Look down
And you will see me
Staring up into the clouds
Waiting for a strike of lightning
It'll hit you first, my friend
All the way up there
I must admit, I'm lucky sometimes
To be all the way down here
I'm an armrest for your elbow
A joke to make about elves
Being petite must certainly mean
The circus is in town!
I don’t know why you are frightened, sir
I'm giant compared to a homunculus
But anyone small is a threat to the tall
Because we know, you've got smelly armpits
I'm bored of the comedic shock
"Oh wow, you are short!"
Yes in fact, I'm like a spider monkey
Tiny mammals can still tear you apart
Look down, and I'm there
Breaking my neck to see the world
I may not be able to reach everything
But adversity has forced me to acquire… skills
To hardest part is looking up
And demanding to be respected
When people are forced look down on you
It resembles a kid having a tantrum
Being small doesn't really matter to me
It's the tall ones that remind me all the time
If my height is unsettling, look forward
You don't know how easily I can hide
You can't take yourself too seriously
When half the world perceives you as a child
I look up at the clouds, while they're busy looking down
Their limitations are just less obvious than mine
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 4:04 PM UTC
You say
One day
I changed
And I broke your heart
The worst thing
I ever did
Was have birthdays
And become more and more
I broke your heart
Becoming who I am
Surviving the terrain
You laid before me
And when I grew up
My heart died
A harsh thing to realize
You're not who I wanted either
Apr 26
Apr 26, 2026 at 11:05 AM UTC
I am not a talker
I'm a writer
It's not that I can’t talk
Or that I'm bad at it
In fact, I speak very clearly
And eloquently
The difference between talking and writing
Is the reception
Writing doesn't require an immediate response
I can express, not only clear
But free
There are no chains of another thought process on the page
It's just me
Apr 16
Apr 16, 2026 at 12:05 AM UTC
My angels have names
They are Jim, and Annie
Grandparents I was supposed to have
On my father's side
Jim died, three years before
I was alive
And Annie, she lived until
I was almost two
I don't know much about Jim
Fewer than five photos of him remain
I've never heard his voice or,
Gotten to know his expressions
I'm told he was a hard man
That no one could break his stone face
But after he died and before I was alive
He knew me, and smiled
Annie actually got to experience
My bright, brand new eyes
She loved me and held me and,
In her arms I never cried
Still, she was taken
And left me with too many tears
The two who could have loved me
With the deepest purity were gone
I've been reckless, and careless
As taught to me by their son
Some parts of me feel their disappointment
In the work he has done
I wonder how much of my life
Would be different if they were here
Loving me and knowing me
Instead of leaving so painfully soon
And I wonder if my father would have been better
At the paternal task laid before him
Raising me alone without the advice
And influence of his own
Being born with love already removed
Created a lack of protection from those
Who were allowed to stay, and hurt
They know, it's not their fault
Still, I'm grateful because
They are my angels
Parts of me that will always be close
Yet remain, unknown
I wish that I could talk to them
Just once, now that I'm grown
I don’t think Jim would be able to contain his pride
And I think Annie would never let me go
Apr 16
Apr 16, 2026 at 12:03 AM UTC
You make me feel like I'm still a teenager
A giddy young girl whose eyes
Gleam when you arrive
I see you in the doorway, smiling
The butterflies flutter so loud
In my stomach you can probably hear
Their wings flapping
Your hair falls to the side and you
Look up at me as you stand
In the doorway of our home
We've lived here so many years
Yet I still get elated while I wait
For you and your dimpled smile
To fall back into my arms
No matter how much time goes
By it seems to stand still when
We are in the same room
You help me face the seasons of my life
When I didn't feel safe with
Myself or anyone else and, you
Give me that secure peace of mind
I can see our teenage selves and
Now our mid-thirty days that
We create and navigate as a team
I see all of you and feel
Gratitude for the life we began, even
If sometimes we're sad that it may
Have started just a little too late
After a long days work you come in
Through that door and embrace me
Like you haven't seen me in several years
But I have dinner on the stove
And as our children play, we kiss
Like it's still the beginning and
We're just a couple of young kids in love
Mar 24
Mar 24, 2026 at 4:07 PM UTC
Is it my life's work to make my mother happy?
