There is no denying it
Curtains closed
Sins confessed
all that's left-
is hope for judgment
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 9:56 AM UTC
I must not keep you in closed fists
I must open them and let you fall away
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 9:45 AM UTC
When you left, I flooded the pages with tears
I adorned each line with the ocean inside of me
It ran as deep as my love for you
- and as endless as my pain
I sobbed so long the angels came
They offered to sit with me
Yet, I turned them away
I told them to leave
For the agony I faced
Shall be my reminder of you
As these tear-filled pages remind me
Of a love that once was
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 9:39 AM UTC
His warm body
melted my cold heart
There it was - all along
He was my key
solution during my tribunals
sweetness and substance
that nourished my bitter heart
back to life
Why must I see this now
standing in your shadow
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 9:33 AM UTC
I pray for the days that feel better
But I appreciate now
for it makes me bask
in the good
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 9:28 AM UTC
and she screams
antagonizing the voices in her head
bonding with her wounds
blinding her own eyes
both stuck
and constantly moving at once
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 9:24 AM UTC
How can they call it “childhood trauma”
when it feels as if my childhood never ended?
At what level,
at what distance, must I measure
the true length of my youthful mind?
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 9:20 AM UTC
I want to make a movie
To mark my name - To do my hair
To watch it fall like lions mane
Opening Closets to feel the chill & rain
A hat, A hood - I can't deny
I know theres something deep inside
The air bites soft, rain drips down
The cars drift down the street
I take a chance - to record the sky
The clouds, the grey
The peace grows high
To walk, to run, to film the hunt
I heal my mind tremendously.
Each frame, each strep
The light grows relentelsly
I Now can fly
Through heavy thoughts I sore
A fight I never lost
This lens, my sheild - my chosen war
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 8:50 AM UTC
The ledge, The ledge, The ledge.
Holding bottles, bodies and blood.
Covered in clutter and cute.
The ledge, the ledge.
Then the pangs rang out.
Bottles and bodies dropping to the floor.
Screams made only from pain and pleasure.
The euphoria of freedom paired with the pain of escape.
To fall, To flee from
The Ledge.
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 8:43 AM UTC