When you are 16
They forget you’re ia child
One brother in college
The other his girlfriends
And the youngest sister
Is abandoned in this home
Not my home
It was made clear by the alcoholic
Step parent
I don’t live here
And tequila sunset afternoons
Of her disease near its death
The viciousness is felt
Hot like the breath of the addict
Hissing at her husband’s kid
******* dumb little *****
I’m not sharing him”
And she is meaning
My father is off limits
To his daughter, you see
As a sick competition
And it doesn’t ever change
Even in his death
And no one would believe this anyway
As only I lived it.
Apr 25
Apr 25, 2026 at 4:10 AM UTC
I think, I do, I make.
I talk and talk, I create.
Stillness without cause
in a brain built to distinguish
creates a cycle of indecision.
For some, restlessness is unnoticed,
just a temporary thing to move past.
But for others, it’s your prison,
a depreciation of your passion.
You are so useless
when you are aimless,
and you don’t even understand the concept.
Anxiety fuels your spiral
because restlessness is forever
when you are a Leo and ADHDer.
Apr 25
Apr 25, 2026 at 4:07 AM UTC
People told me to bury the hatchet,
so I went there with good intentions.
And yeah, we did end the disagreement,
so you could say it was a success.
Unfortunately, the hatchet is now evidence,
and I really do have to bury it.
I should also stop talking
and call my lawyer.
Anyway, you didn’t hear any of this.
Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 1:06 PM UTC
Disappear into a bottle
Disappear
I can disappear
Watch me disappear into a bottle
***** shots
Lemon drops
Red wine lips
stain my straw
At work, on the train, every day
the only way
Such a good disguise
you’re always the life of the party
Drink this hair of the dog
Does it still count
when it’s round the clock?
another day
I feel too much
Wake up tipsy
Take my coffee black with whiskey
It’ll fix me
Save me from me
I can disappear
Disappear into a bottle
Safe inside my bottle
Out to sea forgotten
I’m cold
I’m numb
I’m rotting
Forever drowning in a bottle
Who am I
when I’m forced to see the light
Who am I
when the mask finally slips
in the afternoon?
This is me
I can’t remember
when it was fun
There’s no need for tomorrow
Get another round
My safe and sound will never end
if I stay forever on this bend
I can disappear
Disappear into a bottle
Safe inside my bottle
Out to sea forgotten
I’m cold
I’m numb
I’m rotting
Forever drowning in a bottle
I’m pretending I don’t feel
the alcohol will take it
It’ll take it all
With the spirits, I fall
Fall into the bottle
Alcohol takes it all
It’ll always take it all
Disappear
I could disappear
Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 5:15 AM UTC
Disappear
I can disappear
Watch me disappear into a bottle
Whiskey shots
Lemon drops
My red wine lips
On coffee cups
At work, on the train, every day.
The only way.
Such a good disguise
When you’re always the girl who parties
Drink this hair of the dog
Does it count if it’s around the clock?
If I skip a day
It feels too much
When I wake up
Pour some whiskey in my coffee
Save me from me
I can disappear
Disappear into this bottle
Send me out to sea, forgotten
It’s safe inside my bottle
I’m numb and cold
I’m rotting
Forever drowning in a bottle
Who am I
When I’m forced to see the light?
Who am I
When the mask finally slips
In the afternoon?
This is me
I can’t remember when it was fun
I don’t care about tomorrow
I’ll just pour another shot
My safe and sound could never end
If I stay forever on this bend
I can disappear
Disappear into this bottle
It’s safe inside my bottle
I’m numb and cold
Forever drowning in a bottle
I pretend I don’t feel
But the alcohol will take it
It will take it all
And yet I fall
Fall into this bottle
Disappear
I can disappear
Feb 17
Feb 17, 2026 at 9:18 AM UTC
Golden hour is loaded with lies.
As the sun disappears,
so does the disguise.
Shiny reflections conceal imperfections,
and only in darkness do we gain perspective.
Sunsets are masters of deception,
like the counterfeit necklaces sold out of cardboard boxes.
