I hate her.
I hate the way I am her cigarette and she the smoker,
consuming me slowly,
drawing me into her lungs
until my once glowing light thins to ash.
Every inhale makes me smaller and smaller,
letting pieces of me drift away into the air.
She crushes what remains of me with her heel.
I hate how I was once grown and nourished in her womb
and that all I now ask while staring into her unfeeling eyes is to be loved.
To be considered and to be held.
To be her daughter again.
But most of all, I hate how I don’t even truly hate her.
I wish I could forgive her for how I know believe that love is this:
constant hurt and pleading for someone to choose me.
Looking over the dimly lit street,
I see the faint outline of a mother and daughter,
hands enlaced,
and the sound of calm laughter
gradually becoming louder
and more mocking.
Envy sharply stings my ribcage
but sorrow lingers deep beneath,
like a painful bruise.
Finishing her cigarette and flicking me to the concrete,
sparks crackling on impact,
my mother twists her heel deeper and deeper until the ember surrenders.
One last hard grind of her shoe and my remaining light is smeared into ash,
the Rizla splitting open under her shoe.
My insides are scattered in grey dust.
May 11
May 11, 2026 at 3:45 PM UTC
crazy klepto nepo baby
esoteric and apologetic
having heartbreaks and toothaches
field trips and explicit clips
poetry books and deceiving looks
endless games with forgettable names
revealing lace beneath her face
a heart of stone under her bones
as wild as any summer storm
defying every social norm
Mind clad with iron, she never grows sad
But after each night
The glow of her light dims away.
Apr 27
Apr 27, 2026 at 1:58 PM UTC
leafing through my threads,
i thought about the cut ones, the ones that had been severed too soon,
too early, and only the frayed ends remained.
all entwined and tangled now.
i missed the time when they were all organised,
but now, i found my indulgent vermillion
looped between sage, violets and sky blues.
none the actual colour they claimed to be
and i sat as dusk faded into night and into sunrise
for days, weeks, months
time passed, or perhaps it stopped?
just for me, as i untangled my threads,
but desperate as i was
they only seemed to grow more knotted,
as though they had coils of steel
rather than the soft textile i was so familiar with.
but for all my efforts,
i had failed to see my own threads begin to unravel too.
Mar 4
Mar 4, 2026 at 2:24 PM UTC
i'll run my fingers through your hair
and it will fall apart.
you'll run yours through mine, for all i care,
but it was over from the start.
your scent is oddly comforting,
i think, as i glance down at your pale legs
but the look in your eye, telling
me everything. Don't be someone who begs
me for love at three in the morning
i'm probably watching lesbian ****
when you talk, i always find myself yawning.
and i guess, your heart will be torn
into tiny pieces.
it's completely my fault
that our conversations will soon cease
i love you as much as i love salt.
Mar 2
Mar 2, 2026 at 4:11 PM UTC
i never left our favourite place
a dusty staircase, quiet
and old, sunlight would splay
against the wood and the dust in the air
looked like tiny fairies. we used to sit there
without a care in the world.
And now i tread up and down them
from time to time
and i always remember our
silly conversations;
dreams and hopes, strange realisations, useless gossip and seemingly endless homework and school and home again and loves and crushes and friends and fetishes and clothes and places and food
and i loved those stairs.
it’s strange that i always walk them alone now.
i don’t think i could have fathomed that back then, sitting with my back against the wall, ready to take on the whole world, so ready to live, and now that i am living, i crave those stairs once more.
i don’t think i ever left them, only took breaks
maybe a long break, maybe a short one
but at the end of the day, i could come back to them
and i came back to them.
but upon doing so realised that
there was simply no one beside me.
Mar 2
Mar 2, 2026 at 12:05 PM UTC
i was crying over something
that i could not yet name.
just a fleeting emotion,
so heavy, like a thunderous wave,
yet with the grace of a nymph’s whispers
in a forest in summer,
sunlight laying in fragments, filtering through the leaves.
it was longing for everything that could have been.
everything that i ever was, everything that i had been.
everything at once
i was a canvas being painted in midnight blues, fresh reds, like tiny blossoms gleaming in the moonlit night.
the brush was always so gentle on my skin.
and yet, i felt as though i was being struck each time.
but i wasn’t crying anymore.
just living, accepting and breathing and
living.
Mar 1
Mar 1, 2026 at 6:57 PM UTC
The reality in front of me is ignored
as soon as i open up my laptop-
Addiction is a killer.
Or so i have heard
from my beloved
online safety haven.
us with our own circle in hell
with our own sick and twisted desires
and with our unwound moral
compasses, spinning like a ballerina
wavering, like she is nervous and anxious
on the world stage, eyes looking straight through her
and she knows, she knows that the eyes are meaningless and cruel
and yet she cannot help but crave their presence, their reassurance, their approving nods and silent praise.
i suppose my cravings are not equally matched
i take more and more, until my eyes roll back
and for a brief period, washed over with a blanket of contentment
but the blanket is ripped away suddenly-
and the harsh light of day dawns upon me
and i am going to be late to school.
Mar 1
Mar 1, 2026 at 3:56 PM UTC
once the boats were bunt (finally)
and once you left,
i pulled my duvet up
and let the waves of the tragedy crash over me
Take me as a prisoner of their storm.
crying, but with dry eyes,
fists seeking the damp sheets
mulling over the words spoken, the lies
wondering how next you'll greet me
with a warm smile, or an expression of indifference?
i hoped for the former but knew i'd receive the latter
nothing even matters anymore because this was perfect
and i turn, and it's the ghost of your presence
fading warmth, lingering perfume
and i wish the teardrops would stop falling!
and i wish this didn't happen
and i wish you didn't leave
me alone with a phantom, and drowning, and not knowing how to swim-
and that swimming even exists in such a storm
and i wish you didn't make this storm
But really, we were both the clashes
of rainclouds, so dark and deviant
but with so much on our chests
but then i was on your chest
and then the storm happened
But somehow the storm has passed and the ghost had left
and now i'm washed up at a new shore.
Feb 25
Feb 25, 2026 at 5:45 PM UTC
a vice-like grip
i had on your fingers,
How fine and soft your hair was, i kept thinking
to run my fingers through the strands
while you unspun me, like tangled yarn
coaxing...clinical. Transactions.
But i had to save face
so instead i focused on your fingers
entwined in mine, palm to palm
skin to skin
skin to soul
Seeing me, and i wonder what thoughts you had
what emotions
what intentions
what love?
what wanting
what needing
what were we
and in a way
i'm glad i left the stands, silken and loose and so fine
i would have clung on for dear life
and would never wish to let go.
Feb 25
Feb 25, 2026 at 4:41 PM UTC
It's my defect, I say, my flaw.
"Don't worry, there's only a little."
You say, my hands in your hair, my nails are rather brittle.
"It's completely legal. We're abiding by the law".
You know, I say, they used to be bright red,
And if you lift my dress-
There you would have: my own man-made mess.
"Nonetheless. They don't matter to me. Come back to bed."
And I say, no, I think not,
I should be in therapy, looking at a Rorschach chart
Should be in a gallery, admiring the figurative art.
I don't need you, I am the kettle, and you are the ***
Feb 23
Feb 23, 2026 at 11:29 AM UTC