We silently communicate
in the middle of chaos
Understanding one another
With true love between our souls
As we embrace each other in the solitude
Nov 18, 2025
Nov 18, 2025 at 3:30 PM UTC
Once whispered words, now filled with might
Make their way to stars tonight.
The clouds have cleared, the rains have dried,
And all's revealed in shining light.
The silent sky could not comply
With dizzy dreams that I supplied.
This much I knew, I can't deny.
For had I tried, I would have cried
As the stars said their goodbye.
At last I'm free,
Free as can be,
Free to see with novel eyes
The sky that once eluded me.
And from the sky, a star descends—
My dearest friend, to sit by me,
And watch the sky as nights pass by,
Side by side, eternally.
Nov 18, 2025
Nov 18, 2025 at 3:29 PM UTC
Who am I?
Like a newborn root it grows in my mind,
A feeling of displacement,
Like I’m lost inside.
Maybe it’s why I can’t accept love,
Why I push it away like a dead dove.
I talk about some of it but by no means all,
For in the background a demon stands tall.
What hurt was the hate
But what killed me was learning late.
It’s the smile you give because you’re a burden;
It’s the bags you get under your eyes because you try so hard;
It’s taking medicine to sleep at all.
It’s being second almost every time,
And if you’re first it’s rarely long;
It’s the mustering of will to get out of bed;
It’s the constant thoughts in your head like scribbles on a page
That you can’t consolidate or confine;
It’s July fourteenth;
It’s hiding who you are.
It’s not wanting to die
But wanting to gift others with your nonexistence;
Who would even notice?
It’s not keeping a relationship
Because you don’t know how to let out all the love
Trapped inside your heart;
It’s being solitary because you don’t know how to ask for help;
It’s staying up late and waking up early
Because you couldn’t stop thinking;
It’s remembering and then doing drugs to forget.
It’s having silent contemplations of death over life,
Weighing pros and cons with a knife;
It’s helping others to maybe find a way to help yourself;
It’s helping others because you don’t want them to feel like you.
It’s feeling out of place wherever you are;
It’s being lonely with so many friends;
It’s hating yourself no matter what.
It’s more than an ‘illness’,
It’s a way of life.
It’s feeling so desolate that you begin to find comfort in it
And feel uncomfortable in natural happiness.
It’s seeing your heart get broken over and over
And still going back;
It’s seeing your soul lose its light but still trusting;
It’s seeing you lose you
Until you become so lost that you look back
And find little pieces of your shattered self.
It’s who I am.
Nov 5, 2025
Nov 5, 2025 at 2:39 PM UTC
“Why’d you do it?”
Is what they all keep asking me.
I tell them “I don’t know”,
But in reality:
I drank for many reasons;
Because it made me understand love.
I married Mary-Jane
To take my stress away.
I swallowed diphenhydramine,
Pill after pill,
So I could have friends there even if they weren’t real.
Three or more Dramamine to shut down my mind,
Wrong-wired,
But it only succeeded in making me all the more tired.
Ten dollars for happiness was a deal to me;
Who knew it was out in the world for free?
I went from riches to rags in wealth and character
And lost myself to all my self-terror.
Lines of white like snow on the ground
To let others know I wanted to be found.
A small pill full of a deadly drug,
Gone, all because I needed a hug.
Six-to-eight or three-to-four,
I was an inch away from knocking on Death’s door;
The pillows in my head made me blind to the horror.
Molly without music to make music in my mind,
An escape from all my thoughts confined
To a space in my head where they didn’t fit
And now they’re everywhere,
So I’m taking a hit.
Bars to fall asleep not at but with,
Stronger than the pink tablets I was familiar with;
So strong they made me forget
About the only night I didn’t want to regret.
And yet every morning I awoke with an ache,
In my bones and my eyes because I made a mistake;
“It won’t happen again,” I said time after time,
But then it grew closer to a dozen a dime.
So why’d I do it?
I’d say it’s clear.
I had all my reasons,
But mostly it was fear.
Nov 5, 2025
Nov 5, 2025 at 2:37 PM UTC
Mourning Doves surround my mind,
What a testimony to confused bliss!