Feb 5
Feb 5, 2026 at 8:32 AM UTC
If truth has become intense,
and all this life has become prose,
start a new page of music,
songs for whisperings and wails.
Sweet symphonies
that can carry the weight of words
of which we can’t speak.
Each verse, every stanza,
may hold those feelings and heal.
And if the music, too, fails
to express and reveal,
surrender to the silence.
It’s not as scary as you would expect.
The unspoken words bring guidance,
and in darkness you’ll find light,
as they are forever intertwined.
I promise you,
there is strength in surrender,
and you are brave enough
to get there.
Feb 5
Feb 5, 2026 at 3:09 AM UTC
I am so tired of being strong.
Still can’t believe the outcome.
Was I the one?
Or just that dumb?
I believed we were young.
I still believe some love songs.
I hate to be wrong.
So I had to succeed.
We have history.
We have family.
You are so angry.
You blame me.
Family, love, marriage.
Suburban homes.
Miscarriages.
My refusal to acknowledge.
“I’m not home.”
I’m a hostage.
Denial is like handcuffs.
Our family, my crutch.
And even though you don’t give a ****
I cling, I clutch.
I will survive on crumbs.
Slowly, your love
started to cost a fortune.
I sold myself in pieces,
but the price kept increasing.
You kept leaving.
I was grieving, not eating,
seething, still pleading.
I can stop the bleeding.
I knew it wasn’t what was,
but maybe if I threw myself on the bomb,
I could save us.
Maybe for me,
nothing could be enough.
Looking back, I feel stupid.
Our memories are polluted.
I’m scared of you.
I’m scared of losing.
But now I’m not scared,
because this is unfair.
You are aware, but stunted,
playing hide-and-seek
from your own shortcomings.
You poison me.
I’m so sick.
You torture me for your kicks.
I see it.
The narcissist.
The alcoholic.
The misogynist.
This grift.
My chronic pain.
My disdain.
My everything.
So naive…
My anger and sadness coexist,
and you don’t deserve any of it.
You know what you did.
So own it.
Instead, you stand there,
holding your paycheck over my head,
demanding respect,
telling me to clean up this mess.
You hurt me to hurt our kids.
You hurt me.
You feel vindictive.
You lost?
Or did you win?
And now I see clearly,
as you blind yourself with whiskey.
You play the victim so poorly.
It’s astounding, really,
what abusers do for power.
Our final hour.
Bitter and sour.
Feb 5
Feb 5, 2026 at 3:01 AM UTC
If diamonds are a girl’s best friend,
why are they always presents from men?
I love a shiny, sparkly flair,
but when I look at their flat color and shape,
I can’t say I see friendship there.
I don’t see what’s exciting
about something so dull,
where the less color it has,
the more it’s valued.
I don’t understand the promise of true love
in a colorless stone.
That’s literally coal.
Harry Winston, I get it.
We love how they sparkle,
but when it comes to the price,
are they truly remarkable?
If I want something shiny,
I’ll take moissanite from space,
because nothing compares
to a starry sky.
And if I want sparkle,
I’ll take Dom or Moët,
a glass of champagne,
crisp and cool to the taste.
When you’re presented a Tiffany diamond
and unwrap the blue box it comes in,
before you get too caught up in the excitement,
remember the man also comes with it.
And when there’s a man,
there are expectations,
and more often than not,
it ends in heartbreak,
in devastation.
Just like a diamond,
it’s hard, dull, and cold.
So when it comes to my engagement,
sorry, men, I won’t take it.
I want something far more outrageous,
far more creative.
And when it comes to best friends,
I’m sorry—
this ain’t it.
Feb 4
Feb 4, 2026 at 4:51 AM UTC
Sapphires unknowingly became De Beers’ arch enemy.
With their ability to move fluidly
from tears of deep blue
through wide-open skies,
the waves of high tide,
and pink sunsets
as they leave traces of the day
in sun glares on your faded indigo Levi’s.
They are indefinitely more impressive
than a diamond’s hard, overpriced lie.
Just a shiny rock,
an insurance policy for jilted brides.
Feb 4
Feb 4, 2026 at 2:48 AM UTC