i did it in february
and every time i looked it became an echo
and echo that never stopped
ricocheting like a gunshot
a permanent reminder
of that night
that blade
those thoughts
something that still clings to me
and will forever haunt
i hid it with a plaster
over the scar
and over my face
masking myself with a flawless personality
laughing
smiling
happy
i just wish i felt that way on the outside
and sometimes the masks still on
so i did it again
and it felt...
good.
it felt as though wrongs were being righted
and it happened for a reason
i believed i deserved it.
At least thats what i told myself as the blood went drip
drip
drip
onto the barren white wood floors
i knew i had to stop but i didn't know how
its been a year and a bit since february
and somehow im still here
i havent skimmed the blade on my skin
a rubberband fufils my itches
and most times air does just fine
but i wonder if i'll ever forget last february
or if will always be an echo
replaying in every nightmare
and invading my thoughts.
2d ago
May 31, 2026 at 8:02 PM UTC
in the nook of my window
where life should be stil
an eight‑legged creature lingers
basking in the sun’s soft glow.
i watch him,
quietly,
with a strange kind of wonder
as he spins his web
from liquid silver
deceitful
yet beautiful.
he reminds me of myself
escaping the life you may call a life
winding himself in lies
and truths
until the threads tighten
and choke.
he reminds me of me
solitary
building walls around his world
shutting out the wind
the warmth
the light
dwelling in his own darkness.
i went to the window
to see him again
to whisper that i’m sorry
that i understand
but instead i found a ladybird
caught in his web
thrashing, trembling
a prisoner in silk.
something in me sank
to see how small a life can end.
she fluttered her wings in hope
while i watched in despair
yet against all odds
she tore herself free
snapped every thread
and rose into the air
bright, defiant
shattering the deceit behind her.
maybe i should see myself
in the ladybird
instead of the lonely spider
hopeful when hope is gone
trying when trying feels pointless.
if a creature so small
with a heart full of courage
can escape a tangle of hatred
maybe i can too
escape
maybe someday
i’ll stretch my wings
break free
and never look back.
5d ago
May 29, 2026 at 2:47 AM UTC
there was once was a time
where i could soar
i could fly
i would call myself master of the forest
queen of the sky
i would look down below
and marvel in the sight
of so many people
supporting my flight
my wings were never perfect
they faded to bruised and blue
but i bandaged them up
and with a heavy heart i flew
i floated closer to the ground
i wasnt as high
there was no one left to marvel
the queen of the sky
my beak started cracking
my melody was off tune
everyone covered their ears
so i flew during the bright moon
i seeked comfort in the stars
see if they could fix my song
but their light quickly faded
and i knew i was in the wrong
i tried and tried again
to fix everything that was cracked
but my imperfections kept building
i defined myself as everything i lacked
i looked back on who i was
the queen of the sky
i realised there was no going back
no matter how hard i tried
i tried one last time
to feel the air under my wings
but i plummeted and fell
i realised there was a new king
i didn't get back up
i lied on the ground to die
i dont think anyone will remember
their queen of the sky.
May 23
May 23, 2026 at 6:33 PM UTC
i glare at the mirror
slowly tracing the jagged bones
that rise beneath my skin
shown through bruises and blisters
a worn‑out map
charting every place I’ve passed through
to become this shape.
each sharp edge grinds
against my flaking skin,
carved by the stares of others
by doubts that linger too long
by silent screams
becoming coil around my throat
like climbing creeping ivy
stealing my hopeless breath
leaving these imperfect lines
carved across me.
i am still grasping for air
as the ivy tightens slowly each day
allowing my bones to pierce
till they bleed
turning my map into a skeleton
ending this story.
May 19
May 19, 2026 at 6:27 PM UTC
We pretend we're okay
and push our trauma away
so that they'll see us in a different way
Ignoring the fact that we're barely getting through the day
With the time ticking as it's quickly running out
Holding onto the end of our rope
With no hope
But drowning in doubt
I know what you do because I do it too
Hiding your grief under the bed
Numbing yourself to things people have done and said
Thinking that you're better off dead
While hiding the reality of every child hiding behind
a bright and deceitful smile
But truly and just honestly
we need revival
Why do we put band-aids on wounds that need a surgeon?
