alia - Hello Poetry

alia 19h

There’s this thing
you’re supposed to help with for your dad—
but you barely do.
Act like it’s just another chore,
something that can wait.

And I’m here,
doing it for mine,
even though
he’s not around anymore.

You don’t realise
how lucky you are.
You still can,
and that means something.

I’d do anything
to have that chance again.
To help him,
even once more—
and have him still here
to see it.

Just ranting about something and still grieving

. I just want to see him at least one more time. people are lucky to still have their dads around. but it's ok I guess , because I know that he is in a better place.

alia 20h

Scary

I’ve always wondered—
if I spoke more,
smiled more,
would I still seem scary?

Would my words
come out soft,
or sharp like they imagine?

Even I don’t know
why I wear this face.
Maybe I’ve forgotten
how to take it off.

Or maybe,
I’m just afraid
you won’t like
what’s underneath.

alia 1d

Quiet Collapse

in mirrors
that don’t smile back,
hide my storms
in shades of black.

No screams, no signs—
just steady breath,
and a thousand cracks
no one has met.

alia 2d

My Brain at 3am

Let’s not sleep—
let’s overthink!
Let’s rethink
every awkward blink.

Let’s write a novel
in our head,
then cry about
what we should’ve said.

Sleep is boring.
Peace is fake.
Let’s spiral till
the morning breaks.

alia 2d

Did He?

Did I fall for a rumour
wrapped in soft lies?
Whispers said he liked me—
I believed with closed eyes.

One says it’s false,
just talk in the air,
but why did it feel
like something was there?

A glance,
a pause,
a maybe smile—
I held it close
for quite a while.

Maybe it’s foolish.
Maybe it’s gone.
But part of me hopes
they all got it wrong.

6d

Pri

I bite

I bite.
Not with teeth.
with silence,
with sharp glances,
with walls built higher than your reach.

I’m not cruel.
I’m just tired
of being kind first
and torn apart second.

You call it attitude.
I call it armor.
Because being soft
never saved me.
It only made the fall hurt more.

So I speak less now.
Agree less.
Trust less.
I pull away before someone has the chance
to walk out first.

It’s not that I don’t want love.
I’ve learned that even “I care about you”
can come with conditions.
Even soft hands
can leave bruises
you can’t see.

I bite
because once,
I didn’t.
And it nearly broke me.

(inspired by Isle of Dogs)

alia Jun 18

Porcelain Smile

I wear my grin like porcelain—
polished, perfect,
cracked beneath.

They see the shine,
not the spiderwebs
that threaten to split me clean.

I laugh on cue,
walk the line,
but every step feels like a dare—
will I break,
or bend again?

No one notices the hairline fault.
They only see
a masterpiece
that never asked
to be displayed.

But here’s the twist
they’ll never know:
I dropped the real me
years ago.