The road back home feels longer these days,
Each mile paved with unpaid bills and dreams on layaway.
I count dollars like prayers, stretch them thin as light,
Trying to buy another week of sleep at night.
The world spins fast, but I move slow,
Carrying the weight of what I can’t show.
Pockets empty, but my mind stays loud,
Plans and promises, tangled and proud.
Sometimes I see home in the distance, faint,
Like a painting smudged with worry and restraint.
I remember the laughter, the quiet, the peace
Now I trade that for overtime and a short release.
Still, I walk.
Because hope doesn’t quit, it limps.
It keeps pace beside me when I’m spent,
Whispering that broken isn’t the same as bent.
One day, I’ll find my way back through the storm,
With lessons stitched where my heart was torn.
And maybe then, when the debts are paid and the noise is gone,
I’ll sit under my roof and finally feel, home.
Oct 27, 2025
Oct 27, 2025 at 5:52 AM UTC
The walls are closing, I can’t breathe,
the shadows claw, they won’t let me leave.
I’m caught between the fear and flame,
a hollow echo calling my name.
But somewhere past this endless night,
I feel a spark, a trace of light.
If I could reach beyond the scars,
would you still guide me where you are?
So tear the chains, break me apart,
rebuild the pieces of my heart.
I’m lost, but still I see your spark,
please, lead me out of the dark.
The storm inside still shakes my bones,
I’m fighting battles all alone.
Yet in the silence, through the pain,
your voice keeps calling out my name.
The ashes fall, but I still stand,
a fragile soul, an outstretched hand.
And though I stumble, though I bleed,
your light is all I’ll ever need.
So if I break, don’t let me fade,
remind me I was not betrayed.
Through fire, fear, and endless scars,
you’ll lead me out, back to the stars.
Aug 29, 2025
Aug 29, 2025 at 4:46 AM UTC
The sky may hide behind the gray,
but morning still will break the day.
The shadows stretch, yet cannot stay,
the light will always find its way.
A weary heart can learn to mend,
a broken road will turn, will bend.
And though the night feels without end,
the dawn arrives, a faithful friend.
The seeds we plant in darkest ground,
will rise where light and love are found.
What once was lost may still rebound,
in gentle whispers, hope resounds.
So walk with courage, step by step,
the past is not the weight you kept.
A brighter path has long been set,
the best is waiting, not here yet.
Aug 29, 2025
Aug 29, 2025 at 4:43 AM UTC
Under the moonlight, shadows creep,
whispers stir where secrets sleep.
The mind becomes a haunted room,
echoes tangled in the gloom.
A fragile soul, a weary fight,
drowning silent in the night.
The stars look on, but do not speak,
as hope feels distant, lost, and weak.
Yet through the dark, a silver thread,
a glimmer where the night has bled.
The moon, though fractured, still will shine,
a quiet vow: “This strength is mine.”
For even pain, beneath its weight,
cannot undo what hope creates.
And broken hearts can heal in time,
the night will fade, the dawn will climb.
Aug 28, 2025
Aug 28, 2025 at 11:13 PM UTC
Some nights,
the quiet doesn’t comfort me.
It presses in,
like a hand on my chest,
reminding me how alone
walls can feel.
I count the seconds between my breaths,
as if spacing them out
might slow the ache,
but the truth is
I’m just trying to make
the moment last long enough
to understand it.
Still
the moon finds me,
spilling silver over everything,
and I think maybe
there’s beauty in being seen
by something
that asks for nothing in return.
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 11:45 PM UTC
I’ve stared at him
on my worst days
the man in the mirror
who looks like me
but feels like someone else.
I’ve seen the tired eyes,
the clenched jaw,
the quiet that’s heavier
than any shout.
I’ve seen him break
without making a sound.
There were nights
I swore I’d disappear
if I let go for even a second.
Nights where the dark
sat on my chest
and dared me to breathe.
But I kept breathing.
Even when it hurt.
Even when it felt pointless.
I used to miss the version of me
before the disappointments,
before the betrayals,
before I learned
some people only show up
when the road is smooth.
Now…
I move slower,
but I move with intent.
I talk less,
but I talk with weight.
I’ve lost more than I’ve gained,
but what’s left is real.
The man in the mirror
isn’t perfect
but he’s still here.
Still standing.
And every time I doubt him,
he stares back and says,
“We’re not done yet.”
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 10:37 AM UTC
Tonight, the moon hangs soft and wide
A silver hush across the tide
She doesn’t speak, but still she hears
The quiet weight of all our years
She knows the ones who dream too loud
And those who vanish in the crowd
She watches lovers drift apart
And still believes in every heart
A mirror lit with borrowed light
She turns the dark to something bright
Not blazing, no — she simply glows
And somehow that’s enough, she knows
So if you’re lost or feel unseen
Look up, the sky is not so mean
The moon is patient, calm, and true
And every night, she waits for you
Aug 6, 2025
Aug 6, 2025 at 4:41 AM UTC
The winds of August hum a tune
Between the dusk and silver moon
Where time feels like a drifting tide
And shadows stretch but never hide
A quiet ache, a soft release
The kind of calm that carries peace
Not joy, not sorrow, something new
A truth that only night can view
We walk through days with hearts half known
In borrowed skin, not quite our own
Yet even broken wings can lift
When silence offers space to shift
So take this breeze, this moment's grace
Let doubt dissolve without a trace
You are becoming, slow and true
Not who you were, but someone new
Aug 6, 2025
Aug 6, 2025 at 4:39 AM UTC
I'm not who I was
but not yet who I'll be
a shadow caught dancing
between versions of me
Some days I rise
like a flame in the wind
burning with purpose
a future to begin
Other days I drift
lost in the grey
rewinding old echoes
I swore I'd outplay
But still I move forward
quiet and slow
trusting the roots
in the dark still grow
So if you ask where I stand
the past or the dream
I'll tell you I'm here
in the in between
Aug 4, 2025
Aug 4, 2025 at 4:52 AM UTC
Another day in paradise, they say
as the sun scorches hope off my back
and the clock laughs its slow, cruel laugh.
I'm supposed to be grateful.
Supposed to smile at the mess,
at the noise,
at the weight of pretending this is fine.
But I hate it here.
The way the air feels like a lie,
how the walls close in
even when I’m outside.
The way silence rings louder than traffic,
and company feels lonelier than being alone.
They dress it up with palm trees and promises,
but the ground still cracks beneath my feet.
And no matter how bright the sky looks,
I still wake up tired
still sleep with my fists clenched.
Another day in paradise, huh?
Then why does it feel like hell
with a better view?
Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 6:54 AM UTC