May 18
May 18, 2026 at 2:39 PM UTC
shouting
all i hear is shouting
your voice ricocheting through the hollow rooms of my mind
rooms you carved with rules
that i still obey
i open the door for you
i let you step inside
but you only arrive with your chisel, splitting me further
until my thoughts spill over with your noise
scared
all i feel is scared
i spent my whole life looking up to you
yet i flinch when your shadow moves near
my eyes burn with every shout
tears i try to swallow
trying to be strong
like you
but you strike me down until i go quiet
and all i feel is scared
sorry
all i say is sorry
even as your words cut like heated blades against my skin
i forgive you
i let you try again
you never soften
i don’t think you will
but i can’t carve you back
i won't
so i keep saying sorry
and i keep hoping one day you’ll change
one day the shouting will fade
one day the fear will loosen its grip
one day i won’t have to say sorry
one day i’ll feel love from you for the first time
May 15
May 15, 2026 at 6:48 PM UTC
lights are on
but i’m not home
my thoughts slip out
they start to roam
a quiet hum beneath my skin,
a world outside, a world within.
the room is bright
but i’m away
lost somewhere i can’t quite say
a mind that wanders
soft and slow,
to places only i can know.
still something warm
keeps holding on
a gentle glow
a fragile dawn.
and though I drift
i’m not alone
the lights are on,
and i’ll soon come home.
May 11
May 11, 2026 at 6:18 PM UTC
someone make it stop
please
make that pounding
that shakes my world
cracking my little universes
each taliored for others
make it stop.
make the shouting
turn into silence
and gather me
piece by trembling piece
before I scatter again
into corners no one sees
make it stop.
make this storm
this relentless, bone‑deep thrum
that swallows the edges of me
i am so tired
of being devoured
make it stop.
make my heart
that beats like a slow rusting machine
with no oil to keep the cogs turning
make it stop.
i want to make it stop
help me make it stop.
May 7
May 7, 2026 at 6:12 PM UTC
you sit there
”just one bite, please?”
it haunts you
”come on its been days”
you know it has
but the words your mother carved into your skin sting
fat
ugly
disgusting
you didn’t deserve it
”do you want something else?”
you wanted it to go away
the noise
it was stabbing different parts of your stomach
you should
you really should
it would be good for you
so you pick it up
until it feels too heavy
food is not the enemy
theyve told you before
but the calories
the scale
the thoughts
told you something else
you really want to be pretty?
you must. be. smaller.
so you ****** in your stomach and lied
”im fine, i ate a big breakfast”
and you wish in that moment
shed look you in the eye
and ask you
if you wanted to go somewhere quieter
but she didnt
and thats what really told you
you didnt deserve any of this
not until you were prettier.
May 1
May 1, 2026 at 5:42 PM UTC
She captures the moment with a click,
Captures the fake smiles
Captures the underlying sadness
Captures the hidden scars
Without realising it.
But when they are printed out
To be closely examined
Only then she realises
How fake our world is.
As the pictures begin to collect dust
And those moments become
Forgotten memories,
She mourns the fake when faced with reality
Because who wants the truth
When it will only hurt you more.
Then she changed,
She took pictures when no one noticed,
Capturing the truth in the moment
So she didn’t have to crave lies
In the future.
She captures real smiles
Captures real happiness
Captures hidden beauty
Captures nature
Engraving feelings into mere pictures.
She undresses the stories of people,
Exposing the weaknesses
Exposing the truth
Exposing reality
But now she wonders:
Who is she?
The person behind the camera
Some say shes nothing
Others say shes quiet.
She can’t even recognise herself at times,
Staring at the broken mirror.
Perhaps for once,
She should be the muse
And someone else the photographer
So she can find herself.
Apr 30
Apr 30, 2026 at 6:04 PM UTC