Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
The boots don’t always fit,
Sometimes they feel too tight.
But put them on; break them in —
Know one day they’ll be just right.
Mach dein Ding.
Alles andere macht keinen Sinn.
Sonst verlierst du dich mittendrin.
Und der Rest bringt dich nicht ans Ziel hin.
Tristan Corey Jul 29
My heart. My soul. My future.

  Mein Herz. Meine Seele. Meine Zukunft.

Still trapped in a cage you left behind.

  Noch immer gefangen in dem Käfig, den du zurückgelassen hast.

The key is mine. I feel it in my hand.

  Der Schlüssel gehört mir. Ich fühle ihn in meiner Hand.

So why can’t I bear to use it?

  Warum nur kann ich ihn nicht benutzen?
Tristan Corey Jul 28
We deserve the one
who helps hold the tremble in our hands
like it’s something sacred –
who doesn’t flinch when our shadows rise,
but welcomes them
as old friends with tired eyes.

The one who sees
Our silence not as stone,
but as a room echoing with stories
too heavy to speak.
And still, they stay.
Still, they listen.

We deserve the one
who is afraid to lose us –
not from fear,
but from the knowing,
the deep, bone-etched knowing
that love like ours
doesn’t come twice.

They see the ruin as we hide behind smiles
and say, “This isn’t broken.
This is art, mid-creation.”
They trace our cracks like constellations,
naming galaxies where others
only saw damage.

They see the storm
and don’t run.
They pull up a chair
and offer tea,
while the thunder rolls
and our heart remembers
how to soften.

They know
the mess isn’t malice,
the outburst isn’t betrayal,
the retreat isn’t rejection –
just pain,
spilling out of places
that never learned
how to bleed quietly.

And we,
for once,
do not shrink from that love.
We stand in it.
We breathe in it.
Let it echo through by our ribs
until it becomes ours too.

Because we deserve the kind of love
that sees all of us–
and stays.
Tristan Corey Jul 23
I hope you know,



I’d still walk back through the fire.



Not because it didn’t burn, but because part of me knows that who I am now needed those ashes.


And I still believe in the warmth we almost became.



I’d still reach out first, still wait in the quiet, like a lantern left lit for someone who never returned.



Still smile through the cracks, still say I’m fine, while fading quietly into the darkness.



I hope you know, I never stopped loving you.



I just ran out of ways to prove it from a place where I was barely surviving.



Even when the silence grew sharp.



Even when I had nothing left but the echo of loving you.



When all I had left was a shadow of effort.



I know now I wasn’t fine, but I was still trying.



You just never cared what the trying was costing me.



Only what it was costing you, it seems.



You looked at my pain, and called it too much.



But I wasn’t broken.



I was just heavy, with things I didn’t know how to name aloud.



You mistook the weight for weakness, not seeing it was proof I’d carried hurt longer than anyone should have to.



Maybe you taught me the softness I now carry.



Or maybe I taught it to you, and we both forgot where it came from.



Some days… you’re the ghost of the most beautiful mistake I still make room for.



Other days… I see clearly how quickly you left, how you placed the weight of it all in my hands as you walked away.



And both of those truths live here, quietly fighting in the dark.



If you came back now… saying you missed me… I don’t know if I’d stay… or run away.



I think I’d smile, tell you I’m okay.



And I would be.



Because yes, you hurt me.



Not by playing games, but by leaving,



Right when I needed someone to stay.



Still, I loved you.



Still, I do.



And somehow, I’m learning to exist in the space between the two.



Still here.



Still me.



Just reshaped.



Still holding space for the version of me you never stayed long enough to see.



The one who wasn’t broken.



Just buried,



Beneath the weight of all the things you didn’t wait long enough to understand.
Tristan Corey Jul 17
I’d barely found my feet again
Still limping through the past
The ghost of it in every step
A love that couldn’t last
My heart, half-cast in plaster still
Not ready, or so I thought
But then you came, all windswept grace
And everything was caught



You, too, were learning how to walk
Each step a silent win
Your legs remembered far less than you
But fire burned within
We met somewhere between the falls
Between the brave and bruised
Two strangers with unfinished scars
And too much left to lose



We both wore masks in different ways
Each hiding what still hurt
Too much to carry all at once
Too scared to risk the worst
Yet still we laughed and touched the edge
Of something kind and new
And bit by bit, without intent
I let go of the past through you



But in my head the wires crossed
Too much I couldn’t name
The joy, the fear, the pull, the past
All playing the same game
I acted strange, not quite myself
Too distant, then too near
A tangled heart that couldn’t speak
A love that had met fear



I fancied you the way the moon
Pulls tides without a sound
Too soon, too much, yet there it was
My world turned upside down
We kissed beneath the car park lights
A moment raw and real
A rush of something kind and wild
I hadn’t meant to feel



Then later in your van
A life you’d built with care
You let me in, just for a breath
As if I’d always been there
And in your eyes, I saw a world
Of multi-colour blue
Like rock pools lit with changing light
Of shifting shades and hue



Still doubt would knock inside my chest
The past not fully gone
But in meeting you, I understood
That somehow I’m moving on
It wasn’t neat, it never is
Our laughter, the crutch, the stain
Two souls just trying not to fall
Yet stumbling through our pain



But there was something in your face
That made the chaos calm
A quiet knowing in the mess
A kindness like a balm
Connection, I am learning,
Doesn’t crash, it stumbles into view
Like learning how to walk again
With someone next to you



And maybe this was never meant
To last or be defined
But for a while, we found a pace
Where healing intertwined
So here’s to sand beneath our shoes
To kisses out of place
To vans and stars and aching hearts
That somehow found their space



We may not walk this road again
Or know what’s meant to be
But I’m thankful for the time we had
And all it has taught me
Tristan Corey Jul 17
No thunder breaks, no lightning flares,
just quiet storms that no one shares.
The sky is grey, but so am I,
and no one asks the reasons why.

I walk through crowds with hollow grace,
a borrowed smile upon my face.
Inside, the walls begin to cave,
each breath a battle I had to brave.

The world keeps turning, loud and bright,
but in my soul, there is no light.
Midnight in a midday hour,
my joy a wilted, ghostly flower.

I’ve cried beneath a clouded sky,
let raindrops mask the reason why.
Each teardrop blends and hides its name,
a perfect cloak for quiet shame.

They see the rain but not the ache,
the fractured heart that doesn’t break.
My pain is still, without a sound,
like roots that rot beneath the ground.

But sometimes, when the downpour clears,
a glimmer shines between the tears.
A softness in the afterglow,
a voice inside that starts to grow.

It says you’re here, and that is brave.
You’re not the flood you couldn’t stave.
You’re not the weight, the wound, the stain.
You are the one who walked through rain.
Next page