I know when you close your eyes the tentacular black monster of oblivion comes to gawk at your feebility. There you are, on your path of misery and broken bottles. This time, I’ll make sure heaven won’t pick up thte pieces.
Because the man at the end of the road. He’s got them now.
Sep 18, 2022
Sep 18, 2022 at 8:12 PM UTC
Much rather than having her dead. Let her live and let her loll in my joys, beauty, and happiness. whilst her soul is stripped naked and humanity no longer resides in her, nor will she know the ease of humility.
Aug 18, 2021
Aug 18, 2021 at 3:36 PM UTC
The light at the end of the tunnel
It was never dark, but just a little less bright
It’s like finally feeling the mild spring air
After a bitter winter
The type of bitter that makes you forget what the sun is like
The type of air that kisses your skin
Kisses your soul
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 8:32 PM UTC
only the tough survive. Is it really that simple, and so very primal? Has humankind over complicated itself to the point, where when we get a simple outcome, it muddles our brain?Because it seems like these adversities that I am faced with, and forced to go with, is just what everyone else in the world is too. Life is a beautiful thing to be given, but you also have to act like it is. Everything that is tangible to the eye to see, it is here, because it's been able to survive through hardships. The small, seemingly magical moments that break-up the discomfort of the everyday, which is what makes everything worth living through.Even in this pandemic, and universal upheaval, there have been small moments of bliss for myself, and the collective included.
Feb 16, 2021
Feb 16, 2021 at 5:03 PM UTC
Saturday nights.
Early 20s
In the limbo of wanting to savor my youth, but growing tired of my lack of responsibility.
Feb 16, 2021
Feb 16, 2021 at 4:54 PM UTC
A hurt heart is as tender as the morning fog sitting up in a desolate lake. It’s thick and it stings your bones. It clouds your vision. You can’t see through the thick murky mist. It’s like the sorrow of the past making it’s home in your heart, sitting up in bed and gazing through the windows of your soul.
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 11:09 AM UTC
The walls, painted with the gloss of all the secrets that you and only you know, or the stuffed animal that has caught your tears through life’s afflictions. Or, the comforter that has kept you warm through those times where you swore this was the night your blood will run cold. Theres a furry, doe eyed, four legged creature of the heart, though there isn't an utter of any sort from either entity, there is a knowing. Stripped to your raw essence, he understands without question.
Dec 26, 2020
Dec 26, 2020 at 11:55 AM UTC
It is a torture of sort. The uneasiness of where the road can lead to, with only a few things that we know and hold true.. we endlessly hold out, all of our lives, we hold a lantern into the thick dark fissure of life until something of habitual significance comes along…then, we linger, again, for an encore.
Dec 25, 2020
Dec 25, 2020 at 9:23 PM UTC
I feel like I’m swimming with my eyes closed, nose to nose with you. you are wide eyed, and its then I see your light, even through the most rayless of times.
Dec 25, 2020
Dec 25, 2020 at 9:07 PM UTC
You opened me up, but before you even saw what was inside, you left me with a gushing wound.Blood on my hands, and my hand on my chest. Im running in circles, but you’re hiding in the corner.
Dec 25, 2020
Dec 25, 2020 at 8:49 PM UTC