🎼🎶“Forgive me
for the wrong that I do.
I know I’m not perfect,
That’s far from the truth.
Religion ain’t quite
my relationship with you.
I speak for the broken,
I speak for the youth.
There’s gonna be better days,
I gotta see it through.
Lost, in a maze,
I’m crying out for you.
Feeling stuck in a daze,
I want to make it through.
No, this ain’t a phase,
Nah, I gotta stay true.
Expectation around me arise.
Looking down,
cause there’s no where to hide.
I pour out what I’m feeling inside.
Hoping someone out there can relate.
I’m tired of acting like it’s always ok.
I’m tired of fronting with a smile on my face.
I’m allowed to be down, It’s ok.
I’m just a human, I’m not tryna fake.
I ain’t Superman, there’s no cape.
This ain’t Hollywood, there’s no takes.
People wanna talk down when you away.
Holy Spirit be telling me everything.
Stop tryna be perfect,
You can’t do it.
And stop being so easily influenced.
Can’t listen to everyone with advice,
Cause wolves can come in sheep’s clothing.
Not pessimistic, I’m just bold with it.
Not so submissive, I just roll with it.
I know who I am,
You can’t tell me different.
I’ve been through so much,
you wouldn’t even listen.
I repeat myself so much,
And no one listens.
I’m about to go off,
It feels like I’m dissing.
Let me get my thoughts off,
And then I’m dipping.
I’m gonna speak my mind,
You can tell me I’m tripping.
I’m not keeping my feelings
anymore fenced in.
And I’m being more cautious
about who I let in.
God, I hope you hear this therapy session.
I’m just giving you
everything that my best is.”🎼🎶
🎤 Artist: aftrthght
May 21
May 21, 2026 at 6:26 AM UTC
Moonlight glittered softly
through the breathing waves,
not warm enough to heal me —
only kind enough to stay.
Perhaps the moon and I
were made just alike,
silver on the surface,
starving underneath.
Those hands feel like harbor light,
that calm the edges of my inner night,
yet even gentle love can’t fully reach
the parts of me still learning how to breathe.
I stay beside what I have chosen here,
though something in me still holds fear,
as if the heart, once taught to brace,
forgets how to rest in softer space.
And so I move like tide meets shore,
pulling close, then pulling more,
a quiet war between release
and the wish to finally find inner peace.
May 15
May 15, 2026 at 12:58 PM UTC
I keep a match beneath my tongue,
pray the smoke don’t reach my lungs.
Heaven’s light still hits my skin,
even knowing where I’ve been.
Maybe I’m a coward too,
hiding what I know is true.
Maybe I just learned to dance
with doom dressed up like circumstance.
I have begged for clearer signs,
read between Your borrowed lines.
Tell me if this fire’s Yours,
why it burns but still feels warm.
I don’t want to lose Your face
chasing something dressed like grace.
What if what I call a spark
is just a lantern in the dark?
What if I can’t tell apart
Your voice from my own desperate heart?
May 14
May 14, 2026 at 1:31 PM UTC
a house
with all the lights still on
somehow colder after dawn;
floorboards creaking, restless air
like something missing lingered there.
a shadow
stitched beneath the skin,
a quiet war no one could win.
windows locked, curtains drawn tight
a storm cloud trapped inside the night.
no broken vase,
no slammed front door;
still discomfort crossed the floor
like static humming through the walls
waiting for the dark to fall.
some storms arrive
without a sound
turning whole rooms upside down,
then leave as softly as they came,
without a reason or a name.
May 11
May 11, 2026 at 3:01 PM UTC
Yesterday, I was a room
with too many doors slamming at once,
each small hinge crying out like doom,
every sound too sharp to ignore.
Nothing was wrong…
which was the problem I wore.
A storm with no sky to belong,
striking anything that felt like more.
I waited for reason
to rise and steady my head,
to give this chaos a season,
to name what burned where I bled.
But nothing came forward,
just noise I couldn’t outrun,
something almost breaking, unheard…
and nowhere to set it— none.
May 5
May 5, 2026 at 7:42 AM UTC
I didn’t see it start this way…
just something small begin to change,
a quiet shift I couldn’t name,
like I had slowly rearranged.
Not broken, no—just out of place,
like moving walls inside my chest,
some rooms I never meant to make,
And cut corners, I had to take.
Some feel like courage in my bones,
like speaking thoughts I used to hide,
like standing taller in my skin,
with nothing left I need to disguise.
And some feel like I’ve misplaced
a kind of peace I used to keep—
the way I held myself together
without needing something deep.
Am I becoming someone new?…
I feel it more with every day,
but I don’t know which parts of me
are truly mine, or just the ones that’s slipped away.
Some days it feels like I have grown
into a self I’ve never known,
and other days it feels like I
have left behind what felt like my name.
And I can’t tell what’s gain or loss,
what’s fleeting, what is meant to stay…
if I am finding something more,
or slowly giving myself away.
May 4
May 4, 2026 at 7:19 AM UTC
it moves like honey
in cold air,
slow as thought
that goes nowhere.
time forgets to
call it by name,
and drifts right past,
just the same.
will lies folded
on the floor,
like laundry left
beside a door.
even dreams
sit half-awake,
too still to form,
too soft to take.
a quiet pause
the world lets be.
a drifting spell of
“eventually.”
not gone,
not lost,
not meant to run,
just lingering
where nothing’s done.
May 3
May 3, 2026 at 4:46 PM UTC
After the day dissolves,
what’s left is borrowed air.
A quiet room still humming
with versions of me I’m not sure were ever there.
It all felt real, surreal, and unreal
like the hours unreeling themselves
into moments I thought had passed.
Yet still, I remain…
Not certain, not sure
of where I really begun or if I was ever borrowed in the past… ?
May 3
May 3, 2026 at 4:29 PM UTC
A small sun rests in careful hands,
a quiet, glowing weight—
warm enough to cradle close,
too bright to hide away.
Once stolen by the waiting sky
before the dawn could claim,
it drifted,
lost in open air,
without a voice or a name.
Now ripening along the edge
where night and silence meet,
it trembles at the tender line
where hush and heartbeat speak.
And ready or not,
it leans to rise,
through seams it cannot stay—
it splits, it slips, it softly spills,
and sings itself awake.
May 3
May 3, 2026 at 3:57 PM UTC
You ever feel the edges of the quiet?
not heavy,
just… there,
like something sitting in the room
that knows you’ll let it stay there?
I’ve lived inside of passing things,
of almosts,
come and gone,
of something warm for just enough
to notice when it’s done.
I learned to carry little weight,
to pack and not unfold,
to keep things close but never close
enough to fully hold.
There’s one that stayed—longer than most,
not forever, yet still,
a steady shape that didn’t fade,
that time refused to spill.
While others blur like distant sounds
I swore I once knew through,
now soft as something half-remembered,
fading out of view.
And I don’t ache for something more,
don’t chase what never grew—
some days I want a crowded room,
some days I choose the view
of empty space that doesn’t ask
for more than what is true—
not lonely, not exactly full…
just the quiet I grew into.
May 3
May 3, 2026 at 8:26 AM UTC