they call it home.
i learned to call it something else.
the same four walls,
the same silence that never helped,
the same nights that strecthed too long
with nowhere to hide.
and i remember,
how the room would watch
like it always does,
holding its breath
while everything broke.
i was small,
small enough to think
someone would stop it,
then someone would choose me.
but the silence stayed.
so i learned early,
how to survive inside a place
that was never meant to hurt me,
how to carry something invisible
that still feels like it's there—
like red
that never really washed away.
and even now,
when the night comes back
and the walls feel closer,
i realize
i never left that room.
i just grew around it.
May 12
May 12, 2026 at 9:42 PM UTC
these four walls know everything.
i thought they were only walls;
just corners holding up a ceiling,
just quiet spaces between my breaths.
but at night,
when the world fades and the silence grows heavy,
when my mind begins to speak again,
louder than any voice i’ve ever heard;
the same pain returns.
the same wound,
still open,
still breathing beneath my ribs.
and i sit here,
trapped within these four walls,
wondering if the red on my hands
ever truly washed away—
or if the night
just hides it better.
May 8
May 8, 2026 at 9:54 PM UTC
it never healed.
i thought i lost it,
when my days felt lighter,
my laughter louder,
my smile—real, for once.
but at night,
my mind gets loud, and the world goes quiet,
my heart swells, too big, i can’t breathe,
the wind brings everything back, and my bones remember,
and i realize
the pain is still here,
the wound still open,
my hands
still red.
Mar 2
Mar 2, 2026 at 2:30 PM UTC
if i were a thing, i'd probably be a puzzle.
the one wrapped in plastic,
and smells like a fresh one.
a puzzle that's always challenging,
the one that attracts people's interest
but not everyone could solve.
Oct 31, 2019
Oct 31, 2019 at 3:26 PM UTC
my hands aches to write,
but my heart says, "just cry it all out."
Jul 14, 2019
Jul 14, 2019 at 11:34 AM UTC
i was an ocean of emotions;
deep, wild, and uncontainable.
i used to think that i was cursed
to live in a small vessel
with such humongous core.
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 4:30 PM UTC
who am i to wish for the moon
when i'm just a part of the crowd?
Jun 21, 2019
Jun 21, 2019 at 4:57 PM UTC
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 11:31 AM UTC
your eyes have been as blue as the ocean,
with thoughts that could break the walls down.
with your feet wandering backwards,
your hands reached the ghosts
which you got rid of once.
your tongue coldly murmured the curse
with no exceptions for those you held close.
wanting the sun and the moon to transpose
with mind wishing for creatures of doubt.
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 6:58 AM UTC