yeah so
i wanted to say sorry i didnt kiss you
but today you kissed me
and well that makes it easier for me too
so yeah

I'm awake
at least I think I am
eye slitted and post box red
lining up with the horizontal blinds to create a morning rainbow

once again dear world
I am still here



I think

Among each other

no more fighting, just going --


with the flow, the flood.

A slow transition, yet so quick,
from strangers to healers, we went.
You ripped your skin, I saw through,
and it felt a reflection of mine.

Found a soul pleading to feel loved,
searching to feel safe and adored.
Scars bleeding, pain un-ceasing,
you knew to give, not to take.

Saw a heart that deserves love,
so lost and tired to search or ask.
Didn't know just being there,
felt healing and freedom for you.

Kindness is all you asked of me,
love was everything I had in me.
You healed, only to bleed more,
when you had to make a choice.

Love is an unsaid message
backspaced in a text box
an unsent email
an unexpressed emotion
unwritten on a piece of paper

The new year arrives not with thunder, but with a whisper—soft, persistent, and unyielding.
It carries the weight of time gone by, the fragments of moments we let slip like sand between careless fingers.

Regret lingers like an unspoken truth, a shadow cast by the light of what could have been. We try to grasp it, to undo it, to reweave the threads of yesterday, but the loom has turned, and the past is a river that only flows forward.

Time was never ours to hold. It was a fleeting metaphor, a borrowed grace we misused with the arrogance of eternity. Hours became currency we spent too freely, years became chapters we didn’t bother to read.

But the clock does not pause.
It does not mourn. It ticks with indifference, a steady cadence reminding us of the gift we still possess: the present.

If the past is a lesson and the future a promise, then this moment is the altar on which we lay our resolve. To forgive ourselves. To treasure the seconds. To write poetry where there was silence.

For though time does not turn back, it offers something greater
a chance to begin again.
And in this beginning, perhaps,
we can finally learn to live.





                                            @Erennwrites

Every day I look

at the landscape, so unreal --


if one doesn't go there.

I'm afraid of failure
Of becoming a burden
But above all, I'm afraid
Of hurting the ones I love
And ending up alone...

Yet I'm here, I've shown
In the face of my demons
And screamed at them
That they'll never take
The very best of me

So I may not be fearless
I'm quite fine with that
For I'm brave

I caught myself in the mirror -
not really me,
just someone wearing my face.
they moved like a bad actor,
lines all wrong,
hands heavy,
feet borrowed.

I lit a cigarette,
watched the smoke curl
into the kind of shapes
I wish I could slip into.