I’m tired.
I lost.
maybe made my mind to quit.
I had enough.
the mast I wore on socity
is broken.
I’m ugly.
I’m done.
responsibility.
expectations.
never have I.
m not strong.
never was.
they think everyone is like them
but I’m already broken.
am just coarpse.
maybe tomorrow it will be true.
maybe the last words.
don’t pretend to be sorry
or on my loss.
empathy.
sympathy.
for someone who was ignored.
I always been brightest
so ill be loved
but always been used.
thank you
or not …
9h ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 1:44 PM UTC
Your eyes are like the depth of oceans blue,
Your skin as pure as snow the Alps once knew.
Your touch so gentle, like a child’s sweet smile,
Your grace and smile can’t be expressed for a while.
Even though I truly want to,
My ink won’t cry on paper for you.
How can I express your beauty so bright?
I’ll make flowers of paper through the night.
I don’t know you well, it’s true,
Still I want to be so close to you.
Your words keep echoing in my head,
Like soft little songs that were never said.
I’ll draw you on my ceiling above,
So I can wake and sleep with thoughts of love.
So I can see you before I sleep,
And after I wake, your memory I’ll keep.
I became a poet because of you,
I don’t believe in God, it’s true.
But I’ll still burn candles in the night,
Just for you, beside their light.
May 8
May 8, 2026 at 7:03 AM UTC
The day we’re born, we cry everyone does,
Crying may fade for a year or two, but it never was done.
Never in childhood, for a toy we desire,
In youth, for attention, a restless fire.
In our 20s for love, hearts torn and worn,
In our 30s for jobs, dreams weathered and torn.
In our 40s for marriage, in 50s for health,
Is this why I was born just to cry through myself?
Why do I cry every day, why does it stay?
I remember crying so hard, tears crusted my face.
Does she even care how broken I am,
Or is she enjoying this, hiding the plan?
I’m tired of life, of pain that won’t leave,
Suffering glued to me, year after year.
This day always comes and hurts more than before,
I’m tired… yet still say, I wish we
never said goodbye.
Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 7:43 AM UTC
Your silence has burrowed so deep into my mind,
Calling out to you left my throat raw and dry.
After swearing we'd walk hand in hand forever,
You slipped away with someone else by your side.
I, the moth, linger in the shadows behind,
Clinging to the embers of your memories, burned and blind.
Dec 15, 2025
Dec 15, 2025 at 9:36 AM UTC
I don’t know your face yet,
don’t know the way your smile forms or how your eyes light up
when something makes you happy,
but still somehow your words have started to feel like a place I keep returning to.
You live far away,
far enough that I shouldn’t be thinking about you this much,
yet I catch myself wondering about you
your laugh, your thoughts, the quiet pieces of you I haven’t met.
And maybe it sounds silly,
falling for someone whose image I can only imagine,
but there’s something about the way you exist in my mind
that feels warm in a way I don’t want to lose.
So here it is, honestly
I think I’m falling for you,
not for your face,
but for the feeling you bring into me
even from a long, long distance.
Nov 30, 2025
Nov 30, 2025 at 6:14 AM UTC
Even in darkness, her elegance shines bright,
Like the moon crowned queen in the velvet night.
The echo of her heart glows soft and true,
In silent moments, her beauty breaks through.
Even the light finds reasons just to see
The magic she carries so effortlessly.
Nov 29, 2025
Nov 29, 2025 at 1:03 PM UTC
The heat of summer climbs my head,
It shows the things I’ve always said—
My hopes, my faith, the truth I keep,
The parts of me that run so deep.
But the more I speak, the more they hate,
The world turns cold when you’re too straight.
It’s built on lies, behind a smile,
It fears the truth and shuns the trial.
The rainy season makes me sad,
It makes me miss the life I had.
The little drops that touch my face
Feel soft at first, like calm embrace.
But then the clouds grow dark and near,
And bring back thoughts I hate to hear.
