Don't abandon us
We are poor, blind creatures, like rats in a maze, looking out for number
one, fighting over limited resources.
Don't abandon us
We are the blind leading the blind, both falling over the precipice
without a safety net because others told us to do so.
Don't abandon us
We are wicked people who have forgotten or ignored Your divine law
engraved in our hearts and our DNA.
Don't abandon us,
As we cry out from our crosses, the crosses of our own undoing or from the
cruelty of others.
Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani
Lord, do not abandon us,
for we are your wayward children, but your children nonetheless.
Do not let us die next to the thief, shamed
but rescue us like you did the repentant one crucified next to you,
let us hear those soothing words, "Today, you will be with me in paradise."
so our burdened hearts can be calmed and reassured of your love.
Lord, don't abandon us
Let your greatest attribute shine,
Let your mercy, penetrate the dark clouds that
threaten to engulf us.
And even if we are destined to die on our crosses, do not abandon us as
we follow you to the other side.
Lord, we trust in you.
Mar 23
Mar 23, 2026 at 12:19 PM UTC
i’m an angel,
written by a devil
a poem,
written by a poet
i’m a 14-year-old girl,
existing in a body that isn’t mine
the mirror cracks
when i glance at myself,
each piece cutting into my insecurities
it cuts at my thighs—
how they need to be smaller
my hair—
how it needs to be straighter
my stomach—
how it needs to be flatter
my eyes—
how they need to be brighter
my teeth—
how they need to be straighter
but most importantly,
me—
how i need to be someone else
i feel the shards
cut deep within my skin,
and i’m bleeding,
and the scars only make me
more ugly,
then more beautiful
i see beauty within others,
yet i can’t see it in myself
i see scars as strength
rather than weakness—
so why can’t i look at myself
and think that too?
i’m an angel, they say,
but i’m written by a devil
i’m a poet,
but i’m written by a mentally insane poet
i’m a 14-year-old girl,
but she’s living in a body
she doesn’t feel right in
this is beauty, isn’t it?
Mar 23
Mar 23, 2026 at 12:18 PM UTC
Jealousy creeps in, a shadowy guest,
Turning calm hearts into a contest.
I wish I knew what I did
That left them so unimpressed
Evny is not something I want to feel
But sometimes it feels that envy will
help me heal, heal from reality, heal from the truth
But envy’s comfort is sharp and brief,
It masks my wounds but deepens grief.
I chase illusions, hoping to find
A peace that envy leaves behind.
Though jealous thoughts may cloud my view,
I long to see the world renewed
To let go of longing, to simply be,
And find a gentler peace in me.
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 12:06 PM UTC
Summer is not a season
summer is a way
Summer is the one time of year that we really have a reason
Summer is not a season
the smell of the salty air
sand on feet
salt and sand in hair
the natural waves that the beach forms
The one time of year, nothing matters
Sleep doesn't matter
As we stay up all night, never at our own house
The one time of year that actually matters
the smell of sea salt in the air
the one time of year nobody cares what you wear
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 11:56 AM UTC