I see snow falling from molten trees
Filled with eternally ****** souls.
I hear their desperate screams
Just barely over my denatured brain.
Oh, what a beautiful day!
I laugh and skip along the path,
Taking in all the senses as the wind picks up,
And a fallen butterfly with an arrow through its heart.
Then he is flying in my stomach
The point tearing a ****
A deep wound in my fragile soul.
So much snow the walls are nearly white.
Soft but not brittle cries
Like the cold spites my bones.
At the end is a figure
Who stops me in my tracks.
The bark should be unbreakable!
It’s a blizzard and the walls are white.
I stand so chromatically out a moment,
Given the minority tears from my eyes.
The rain splats on the pavement.
He is gone, come the melancholy.
Swept away by all who is.
He left with the pitter-patter,
And he left me in white.
Nov 5, 2025
Nov 5, 2025 at 2:33 PM UTC
I feel as if there is blood on my hands;
Tiny splatters that resemble sand,
This is not a beach, no–
But there is an ocean somewhere,
And I’m drowning in it;
I fear I cannot be saved.
I see so much more as I go down below,
The more brightly each fish seems to shine,
Yet they are too far away for their paths to brighten mine.
Deep beneath these waves of contempt,
Underneath layers and layers of hair unkempt,
Lies the answer to mankind’s curse.
I doubt it shall ever be found,
Or has it been already buried underground?
Perhaps it is what we once wished to be,
A memoir of all the places that we wished to see;
Perhaps it is all the times we do not regret,
Or a collection of our promises not kept;
Maybe it is simply full of our hearts,
And all of our sentiments of love.
It may only contain a silver key,
Laden with jade and many sea-weeds,
Unlocking a door that we cannot find.
If I shed all my tears and–I cry,
Will life still just pass me by?
I guess I will finally know once it is too late,
For it is impossible to deviate on the path of fate.
All of this exits from my head,
A portrait of my visions as I lie in bed.
I have lied to you as does the dying crow,
For I do not fear untraveled waters, no;
I am not plagued by aqueous nightmares of blue–
But rather I am tortured
By dreams that never did come true.
Nov 5, 2025
Nov 5, 2025 at 2:32 PM UTC
It is asked what my mind sounds like,
And I tell them it is a beautiful hell.
It sounds like some distant memory,
So foggy it’s almost forgotten;
Like a dream you always loved
But never could quite marry.
I have become Lover to the moon,
In my searching for something great.
My mind is fuzzy;
It is filled with blizzard snow.
When I try to make sense of it all,
I lose my magic touch;
So instead I sit in the dark
And stare at the ceiling,
Knowing only how to miss–
Whether it be something real or simply this.
In this world we only know to suffer
And we learn to call it a gift.
We cannot trace back to where we began.
THe time has been set for all of man,
And it is running out.
What are we to do?
Must we sit back and watch Rome burn?
I haven’t a violin–
And at night day does return,
But only in pieces…
It can never be one.
Gross indifference from some after-life,
Ravens and doves echo through the night.
I think they are searching somewhere for a home
That I know they will never find.
They are doomed creatures–
Doomed of peace and doomed of love;
And yet they once held hands,
Betrothed to the sun.
You all walk through the hell that is my brain,
And you will find only rust and fired-rain;
You will feel only hurt and pain,
You will find my bed of nails already to be lain.
While the wealthy profit and prosper from greed,
With the poor…we lead.
And so to you, reader,
My heart I give;
For I fear both death and life,
Which can be no way to live.
We are cursed,
For we cannot unlearn our human nature–
So ask again what must my mind plays,
And I shall tell you all on the break of day,
Between shards of dawn and dusk,
On piano keys craft of elephant tusk.
You will listen until you break as well,
As day earlier did,
And then I will have no more to tell.
Forgive me for my mistakes,
But you forgot God’s only sin:
That he created us,
And he made us all but human.
Nov 5, 2025
Nov 5, 2025 at 2:29 PM UTC
It’s living there; its form unbridled and wick’d
Like a candle burnt down to a tiny width.
The wax trickles down as it breathes its final breath,
And it gently becomes cradled by death.
But imagine if that light could continue to burn,
How much from a fire we do not think to learn.