The breeze that once would help me cope,
Now pulls away my thread of hope.
When autumn comes and leaves all fall,
I hear them crack with every call.
Each step I take, each gust of wind,
Feels like her voice comes back again.
The dry leaves swirl, like she’s still close,
A memory I miss the most.
It’s when most hearts begin to ache,
And wrap in care that starts to break.
Winter’s the season I love the best,
It brings my tired mind some rest.
No burning sun, no stormy sky,
No falling leaves or reasons why.
It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t heal,
It simply makes the world stand still.
It’s just a pause, a quiet place,
To wait for someone’s calm embrace.
I don’t hate winter—cold and slow,
My soul feels safe when it’s all snow.
I wish I lived where snowflakes land,
In a wooden house, not made by hand.
Far from the noise, the rush, the game,
Away from rules that feel the same.
This city’s taken all I knew,
My thoughts, my peace, my point of view.
I feel like someone pulls each string—
And I’ve forgotten how to think.
Aug 5, 2025
Aug 5, 2025 at 12:24 PM UTC
I held my pen,
ready to start writing something new—
something that reflects my life.
I think, and think, and think,
but nothing comes to mind.
Whenever I close my eyes,
her sweet memories cloud my thoughts
like mountains in the middle of June.
I always try to bounce back,
but no matter how high you jump,
it's inevitable that you'll fall.
Now, I’ve lost my touch;
I’ve lost the sparkle in my eyes.
She didn't just leave my life—
she took my pride.
Is that me now?
A soul who roams
in fields of pitch-black solitude.
Her delusion was
that I had moved on,
and mine was
that she would find her way back home.
Jul 18, 2025
Jul 18, 2025 at 12:10 PM UTC
Every step I take, the destination drifts further,
Like I never flinched from my starting line.
Am I truly moving—or just imagining motion?
This constant struggle of duality isn’t the enemy of my path—
It is my path. It is I.
Confident in nothing.
The way of solitude gives me euphoria.
My path has many distractions.
They haunt me, they’re tempting me to stay or return.
It’s getting hard to stay on the road.
My will is my lantern, which flickers with my every step.
I’m scared.
I look at the bushes on the side of the road with fear.
My movement gets slow.
I’m shivering.
I know there is a predator, and I’m its prey—
Still, I ignore it, like a sacrificial lamb.
This road may end with me—
Or my grief may end me before it.
Jul 5, 2025
Jul 5, 2025 at 10:48 AM UTC
The heat of the summer was creeping up my head,
making it clear for others to see my desire,
My faith, my mysteries—
letting my real self show to the world.
The more I open, the more they hate.
The world is built on lies,
and it doesn't welcome someone
With a foundation of truth.
The clouds of the season of showers make me sad,
make me reflect on my decision to live.
When the tiny drops of rain touch my face
With the breeze, it soothes me—
until the dark mood of the weather
stirs up my seasonal trauma.
The autumn winds, when leaves fall,
carry every step with the crackle of the dry,
each gust making the dead leaves swirl—
as if her presence follows me,
With every footstep echoed
by the brittle sound of fading things.
It is the season when most hearts break,
And more get swaddled in a fragile coating of care.
Winter—the season I cherish the most.
It bears neither the scorch of summer
nor the gloom of the verdant rains,
neither the shedding of autumn
nor the heartbreak it trails.
It doesn't mend,
Nor does it shatter—
It simply stalls time.
A waiting room
for the arrival of someone
whose presence holds together
The fragile threads of my sanity.
I do not hate winter.
My soul feels more at ease in its stillness
than in any other time of year.
Alas, I should have been born
In the outskirts of snowy, silent lands,
Living in a cabin in the woods.
The city has wearied me—
I've lost my touch,
My freedom—
made to think and feel
as if someone above
is pulling all my strings.
Jun 30, 2025
Jun 30, 2025 at 11:54 PM UTC