Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Strying Jun 12
Wandering a world of traps and likes,
sometimes I stare into the abyss of the blue sky,
and the sun illuminating the garden through the birch trees,
and I wonder if this is happiness.

I wonder how many things I will change in my life,
and I wonder if I'll look back one day and think it was happiness.

I wonder if I will wound up regretting it,
regretting changing myself or my life,
regretting changing my path to fit others' expectations,
or are they my own?

What's left after a person wanders,
wanders and wonders?
the uncertainty around what one's future life will look like based on decisions they are making at the moment
Strying May 15
somewhere in the distance, I see myself in the light
what's in the dark, is whether I'm still alive when illuminated.
Strying Dec 2023
rolling hills
buildings of stone
rainy days
peaceful nights
a dark hallway
leading to a candlelit room
books from ceiling to floor
overlooking the countryside
squared windows
and hands over rough pages
warm blankets
sleep.
imagine having a castle in a field in Europe goals fr
Strying Oct 2023
The wind keeps flailing a leaf in the grass outside my window,
it moves from side to side,
lightly and violently, back and forth,
but it stays in the same spot on the ground.

This leaf is so grounded I begin to feel jealous,
it withstands any gust.

Then, I remember this leaf fell from a tree,
it already lost its battle.

And now it's fighting yet another one.

A never-ending war,
the life after leaving home.
Strying Oct 2023
you can't escape your own loneliness
it surrounds you when you walk outside,
around people or alone,
that doesn't particularly matter to you.

you rise, you fall
it doesn't change how you feel inside,
depression doesn't go away no matter how hard you try to get a grip,
it always returns,
no matter how hard you're trying,
the voice in your head is always lying.

don't cry, my dear
it is no use,
and yet tears still flow
and when you stare yourself dead in the eye
pleading yourself to stop
the person in the mirror replies
with a simple shake of the head from left to right
and again, and again
till that same head
falls gently to your hands.

you wipe the tears away,
and look to the sky in the reflection,
but it's empty.
Strying Sep 2023
I hate the way she says my name,
it sounds like an apology,
or a chore,
and every time I hear it,
I die a little more.
Strying Aug 2023
she died,
I couldn't believe it,
and I still don't understand it,
I wasn't given the time to process it,
she died,
and I was surrounded by people,
she died,
and I had to keep smiling,
responding,
existing,
but she died.
</3 sorry to anyone who has to deal with grief alone in a hectic life, you got this. feel free to dm me if you need someone to talk to.
Next page