do you ever think, mother, as you snort that pill,
of the life you promised, the love, the thrill?
do you ever pause when you praise the lord above,
and wonder if you failed your daughter’s love?

father, do you think as you kneel and pray,
of the hurt you caused, the price i pay?
do you see the nights i hid my pain,
the lessons you taught me, the silent strain?

mother, when you’re high and drifting away,
do you recall i had to guide your sway?
dragging you gently, laying you down,
while inside me, anger and sorrow drowned?

father, do you lie awake in your bed at night,
haunted by choices, by wrong from right?
do you remember the tears i cried alone,
the love you promised, now turned to stone?

because i remember. every wrong, every scar.
i hold it all close, though it feels too far.
i remember the hurt, the silence, the fall,
and i’ll carry it with me, i remember it all.

i return to write with a brand new pen,
the paper’s different, yet i begin again.
this time it’s someone who makes me smile,
not the chaos i held for a lonely while.

your room was messy, his is neat,
you made me cry, he makes joy complete.
he respects me, you pushed and yelled,
he loves his family, your heart rebelled.

he shuns the fight, you loved the gun,
he’s my angel, you were no one.
and yet for a year i held your flame,
blind to god, playing your game.

but now i’m free, my heart’s in light,
i left the darkness, embraced the right.

have you ever seen the bugs that aren't really there?
heard whispers in silence, echoes in air?
do you ever drift as your body walks on
mind far away, but your limbs still drawn?

like a puppet pulled by invisible thread,
going through motions while thought plays dead.
a machine in flesh, with a ghost inside,
screaming no, while the hands comply.

that’s what i’m in, this vacant storm,
a hollow shell in a human form.
i don’t feel real; i’m smoke in the sky.
not even death feels like a why.

everything’s nothing, it all feels fake,
a dream you forget the moment you wake.
even heaven, even hell, seem bare
like bugs and noise that were never there.

whenever i’m real,
nobody hears.
the media prefers silence
wrapped in static,
muted truths.

i speak of faith,
of laws,
of power
and watch the room
empty.

but sadness?
ah...
they lean in.
eyes soft,
nods rehearsed.
the ache is digestible.
the wound, relatable.

funny, isn’t it?
how we hush the loudest truths
yet cradle
our quiet despair
like it's holy.

we ignore the roots,
but mourn the rot.
it's funny.
almost.

i think i found peace,
you and i were not meant to  
but i still look back.  

someone checks my list,  
life is full, bright, and moving,  
yet you cross my mind.  

was it even love?  
then i feel how much i cared,  
yes, it surely was.

she brings the rain, soft and slow,  
a hush of silver, a gentle glow.  
yes, i care for springtime bright,  
but care for nothing in her light.  

she brings the rain, the world turns grey,  
yet melts the clouds, she clears the way.  
in dawn’s embrace, so cool, so wide,  
she brings the rain, i stand inside.

when i talk back, do you feel the rage
a storm inside, a tightening cage?
would you strike, would you scream, let the fury begin?
or is that your father, staring within?

i see the shadow in your gaze,
a past that lingers, sharp as blades.
the echo of him, cold and grim
tell me, love… are you just like him?