kaya: Favorites

4h kaya

Nyssa Elena Jacobsen

I often think about
What we could be
In another life

Wrong time, wrong place
But what if it wasn't?
In another life

Freedom to act
On the feelings
In another life

I would explore you
And you, I
In another life

And yet we are in this life
A spark left sizzling
Refusing to die
In this life

May 11 kaya

Do Not Rewrite the Past

May 11 kaya

afrota

Do Not Rewrite the Past

Do not rewrite the past.
No hand can erase
what time has carved
in wounded skin.

Let your oldest notebook
inscribe the first line
of a new tale —
written in fresh tears
and the sweat
of becoming
a future still unfolding.

#philosophical #philosophy #inspiring

May 8 kaya

Father

May 8 kaya

Pax

Father

I don't know what to call You.
"Father," which should denote familiarity,
seems a foreign word to me.

May 6, 2025

May 8 kaya

A Disguise, A Reality.

May 8 kaya

GR

A Disguise, A Reality.

Cursed, yet blessed.

Bright in disguise, dark in reality.

Because she pretends. Because she indulges in her delusions. Because she is hidden. Because a mask can cover scars. Because she repents on her sins. Because she isn't scared. But that would mean she had left this world behind long ago.

Actually, it was all just an illusion.

Because in the darkness, she tries to come back.

Her broken tears beautifully shine in the dark, immediately crystallizing as they caress her cheeks. Her purple, shattered yet gentle soul, it is irreplaceable.

She is I, I am her.

Blessed, yet cursed.

May 8 kaya

It Was All Over

May 8 kaya

Rebecca

It Was All Over

I don't know where I started
nor what I wanted
I just remember
it was all over.

May 8 kaya

Fault

May 8 kaya

Nick Spellman

Fault

You say my grades don’t matter.
You say, “I love you no matter what.”
Then why am I invisible?
Why do they only see the red numbers on my sheet?

You ask me, “Is everything fine?”
What do you expect me to say —
that I’m f**d up?
That I dream about leaving?
That I keep a blade in my front pocket?

You say I don’t share,
but you don’t pay attention.
I play the piano till my fingers bleed,
I scream songs that reflect me,
I even talked to you.

Maybe it’s because you liked me,
never loved me.
Maybe I’m so flawed I can’t see,
or maybe it’s both.
Maybe we’re both flawed —
we’re only human.

can you hear me?

#sad #mature #depressed

— The End —