I think loyalty became painful for me
the moment I realized
how rare it is to be loved
without feeling like you’re competing
with the rest of the world.
Because I don’t just want attention.
I want devotion so natural
that nobody could ever question where their heart belongs.
I want to hear my name
leave someone’s mouth
like it carries warmth instead of uncertainty.
I want them to talk about me
like I’m the safest thing they’ve ever held, like loving me is something they’re proud of, not something they hide in pieces.
And maybe that’s why betrayal hurts me so deeply ..
because when I love,
I love with the kind of loyalty
that removes everyone else from the picture.
So when someone makes me feel replaceable ..
it doesn’t just bruise my heart.
It ruins the way I see myself.
It makes me wonder why I’m never enough to be chosen loudly.
Why I’m always loved quietly,
temporarily,
carelessly.
I want someone who speaks about me
like I’m the only girl their soul has memorized.
Someone whose loyalty is so obvious
I never have to search for it
in hidden messages,
dry replies,
or the way their eyes linger too long on somebody else.
Because I’m exhausted.
from giving people the kind of love
I secretly beg for in return.
And maybe the deepest wound isn’t heartbreak ..
maybe it’s realizing
you would’ve never done to them
what they did so easily to you.
🖤
May 22
May 22, 2026 at 7:12 PM UTC
Alone, never lonely.
Proud, never satisfied.
In Motion, never chasing.
Tired, but never stopping.
May 21
May 21, 2026 at 9:46 PM UTC
I keep mirrors in my mouth
so every word sounds like whoever you need.
I learned early that being loved
meant being easy.
Easy to bend.
Easy to carry.
Easy to leave behind.
So I became soft edges and fake laughs,
became “whatever you want,”
became the friend who answers at 2AM
with half-dead eyes and a full heart.
I hand out pieces of myself like flyers on a street corner,
then act surprised
when there’s nothing left in my pockets.
You’d think exhaustion would make me colder.
It doesn’t.
It just makes me easier to use.
I let people build homes inside me
while I sleep outside in the rain.
I say “it’s okay” so often
I’m starting to think pain changed its name to mine.
And every time someone leaves,
I stand there apologizing
like I held the door open wrong.
The worst part is
I don’t even know who I am
without somebody else deciding it first.
I shape-shift for survival.
Different laugh for different rooms.
Different heart for different people.
I can read disappointment
before it even reaches someone’s face,
so I **** parts of myself early
to save everyone the trouble.
And still
still somehow I am “too much.”
Too caring.
Too available.
Too forgiving.
Like love is embarrassing when it isn’t selfish.
I hate how quickly I would ruin myself
to keep someone else comfortable.
How I treat loyalty like religion
while other people treat it like a convenience.
I carry everyone gently
and they carry me like a burden.
I say “it’s okay” when it isn’t.
I let people stay close
even when they hurt me.
Because losing them feels worse
than losing myself.
I want, just once,
to stop shrinking.
To stop translating myself into something easier to digest.
To stop begging people to love me
in ways I already deserved from the start.
Because underneath all this pretending
is someone exhausted.
Someone real.
Someone who loved so hard
they forgot they were supposed to be loved too
🖤
May 21
May 21, 2026 at 2:04 PM UTC
I gave you almost four years
like they were sacred—
stitched my future into your name,
made homes out of late-night promises,
believed every “forever”
that fell so easy from your mouth.
You spoke about us
like we were written in stone.
The apartment we’d get,
the trips we’d take,
the way you said
“I can’t wait to marry you someday”
with that smile that made me trust you
more than I trusted myself.
But now I know
you were building another life
behind my back
while I was busy defending you
to everyone who warned me.
And the sickest part?
You thought it was funny.
Every time I questioned something,
every time my intuition clawed at me
begging me to see the truth,
you laughed.
Made me feel crazy.
Made my heartbreak into a joke
before it even had a name.
Too good to be true
is just another way of saying
I ignored the red flags
because your lies were beautiful.
Now every “I love you”
echoes differently.
Cold.
Rehearsed.
Empty.
Like lines you memorized
for whoever was standing in front of you.
I replay everything now—
the kisses.
the plans.
the future.
the way you held me
while betraying me at the same time.
And I wonder
if there was ever a moment
you actually meant any of it.
What hurts most
is I found out by myself.
No confession.
No honesty.
No respect to tell me the truth.
Just me,
pulling apart pieces of a story
you hoped I’d never finish reading.
Almost four years
gone down the drain
for someone who treated my loyalty
like a game
and my love
like something disposable.
But one day
this won’t feel like drowning.
One day I’ll stop mourning
the future you sold me
and start thanking God
I never ended up trapped inside it.
💔🥀🖤
May 19
May 19, 2026 at 3:07 PM UTC
It was always animals for me.
Not in a casual way.
Not in a “I think they’re cute” way.
It was the way I paid attention to the world when people didn’t understandable.
It was the way I learned softness without needing words for it.
The way I could sit with something living and feel less lost in myself.
It became my comfort without me deciding it should.
A quiet obsession I didn’t explain, because I didn’t think I needed to.
It was just … mine.
Something that made sense of me when nothing else did.
You were always books.
Stories, pages, worlds you could disappear into and come back from when you wanted.
That was you, clearly, consistently.
And I never thought about it as anything more than just different directions for two people who grew up side by side.
But then something .. shifted.
