Still can't believe
how easy it is for you
to be all okay
knowing you've
broken every part of me
that did nothing
but to love you
always, in all ways
Dec 20, 2024
Dec 20, 2024 at 9:41 AM UTC
I woke,
I've been writing poems
For the wrong person.
I broke,
I've been crying
For the wrong person.
He was fooling me all along.
Dec 19, 2024
Dec 19, 2024 at 9:10 AM UTC
"He fell first, she fell harder, he lost feelings, she can't move on."
Dec 18, 2024
Dec 18, 2024 at 9:51 PM UTC
I won't wait anymore,
but you can always come back.
I already closed the door,
but you can always knock
and call out my name.
I'll gladly open it for you again.
Just for you.
Dec 18, 2024
Dec 18, 2024 at 8:53 AM UTC
Gone
but not really.
I'm still here,
yet slowly losing grip
not intentionally,
but because you're pushing me
Dec 16, 2024
Dec 16, 2024 at 1:45 AM UTC
To feel a lot
is to write nothing.
Emotions too intense,
as if it's at its peak,
that no word is enough
to describe
or deserves to be well-written.
I feel a lot,
but I write something.
Vague, baffling, puzzling,
like the stars up on the sky—
certainly it's there,
millions, hidden by the clouds,
too precious, too deep
to describe
or to be even seen.
I feel a lot,
so I write this.
Each word is encoded
with a heavy heart
and weary mind.
Dec 12, 2024
Dec 12, 2024 at 8:00 AM UTC
What if I kept it all bottled up,
Like it didn’t hurt?
And what if I chose not to write,
As if it didn’t linger in my mind?
If it wasn’t a pen I held,
Would I have grasped a blade instead?
Or would a piece of poem like this
Take the place of a suicide note?
Dec 9, 2024
Dec 9, 2024 at 8:38 AM UTC