I keep on waiting,
For hours that feel endless,
Just to hear his voice,
To tell him about my day,
To feel like I matter.

But he seemed distant,
Uninterested.
Our conversations faded
Until they barely existed.
He didn’t care—
At least, not the way I did.

And my heart,
It broke silently,
Into thousands of pieces
Scattered in places he'll never see.

I lie awake wondering:
What if he never cared?
What if I was never the one?
Was I ever enough?
Did I overreact?
Did I ruin it?
Maybe it was all my fault.

These thoughts crawl in,
Late at night,
Until I break down,
Until breathing feels like a burden,
And every fight replays
With me as the villain.

no one’s eyes made me write—
my life did.
the things I’ve endured,
the family I never had,
the trauma I carry
turned me into a poet.

it forced the ink
out of my veins—
red, yet black,
like the blood
still coursing
through me.

I bleed onto paper
without a knife,
just wounds that never heal,
just pain that never
learns to stop.

it drains me dry—
and yet I stand,
barely.

begging to be taken,
begging to vanish,
to disappear
from a world
I was never meant
to be born in.

Confess your love for her —
or forever hold your breath,
and watch her
walk down the aisle
toward someone
she never truly chose.

Say it now,
while she can still be yours,
while her heart
still beats freely.

Tell her —
that you’ve loved her
since the moment
you first saw her.

That her smile
melts your heart
every single time.

That you can’t imagine
a life without her.
That she’s the reason
you’re still breathing.

That she’s the color
on your blank canvas,
the verse
in every song you’ve ever written,
the meaning
in every moment you’ve lived.

Tell her —
you were never whole
without her.
That she was the missing piece
to your puzzle,
the one that made you
complete.

Because if you don’t…
you’ll spend a lifetime
wondering how it felt
to be loved back
by the one
you never had the courage
to fight for.

How come every time
I try to leave it all behind,
Try to forget the pain,
The damage I've been through,
It always finds its way back to me?

It never lets me go.
Like I’m trapped in a cage,
With no way out,
No space to breathe —
But somehow, I’m still alive.

Every time I think I’ve moved on,
That I’ve finally healed,
It creeps back in,
Like a shadow I can’t run from.

It tightens around me,
Like invisible hands on my throat.
Not enough to end me,
Just enough to make me breathless.

And I wonder —
Will it ever let me go?

I laugh—
Every time I’m on the edge of breaking.
When tears slip down,
Uninvited,
From eyes that were never meant to spill them.

I laugh with all I’ve got,
As if the sound can drown the ache—
As if pretending
Can make the pain behave.

I wear a smile like armor,
A mask of joy the world applauds.
But beneath it all—
Is a soul quietly screaming,
Begging to be held,
To be heard.

To be told:
It’s okay to cry.
It’s not weakness to feel.
It’s not a sin to break

I don’t get it—
how people run to their parents
when life gets hard.
How they’re met with open arms,
soft voices, safety.

I used to dream of that.
Of running to mine,
of hiding behind them like a child—
because I was a child.

I wanted to cry in their arms,
to fall apart
and be held together.
But I never could.

There was no softness there.
No arms to catch me,
only the weight of silence,
the sharp edge of being too much.

So I ran.
Not toward them,
but away—
as far as I could
just to find peace.

If the older ones cry,
They get a hug.....
if i cried, i got a lecture.
I always appear strong,
even when I'm silently breaking inside.
They say,"you're the youngest, you should understand"
But who should understand me?
I wiped everyone's tears,
but mine were called weakness.
In being their strength,
I forgot how to ask for help