moon is so beautiful?

4

I have never truly been alone. I have always written to an audience, to someone. Someone who sees in me even what I don't see in myself. I am always being watched. At night, my pillow watches. In the kitchen, the window watches. On a walk, the leaves whisper warnings in the wind. I don’t understand when people ask what I’m like when I’m alone because I have never truly been alone.

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Jun 18, 2025

Jun 18, 2025 at 10:10 AM UTC

Paranoia

I have never truly been alone. I have always written to an audience, to someone. Someone who sees in me even what I don't see in myself. I am always being watched. At night, my pillow watches. In the kitchen, the window watches. On a walk, the leaves whisper warnings in the wind. I don’t understand when people ask what I’m like when I’m alone because I have never truly been alone.

9

Because joy is the absence of sadness and sadness is the absence of you.

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Jun 18, 2025

Jun 18, 2025 at 8:33 AM UTC

Logical System of Implications to Prove that I Miss You.

Because joy is the absence of sadness and sadness is the absence of you.

2

Something I notice in myself, in my sadness, is the way I yearn for it during times of happiness, But absolutely despise it when it truly comes.

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Jun 17, 2025

Jun 17, 2025 at 8:58 PM UTC

14th of Sept

Something I notice in myself, in my sadness, is the way I yearn for it during times of happiness, But absolutely despise it when it truly comes.

2

Humans are inherently selfish Everything you experience, everything you preceive Your world Your reality All of it is an extension of yourself

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Jun 17, 2025

Jun 17, 2025 at 8:49 PM UTC

oneness

Humans are inherently selfish Everything you experience, everything you preceive Your world Your reality All of it is an extension of yourself

5

This is probably the least exciting love letter you've ever read. Maybe my love for you doesn't excite you, it doesn't feel like a challenge or like anything you can win. I don't want you to win me, I don't want there to be a winner. I want truth, understanding. I want you to see in me what I see in you. I want to give you, to show you, life. But you already have that, you can learn nothing from me; you can use my brain to think, you can use every part of my being, but you can never learn from me. This isn't my love for you that writes these lines; my love for you is happy, sunny, green, it is filled with memories of your smile and brown eyes. This is my premature regret, my fear of losing you, my acknowledgement of the free will you gave me, the one that I cannot bring myself to use to make you feel this void inside me that calls your name. Maybe this is a plea, a way for me to beg you to accept me. Maybe it's reassuring to think that if I say it a certain way, it might disgust you less. I don't want to repel you.

0

Jun 17, 2025

Jun 17, 2025 at 8:32 PM UTC

Love Letter

This is probably the least exciting love letter you've ever read. Maybe my love for you doesn't excite you, it doesn't feel like a challenge or like anything you can win. I don't want you to win me, I don't want there to be a winner. I want truth, understanding. I want you to see in me what I see in you. I want to give you, to show you, life. But you already have that, you can learn nothing from me; you can use my brain to think, you can use every part of my being, but you can never learn from me. This isn't my love for you that writes these lines; my love for you is happy, sunny, green, it is filled with memories of your smile and brown eyes. This is my premature regret, my fear of losing you, my acknowledgement of the free will you gave me, the one that I cannot bring myself to use to make you feel this void inside me that calls your name. Maybe this is a plea, a way for me to beg you to accept me. Maybe it's reassuring to think that if I say it a certain way, it might disgust you less. I don't want to repel you.

5

Why is it that a stranger's gaze is the only thing that truly comforts me

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Jun 12, 2025

Jun 12, 2025 at 9:31 AM UTC

my first poem

Why is it that a stranger's gaze is the only thing that truly comforts me

1