Somewhere along the way, the thing I carried quietly became something you stepped into.
Animals started showing up in your words, you posts, your identity like it had always been there.
Like it wasn’t something I had spent years building a silent relationship with.
And now people see it and attach it to you first.
Easily. Naturally. Without a question.
It’s strange how something can stop feeling like a private part of you the moment someone else wears it louder.
I don’t think I know how to explain properly.
Its not just “you like the same thing”
Its watching something that helped define me becoming something that defines you in everyone else's eyes.
And I’m still here,
With the same quiet attachment,
With the same unspoken history.
The same version of it that doesn’t get recognized anymore.
It doesn’t feel like it was stolen.
It feels worse in a different way-
Like I was never loud enough for it to stay mine in the first place.
Like I loved it privately,
And that made it easy for the world to forget I was ever part of it.
💔✨
May 15
May 15, 2026 at 12:42 PM UTC
She doesn’t talk about it but theres a whole war inside her that no one ever sees.
She wakes up every morning, puts on a smile, and walks through the world as if she isn’t bleeding underneath.
She’s mastered the art of appearing okay.
Not because she is, but because falling apart was never an option.
Breaking down? That’s a luxury she was never given.
Shes the kind of woman who cries alone silently in rooms nobody enters.
She overthinks every word, every silence, and still shows up for people who never once showed up for her.
And even though the memories burn,
She still carries the world with a kind heart and open hands as if it never shattered her.
People call her strong but strength wasn’t a choice.
It becomes survival.
Its burying pain so deeply that even her own reflection forgets what she looks like when shes happy.
Shes tired.
Not the kind of tired that sleep can fix, but the kind that wraps around the soul and refuses to let go.
Yet, you’ll never hear her complain.
Somewhere in that quiet chaos, she learned no one is coming to save her.
She is the rescue.
And maybe thats the scariest part is how good she has become at pretending, shes fine.
When the truth is she’s just screaming behind her silence.
Shes gotten so good at pretending shes fine …
That no one ever asks if she’s not.
🤍
Apr 7
Apr 7, 2026 at 11:21 AM UTC
The moon still rose, but not for us.
The stars kept their distant, silent and still.
Our laughters became echoes fading through time
like a song forgot its tune.
The bridge we built now sleeps beneath the river,
and even the wind doesn't whisper your name.
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 6:45 PM UTC
Maybe god sent animals here
Not just to live beside us,
But to show us something
We keep forgetting.
Because they don’t speak-
Not in words we understand-
Yet somehow
They say something.
A dog waits at the door for hours,
Not because it has to,
But because it loves you
Without question.
A cat curls beside you,
On your worst days,
Quietly reminding you
That presence
Can be enough.
No lies,
No mixed signals,
No maybe
No almosts.
Just loyalty.
That doesn’t waver
And love
That doesn’t come with conditions.
They don’t promise forever,
They just stay.
They don’t say “I dont care”
They show it
In every small, consistent way.
And maybe thats the lesson-
Our love was never meant
To be complicated.
Never meant
To hurt this much.
Maybe we were meant
To learn from them.
That actions
Will always speak louder
Than words ever could.
And real love
Doesn’t need to be said
To be felt.
🖤 🐾
Mar 26
Mar 26, 2026 at 10:33 AM UTC
You called me childish
like it was something to outgrow,
like the way I laugh
is something I should learn to hide.
But you didn’t see
what it took for me
to be like that around you.
You didn’t see
how I usually am—
quiet, careful,
holding parts of myself back
like they’re too much
for anyone to keep.
That “childish” version of me?
She only comes out
when I feel safe.
When I forget
to overthink every word,
when I stop waiting
for people to leave,
when my heart finally believes
it’s okay to be soft.
That’s when I laugh too loud,
when I act a little silly,
when I let my guard fall
without realizing
how fragile that moment is.
That’s not me being immature—
that’s me trusting you
with the purest part of me.
And you made it feel
like something embarrassing.
Do you know what that does
to someone like me?
It makes me second-guess
every laugh,
every joke,
every moment I almost felt free.
It makes me want to shrink back
into the quiet version of myself—
the one
That’s easier,
safer,
harder to hurt.
Because being “childish”
was never the problem
it was the part of me
that still knew how to feel joy
without fear.
And now…
I don’t know if I’ll let that part
be seen again.
🖤
Mar 24
Mar 24, 2026 at 9:16 PM UTC
They call my name
and suddenly
everything goes quiet.
Not the crowd,
not the clapping
just the noise inside my head
that used to feel so loud.
I take a step,
then another,
my heart somewhere between
pride and panic.
This is it.
The moment they told me to wait for.
The finish line
that somehow feels
like a beginning
I’m not ready for.
I think of late nights,
of silent struggles,
of days I almost gave up
but didn’t.
I think of who I was
when this all started
smaller,
softer,
not knowing
how much I’d have to grow.
And now I’m here,
walking forward
while a part of me
is still looking back.
At the hallways,
the laughter,
the version of me
I’ll never be again.
My hand shakes slightly
as I reach for the diploma,
like I’m holding proof
that time didn’t stop
just because I wanted it to.
I smile
but there’s something behind it.
A quiet ache,
a soft goodbye
no one else can hear.
Because this walk
isn’t just a step forward
it’s letting go
of a life
I didn’t realize
I’d miss this much.
🎓🖤
Mar 24
Mar 24, 2026 at 6:11 PM UTC