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shanel-1
There was the scientist who spoke about black holes like they were childhood memories. The bartender in Amsterdam with tired green eyes and forearms capable of repairing my entire personality. The Serbian architect who kissed me once outside a kebab shop while snow fell softly onto both our bad coping mechanisms. The married man in Madrid who looked at me too long over wine. We do not discuss him. There are always men. Beautiful temporary men. Men who teach you things accidentally: how to leave, how to stay, how to ask better questions, how to stop confusing emotional labor with intimacy. I wanted to save half of them. The other half wanted to save me. This is what adults call chemistry. Sometimes I think love is just: two exhausted people misunderstanding each other with tremendous sincerity. Still, I continue. Buying candles. Learning recipes. Washing good glasses by hand. Preparing emotionally for a tenderness that may already be walking toward me slowly through some supermarket thinking about olives, or grief, or whether to text me first.
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May 25
May 25, 2026 at 2:38 PM UTC
Men I Could Have Loved
(Standing at the edge, I feel the void remember me.) The void remembers itself, a mirror folded into nothing, and I stand at the edge, where breath meets silence, where time hesitates. A choice hangs in the air: to cross over or remain, to let the unseen pull me like water into shadow, or step back into light I know. Whispers rise from emptiness, not voices, but echoes of every path untaken, every word left unspoken, every hand I never held. The crossing feels less a leap than yielding, less fear than acceptance, and for a heartbeat I hold both the weight and freedom, balancing on the threshold of everything. Then I step, or do not, and in that single motion, the void remembers me, and I remember myself, poised between being and becoming.
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May 25
May 25, 2026 at 2:34 PM UTC
Threshold
I’m tired of nights that never end, Of older men who just pretend, Who call me “beautiful” for show, Then leave before they even know. They speak in ways that sound so sweet, Then turn my heart to something weak. Their polished words, their practiced lies, Still echo long after goodbye. I learned to trade my pain for praise, To lose myself in strangers’ gaze. To let their attention pull me near, Just so I won’t disappear. They say I’m “mature,” wise for my age, Like that excuses every cage. Like loneliness can justify The way they use me, then deny. And when the mirror catches me, I hate the person that I see. Not from their hands, but from the shame Of every cruel and hollow phrase. I feel disgusting, small, unclean, Like I’m worth less than I had dreamed. Their words still linger in my head, Repeating everything they said. I ache to hear somebody stay, To mean enough they choose my name. Not just a body passing through, Not just a moment to consume. I want to be the kind they keep, The kind they hold when things get deep. To be admired beyond my skin, And not abandoned once let in. Because the hardest thing to bear Is giving all and feeling spare; Standing beside somebody’s life, Yet never once becoming prized.
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May 14
May 14, 2026 at 5:00 AM UTC
Used
I am the problem when the rope is too tight to cut. I am the problem when your doubts gnaw at you and push you to the edge of something bitter. I am the problem when you want to protect your fractured frame and think I’m getting in your way. I am the problem when you don’t want to see a different color. I am the problem when you are ashamed of your unlived years. You are my problem when there’s a constant war between two parts of me, and I can’t get out of this mess without hurting you. So who is going to solve us when life looks like a city we’ve never walked before, and a puzzle left unfinished and I still don’t know which way to go.
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Apr 20
Apr 20, 2026 at 3:36 AM UTC
Unfinished Map
It is in the mornings When the mask is left lying somewhere on the floor Or possibly tangled up in the sheets That I’m exposed to the reality of my existence **** the emptiness is breathtaking…
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Apr 20
Apr 20, 2026 at 3:27 AM UTC
Breathtaking
Another sunrise I wake to alone Tell me my love What's the purpose in this again? You're in the next room but may as well be on another planet The distance between us screams How do I fix this? I wouldn't know where to begin The further you drift away The more desperate I become I can't pinpoint where I lost you My only relief from this torture The smoke I inhale... within seconds I go numb Just going through the motions Two strangers co-existing in this cold and lonely house My skin begins to rot from your neglect I'm drowning in this room in the memories of our love While you sleep out on the couch
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Apr 13
Apr 13, 2026 at 3:16 PM UTC
Drowning in the memories
Im not really sure where we are supposed to or could possibly go from here This is not the same There is an emptiness that has settled here We both know it, feel it But sure my love, I'll play along You know how much i cringe and crumble in the face of conflict How I will set myself on fire to spare another's feelings, to negatively affect their state of mind So it is only appropriate that I, for the umpteenth time, set myself ablaze for you Keeper of my heart, master of my mind My blushing smile one minute and the next my regret filled tears Sobbing in the shower, my car, into my pillows Anywhere I can find where I'm less likely to be heard It's become quite the embarrassment for others to witness what I fool I continue to be, how I allow myself to pretend to still be so ******* blind
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Apr 13
Apr 13, 2026 at 3:13 PM UTC
Untitled
How could you? How could you be so reckless with my soul? I broke down walls, I unchained my rib cage I served you my heart on a Silver platter, Just for you to take A bite when you were hungry. Just for you to come and go As you please. Always putting yourself first, Myself, an afterthought. I once again know pain And loss. I once again am losing my mind At the thought. Why do I hold on so tightly To people Who just destroy me?
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Apr 6
Apr 6, 2026 at 7:51 AM UTC
Take