What if we could turn time backwards,
To before the wick was lighted?
If it never burns,
It cannot die.
What a tragedy,
When memories cry.
Somewhere in nature lies our doubt,
In the cracks of knowledge formed by a knowledge-drought.
There can be no rest for the man who runs;
If only man knew we were not the only ones.
To suffer is to live,
And to have joy is to remember the sieve;
If only we knew not how to leave it behind,
Then perhaps we would know a love of some kind.
Now you’ve seen it,
Now you know;
All of the little fragments
Buried beneath the falling snow:
The face of the tormentor
Who lies in my head, emerging–
He leans over,
And he weeps.
Nov 5, 2025
Nov 5, 2025 at 2:28 PM UTC
Reckless in nature and ambitious in self,
The boy meets worlds thinking he can move an ocean shelf.
Quickly he’ll find the world not so kind,
More scarring and sparking doubt within his mind.
Like a seed planted it grows,
Into a tree, a flower’s abode,
Boding pleasure for love and righteousness for blood.
He will learn to hate and fear and cry,
Never learning how to say goodbye.
Dyeing and bleaching his own sense of being,
One next, one past, not one worth seeing.
Blind to the scourge of mankind’s cast,
The show’s leg broken and healed;
Not fast.
Slow to the chase the grasshopper chants,
As the old men start wars and continue their rants.
The turtle and the egg and the chicken and the hare,
Only to find someone sane to be the most rare.
Rarity in forms unbound,
Unable to simply connect to a common fable.
Clarity seen by man unkind,
Foggy vision gained, long behind.
How to catch up,
How to rest,
No possible answer,
When we lost our best.
Best man and bridesmaids betrothed to the sun,
While we are still forever on the run.
The boy is now tamed,
Complacent and lame,
But he possesses not a spirit,
Still wondering who to blame.
Society, government,
Schools, maybe parents, too;
But the only person he finds himself coming to blame
Is all of us; it’s you.
You are us and we are them,
When we are against each other
It shall have no end.
Prophesied by a god untrue,
That when the boy tried to walk,
He only flew.
Wings melted and fall from kingdom,
To a boy who wanted only freedom.
Nov 5, 2025
Nov 5, 2025 at 2:26 PM UTC
In the midst of a field,
They found two shoes:
One was faded teal,
The other was blue.
Lost between stalks of wheat
And a butterfly resting on a flower,
I took a soft seat
And stayed seated for hours.
The fabric is worn,
The laces undone,
I was forlorn;
I knew the darkness had won.
Memories of beauty flashed through my mind,
As I fell far and long behind.
I became bone-straight and *****
Looking for dots I could connect.
Through the corn,
Over the hill;
And as I mourned,
I was not still.
Memories more flashed through my mind–
Why is it that you would hide?
To wait out the pain of life,
To get a break from constant strife,
And where–
Would you hide?
Beneath dandelion petal-tips,
On wine-sullen red lips?
Perhaps you chose different,
To hide in sight,
And I missed you,
Looking for dark rather than light.
I have circled back,
Like time so does.
Will I spend the life I lack
Wondering what all of this was?
In the midst of a river,
They found a shirt:
Old and tattered
And covered in hurt.
I knew at once it was yours,
I would not miss it,
For I was there when it turned coarse,
From sand and stone and wit.
What I sense now is dread,
As hope is quickly leaving.
I would drain the whole riverbed
To find if you were deceiving.
In the midst of my heart,
I found our love:
A little white capsule,
Buried deep in the mud.
I saw it for something more,
A little dove in the sky–
Told me she was torn,
That she had missed her light.
And as soon as she had shown,
She was gone.
In the midst of a wheat field,
Illuminated by golden sun,
They found your shoes;
Not both but just one.
One was blue,
The other teal-green;
One from you,
The other from me.
Off together against the setting sun,
Surrendering in a battle
That we had not won.
In the midst of a field,
They found our shoes,
Mine were faded teal,
And yours were deep blue.
Draped in the light of a brand-new dawn,
We played our own music
While the ghosts sang along.
Nov 5, 2025
Nov 5, 2025 at 2:24 PM UTC