No, it isn't.
But I'm already stained
By decisions that were made
And a childhood we don't talk about
That I can never seem to escape
I ran and ran from it
Until I fell off the edge
And looked at my life objectively
From a strangers perspective
I saw guilt ridden madness
The only sins on display were mine
Wrapped in a blanket of sarcastic obligation
I wore their masks and tied my rhymes
Letting go of them was easy
After decades of lighting everything on fire
Once you burn yourself to dust
The only enemy is in your mind
My intrusive thoughts move in a circle
Round and round down the drain
Like a venomous snake biting its own tail
My blood and poison are the same
The hostile voice in my head is yours
It chases me every moment of the day
Hoping I'll believe what it says is true
But instead, I choose to be happy
Mar 4
Mar 4, 2026 at 2:08 AM UTC
Here I sit alone
In a dark room
Staring at an empty page
Trying to figure out
What to say about you
I stumbled upon a song
I haven’t heard in
Almost twenty years
These words that were
First sung from your lips
You didn't write it
And neither did I
It's old and sad, like us
I can still hear your voice
After all this time
And I wonder if you've forgotten it
Or if you sing it still
If not, for the first time in a long time
And if it makes you
Think of me too
Mar 4
Mar 4, 2026 at 2:04 AM UTC
Hell is my grandmother
Grabbing me by the throat
And telling me that I'm nothing
When I'm only seven years old
Hell is my mother
Calling me a ****
For cuddling with my first boyfriend
Still a ****** who just wanted to be held
Hell is my father
For calling his two kids "only children"
He wanted me to stay away from my brother
So I did and now it's permanent
Hell is my brother
Crying on this 13th birthday
Thinking he was going to become evil like me
Their lies convinced him I'm a villain
Hell is my uncle
Overdosing on the kitchen floor
Telling me he loves me more than my parents
While he rocks back and forth
Hell is my great grandmother
Grabbing toilet paper out of my hands
Saying that I'm nothing but a wasteful child
Haunting my first memory as a human
Hell is my inner dialogue
A rumination of hate in my mind
Shaped by the heavenly voices that raised me
I'm already ****** if they are the light
Feb 5
Feb 5, 2026 at 9:30 PM UTC
So long have I forsaken
This enchantment I behold
Wreaking havoc on my body
Detesting myself so loud
They say-
There's something about me
Intense and beautiful
Different from anyone else
A healing spark in my soul
That spark is an ember
It's the last of a dying blaze
I was raging and on fire
Running on fumes, and hate
My own voice is evil
It twists me into knots
So tight that I can't unravel
Holding steady for everyone else
They say-
How do you exist?
When I wish that I didn't
My body is exhausted and broken
Squandering any chance at excellence
The ***** led to brain damage
Two pack a day pre-cancerous lungs
Near death split second decisions
Trying to silence that voice for so long
I'll never really know
Exactly how much damage was done
How much time I wasted away
By hating myself loud enough
They say-
A lot of things to me
But they don’t know my thoughts
They don't see the weight around my neck
As I replay every negative moment
I wish that I could hear them
All the nice things people say
But my voice is louder than any other
And my time is spent fixing family pain
I'd heal myself first if I knew how
But my recipe for happiness got ruined
The voice in my head threw it in the trash
And laughed, as my shaking hands lit another cigarette
Feb 5
Feb 5, 2026 at 2:14 PM UTC
Kudos to the kids without phones
Bored in their room, all alone
Watching patterns on the wall
As they become characters or dance to an old song
Imagination can run marathons
When ideas are nurtured to grow in the mind
We cannot be poisoned by immediate gratification
When glory is accumulated over great measures of time
How can a painting unfold onto a black canvas?
How is a story written from blank page and pen?
How could a melody sing without calloused fingers?
From eyes that are distracted amusing instant achievements
Lucky are the parents who maintain awareness
And breathe patience to turn the dial
Being the keepers of tiny creators
Who can be inspired so easily by dancing walls
Feb 1
Feb 1, 2026 at 5:12 PM UTC