craze - Hello Poetry

bag on your lap, shoes untied, i watch every blink like a timeline. youre my perfect boy, in your imperfect style, messy hair, tired eyes, how do you still look so pretty? dont change a thing, not a thing, stay perfect. youre my perfect boy, driving me crazy, youre perfect for me, not for a movie screen, just this scene.

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Jan 28

Jan 28, 2026 at 7:40 PM UTC

"my boy"

bag on your lap, shoes untied, i watch every blink like a timeline. youre my perfect boy, in your imperfect style, messy hair, tired eyes, how do you still look so pretty? dont change a thing, not a thing, stay perfect. youre my perfect boy, driving me crazy, youre perfect for me, not for a movie screen, just this scene.

16

You’re my sun, I’m your moon. “you’re pretty as the moon,” you say— "way prettier". “and you’re bright,” I answer, “you kiss me like the sun.” you light me up from miles away, and I shine back what you give me. Even when we’re apart, we’re still pulling at each other, still finding each other in the dark

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Dec 13, 2025

Dec 13, 2025 at 10:34 PM UTC

"sun to my moon"

You’re my sun, I’m your moon. “you’re pretty as the moon,” you say— "way prettier". “and you’re bright,” I answer, “you kiss me like the sun.” you light me up from miles away, and I shine back what you give me. Even when we’re apart, we’re still pulling at each other, still finding each other in the dark

12

you do this thing to me, like my soul suddenly remembers how to glow. not fireworks, not some dramatic movie moment, just that warm, fizzy pop of a soda being opened on a really good day. that’s the yippie effect. you say my name in that stupid sweet way, and something in my chest does a somersault like it’s trying out for the olympics. i try to play it cool, but my heart is a traitor. it hears your voice and starts wagging its metaphorical tail like “OH MY GOD IT’S HIM, EVERYONE ACT NATURAL.. NO ACTUALLY DON’T, GO FERAL.” and beneath all the jokes and chaos, there’s this steady truth. you make me feel safe, and wanted, and seen, and held, even from what feels like a whole different world. my heart says yippie skippy because you’re my favorite person, my comfort hoodie i don’t even own yet, my calm in the panic, my spark in the grey. you don’t just make me happy. you make me feel alive in the soft way, the good way, the “oh thank god, i found you” way. that’s the biggest yippie of all.

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Nov 23, 2025

Nov 23, 2025 at 9:28 PM UTC

"the yippie effect"

you do this thing to me, like my soul suddenly remembers how to glow. not fireworks, not some dramatic movie moment, just that warm, fizzy pop of a soda being opened on a really good day. that’s the yippie effect. you say my name in that stupid sweet way, and something in my chest does a somersault like it’s trying out for the olympics. i try to play it cool, but my heart is a traitor. it hears your voice and starts wagging its metaphorical tail like “OH MY GOD IT’S HIM, EVERYONE ACT NATURAL.. NO ACTUALLY DON’T, GO FERAL.” and beneath all the jokes and chaos, there’s this steady truth. you make me feel safe, and wanted, and seen, and held, even from what feels like a whole different world. my heart says yippie skippy because you’re my favorite person, my comfort hoodie i don’t even own yet, my calm in the panic, my spark in the grey. you don’t just make me happy. you make me feel alive in the soft way, the good way, the “oh thank god, i found you” way. that’s the biggest yippie of all.

40

theres a whisper under the surface, a ghost of a feeling, not pain, not hunger, just a flicker of remembering. my body hums the tune of an old song I don’t sing anymore, the kind that echoes in the bones even when the mouth stays closed. i dont miss the hurt i miss the quiet it used to bring, the way the noise would stop for half a heartbeat. now i stand in the light, razor set aside, teaching my hands a new kind of stillness. a new kind of quiet, the quiet and peace he brings me, its my hope.

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Nov 6, 2025

Nov 6, 2025 at 2:44 PM UTC

"memory of the skin"

theres a whisper under the surface, a ghost of a feeling, not pain, not hunger, just a flicker of remembering. my body hums the tune of an old song I don’t sing anymore, the kind that echoes in the bones even when the mouth stays closed. i dont miss the hurt i miss the quiet it used to bring, the way the noise would stop for half a heartbeat. now i stand in the light, razor set aside, teaching my hands a new kind of stillness. a new kind of quiet, the quiet and peace he brings me, its my hope.

19

the moon’s like me, half okay on its own, but when it finds its other light, its other half, it glows different. softer, braver, like it finally remembers who it was shining for all along.

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Nov 2, 2025

Nov 2, 2025 at 12:47 PM UTC

"the moon's like me"

the moon’s like me, half okay on its own, but when it finds its other light, its other half, it glows different. softer, braver, like it finally remembers who it was shining for all along.

