I always find myself
Wanting to read the last page
of the chapter first
Just in case
There is something to brace for
Something to grieve.
I’ve missed many moments
Calculating the outcomes
As if I could predict
erratic human behavior.
I cling to the stories
My mind has carefully crafted
With fragments of reality
And pieces of my heart
As if I would otherwise drown.
This time I’m enjoying each letter
Of each word
On each page,
Not missing a single thing written
Between the lines
Or doodled in the corner.
Jan 14
Jan 14, 2026 at 10:52 AM UTC
How does one let go
of something that never existed
of something they longed for
but could never quite reach?
How does one explain
they've reached the bottom
of the cave
and have no way of getting out
with merely scraps to eat?
When does one cry out
"Enough is enough!
I concede,
and raise the white flag
of true defeat"?
Jan 14
Jan 14, 2026 at 10:49 AM UTC
I would say
My heart is cavernous
But lately
It is full.
Heavy
with thick blood
And old wounds.
But they tell me
Do not despair
Because of this pain
You know you are alive.
Oct 21, 2025
Oct 21, 2025 at 11:21 PM UTC
You are genuine, kind, and loving by nature
a light they can not replicate,
only consume.
The world is full of unkind vampires,
drawn not to your face,
but to the warmth behind your eyes.
They do not know how to kindle their flame,
So they steal from your fire instead.
You’ve met them before;
The manipulator, the mastermind,
Feeding on fear and venom and pus,
They build castles of their pain
But even rage has its limits.
They cannot touch your golden light
Because you took the same pain
And spun it into beauty instead
Of letting it curdle within.
Your gift is not a curse
Seeing how people came to be
Is not an invitation for thieves.
You do not have to stay.
You have watched and listened,
Your discernment is a sharpened blade.
Do not be afraid to wield it
When they inevitably show their teeth.
Jul 27, 2025
Jul 27, 2025 at 1:25 PM UTC
Every time the word ‘no’ comes out of my mouth,
Sorry reverberates
in the cavern of my skull.
As if I had just broken
every, last promise
made for me
when I was forced into
a world of blind eyes
and silent women.
Every time ‘no’ slips out of me
Like an unwelcome spider
Slipping through the crack
Between the wall and the floor
my breath catches
and I think to myself
“what did I just do?”
When a 16-year-old girl said no
to a “prom-posal”
she was murdered
by a 19-year-old male
who was taught his ego
is more important than a
woman’s life.
Because a woman on the subway
was uncomfortable with a man
placing his hands on her
like a ghost
seen by nobody else
she was slammed to the ground
and beaten
until her wrist was broken
and the man was satisfied
that she had paid the right price
for speaking up.
We live in a world
where no means absolutely nothing
when coming from the sweet-glossed lips
of a woman.
Because if no actually
Meant no,
Men would know when to stop.
Instead,
Women are ***** and told never to walk alone at night
Women are ***** and told to carry pink-painted pepper spray
Women are ***** and told “maybe you shouldn’t have dressed like a ****
And yet
You have the audacity to tell me
That sexism is “dead”
And that I have no reason to worry
About being on my own
In a world where no
Means death.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 7:27 PM UTC
Stars beam bright, freely glimmer,
taunting my soul that wishes to fly.
Glowing with their prideful gaze,
luring me to meet them in space.
Yet when I try to reach them there
they can not help but burn me.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 9:43 PM UTC
Stars float freely above
in the rich darkness of the night sky,
claiming no responsibility to the lives below.
But the moon,
hanging heavily below the stars,
is imprisoned
by the tides she creates,
held captive
by the glow of evening romance,
and enslaved
to the culture she has inspired.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 9:42 PM UTC
The first
gentle cracks of the spine
of a book
and the powdery scent
that it holds,
are the last things I need
before closing my eyes
and first things to beckon
me home.
But the best
part of all is the way
plots unfold
and the visions
of stories untold,
can make you leave
all your worries behind
in a world that is lonely and cold.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 9:41 PM UTC
A man at the end of the world
Lifts up his arms, and flies away.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC
Lying in rest position,
ready to play again
awaiting the song of emotion once more.
Ink flowing from the heart
staining the words red
as it empties onto the paper.
Carving into a blank page
as if it were stone,
picking away the surface and going ever deeper.
Playing “God” once more
as a humble human being
imagines a new world
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC