I wish the world would go ahead without me
I wish time would freeze for me
I want the tulips to stop growing
I wish death would shake my hand
I want life to stop patting me on the head
I wish to be captured in a moment on a carousel
Just spinning spinning spinning
May 22
May 22, 2026 at 4:41 AM UTC
I keep writing the story where my forgiveness is stitched in the fabric.
Where they look at me with eyes of hope.
I keep writing the story where I push them away first.
Convincing myself I was the strong one.
I keep writing the story where they accept me
And I run away because I know it isn't true.
In every story I'm the version of myself whose not disillusioned
Whose wisdom is more than her joy.
In every story I know what I did and I didn't think people would forget.
Sitting here after is like sitting surrounded by floor plans of a thousand to be built houses.
Sitting knowing that I've already built the house.
I've already made my bed.
And now I must lie in it.
Knowing I never made the right choice to change those plans in the first place.
It's drafty and it's empty.
And the wind whispers over and over.
I can never call this sanctuary.
The furniture is in the wrong color, the paint already cracked.
It smells like crack in here.
I can't leave.
So I stay outside in the garden. In the rain. And ignore the ugly house.
And all of my shame.
I laugh with them at my own stupidity.
Even as my eyes burn.
Even as my soul yearns.
Living as a mockery just to be chosen slightly.
I keep writing me as the party but the story keeps calling me a joke.
May 17
May 17, 2026 at 11:54 AM UTC
one last thing before you go
you left your scarf behind
ive never seen you wear a scarf
not in real life
you held my hand to let it go
i only held on tighter
let me go
i wish i said that
maybe i did
maybe it's true
you let me go but i already stopped holding
this isn't really a poem, is it?
no but neither were we not poem not prose not perfect
no peace
we never were good for each other
or maybe we were too good
ill hold your hand next time
(i would rather hold coal)
Mar 30
Mar 30, 2026 at 6:38 PM UTC
I just turned 20.
I've lived way too long to be this young.
And yet I'm too old to feel this young.
I feel 14 and 17 what do you mean I'm 20 I was just 16 yesterday.
But I feel 40. I feel old. So old.
I'm not the person I wanted to be at 20.
I'm not a person I wanted to be at all.
But I wouldn't want to be someone else.
They say slow down. Enjoy your teens.
Did I?
Don't tell me I'm 20. I didn't even want to reach here thought I'd be dead by now.
Don't tell me I'm 20. I'll just remember. I don't want to remember.
I want to something other than 20.
I want to be 14.
Writing my first stories even though they were **** wrecks.
I want to be 17.
Believing I had found home.
I want to be me.
Back when I thought happiness was simple.
They all stand at the door.
14. 17. 5.
Holding out their hand.
I should take it.
But I need to be 20.
So I smile and I whisper thank you.
Thank you for giving me 20.
Anyway. Thoughts.
Don't wish me happy birthday I'll just get depressed.
Mar 30
Mar 30, 2026 at 6:31 PM UTC
I can't cry over you so instead I'll cry over children killed by wars over children who smile through abuse over moms hating their daughters and pretend I'm crying because I care because it's just so sad
the thing is
I wouldn't have cried if it weren't for you
Feb 1
Feb 1, 2026 at 7:52 PM UTC
What do you want
You want my time?
Sure
My clock stopped ticking anyways
You want my company?
Alright
But I can't promise it will be enjoyable
You want my heart?
Take it
I have no use for it anyways
You want my life?
If that's what you want
I'll hand it to you on a golden platter with a smile
You want my soul?
Take it take it take it
It's not doing me good anyways
You want me?
I can't see why you'd ask for that
But if it pleases you
Have it
I have everything
I have nothing
All I am is for the world to take
You've taken my tears my blood and my bones
And your eyes plead and plead and plead
Now tell me
What
Do you
Want?
Nov 16, 2025
Nov 16, 2025 at 12:04 PM UTC
I'm like a rich man who scoffed at an orphan girl, five years down the line
Scouring the streets for a loaf of bread with a crazed look in his eye and the heavy smell of drink around him
His eyes are sunk in and his teeth yellow
To anyone he is foul, beastly, a man so unworthy he is but a smidge on the earth
A skid mark under your shoe
A cockroach
But to him the drink smells of regret
The bitter in his mouth tastes like mourning of what he should have said
His eyes hold the sorrow of a thousand memories
A thousand gratitudes he should have made
He is all but waiting for the orphan to glance at him
And give him the fairy tale ending of forgiveness
But the girl has long left the city
He is waiting for a phantom
And the next best thing
Death
Nov 1, 2025
Nov 1, 2025 at 2:10 PM UTC
You visit my dreams every night
You visit them to watch me
Always a shadow
Always in the side-lines
Standing in the crowd
On tiptoes your fingers in your mouth
Watching me beat my opponents
Bounce around the ring
I was never one for softness but I'm harsher now
I didn’t want to tell you I noticed you
I knew how you would
In your time
Come to me
I knew what you would say
And I wasn’t sure I was ready for it
I don't think I'll ever be
Tonight though
You’re ready, aren’t you
I recognize that look in your eyes
The one that has long since faded in mine
I wipe the blood and sweat off my face and smile wide with all my teeth
Whats left out them
And you grimace
You can tell it's fake
You hug me, and I tear up
Almost
There’s only one thing I must I say
You know it, and I know it
I miss being you
You stall
A Beat a moment a butterfly's wing
Unsure if you want to be honest
But maybe I’ve influenced you too
Because you say it
You say it slowly
With regret marring your face
With dread lining like the blood drying upon my face and your smile
With sadness reflected in your eyes
My eyes reflect yours
And you say it
You say it
Not as much as I regret becoming you
Oct 29, 2025
Oct 29, 2025 at 9:03 AM UTC
You never shared your poems with me
You never told me what happened to your car
And
It's been a week
And
I still talk to you in my head
I still tell you the jokes I would have said
I don't care
I don't
I don't
I don't
My dreams laugh at me
Inviting you every day
Can you please stop accepting the invitation?
I swear I don't care
My daydreams smirk and nudge each other
Snickering and whispering
Sneaking peeks at the blurry version of you drinking tea in my kitchen
You've never been in my kitchen
And I am not one for tea
I do not care
I never did
Who am I kidding
I let you go now
Go on then shoo
Please
For the love of all things precious
Get out
I give you
Permission
Oct 20, 2025
Oct 20, 2025 at 1:32 AM UTC
I still know your favorite color
I still know how hard you work
I still know your favorite chocolate
I still know the way you write
I still have your photos
I still have the lessons you taught me
I still have your voicenotes
I still have the happiness you brought me
I still remember your family
I still remember all your laughs
I still remember your cats
I still remember how you said I love you
I still love you
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 4:45 AM UTC