8

The moon waits for us, two shadows beneath its light, together at last.

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Sep 28, 2025

Sep 28, 2025 at 2:52 PM UTC

"the waiting moon"

The moon waits for us, two shadows beneath its light, together at last.

3

I keep catching myself thinking about this one thing, soft, perfect, the kind of comfort i shouldnt miss this much. i picture it in my arms, not imagined, not far away, but real, something i can feel breathing, like its close enough to keep forever. and i know exactly what I’m wishing for. not just a stuffy, but my stuffy. the one that feels a little too perfect to exist, except, you do.

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Sep 15, 2025

Sep 15, 2025 at 6:51 PM UTC

"stuffy"

I keep catching myself thinking about this one thing, soft, perfect, the kind of comfort i shouldnt miss this much. i picture it in my arms, not imagined, not far away, but real, something i can feel breathing, like its close enough to keep forever. and i know exactly what I’m wishing for. not just a stuffy, but my stuffy. the one that feels a little too perfect to exist, except, you do.

16

you make the world softer, like morning light through blinds. yet somehow heavier too.. like a weight i dont want to set down just to prove my strength every laugh with you fills the cracks I thought would stay forever, but loving you also opens doors to fears i've nailed shut. i hold your hand and feel so soft yet breakable, like glass wrapped in velvet. you are the calm and the storm, and I am always both grateful and afraid. still i choose the risk, the way my chest twists around your name. because even though its complicated, you are worth it.

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Sep 14, 2025

Sep 14, 2025 at 7:55 PM UTC

"you"

you make the world softer, like morning light through blinds. yet somehow heavier too.. like a weight i dont want to set down just to prove my strength every laugh with you fills the cracks I thought would stay forever, but loving you also opens doors to fears i've nailed shut. i hold your hand and feel so soft yet breakable, like glass wrapped in velvet. you are the calm and the storm, and I am always both grateful and afraid. still i choose the risk, the way my chest twists around your name. because even though its complicated, you are worth it.

19

The pills smooth the static, quiet the rattling wires in my chest. For a while, I remember what it feels like to breathe without splinters. But the bell rings, the halls swarm, and suddenly the air is teeth again. every glance is a spotlight, every sound, a hammer. My calm dissolves under fluorescent ceilings an hour at a time— until the medicine feels like water poured into. a. burning. house. ... I swallow each dose like a prayer, but school drowns it out, and I’m left wondering if healing is meant to vanish the moment I walk through those doors. I drag myself through the weeks and the noise, holding a bottle that promises more than it delivers. Maybe it’s me. Maybe nothing’s enough to quiet a storm that keeps finding new ways to break. and so i keep swallowing, keep hoping, keep sitting in classrooms where my heartbeat is louder than the teacher’s voice— pretending the medicine is working, pretending i am too.

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Sep 11, 2025

Sep 11, 2025 at 7:26 PM UTC

"they almost worked"

The pills smooth the static, quiet the rattling wires in my chest. For a while, I remember what it feels like to breathe without splinters. But the bell rings, the halls swarm, and suddenly the air is teeth again. every glance is a spotlight, every sound, a hammer. My calm dissolves under fluorescent ceilings an hour at a time— until the medicine feels like water poured into. a. burning. house. ... I swallow each dose like a prayer, but school drowns it out, and I’m left wondering if healing is meant to vanish the moment I walk through those doors. I drag myself through the weeks and the noise, holding a bottle that promises more than it delivers. Maybe it’s me. Maybe nothing’s enough to quiet a storm that keeps finding new ways to break. and so i keep swallowing, keep hoping, keep sitting in classrooms where my heartbeat is louder than the teacher’s voice— pretending the medicine is working, pretending i am too.

34

It waits in corners, a whisper dressed in shadows, calling me back with promises of silence. The thought presses sharp against the edge of my mind, like a blade I no longer hold but still remember. Some nights it hums like a song I once knew by heart, soft, dangerous, asking me to sing along. But my hands stay empty. My skin stays whole. I breathe through the ache and let the music pass. I will not dance to that rhythm again. Even if it circles me forever, I keep walking forward.

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Aug 20, 2025

Aug 20, 2025 at 10:34 AM UTC

"a forbidden dance"

It waits in corners, a whisper dressed in shadows, calling me back with promises of silence. The thought presses sharp against the edge of my mind, like a blade I no longer hold but still remember. Some nights it hums like a song I once knew by heart, soft, dangerous, asking me to sing along. But my hands stay empty. My skin stays whole. I breathe through the ache and let the music pass. I will not dance to that rhythm again. Even if it circles me forever, I keep walking forward.

20