i love writing in a cabin
next to the warm fire
as the ashes blacken
and my hands tire
but there's always
warm soup
on cold days
as my eyes droop
and i know it's time
for me to sleep

I know you're tired.





But I am too.

can i die now...?

the urge to somehow
**** myself painlessly
and allow
myself to walk around aimlessly
is starting to
creep up and up
as shampoo
dripped down from my hair
and i say to myself
when...?

today's another day
of doing nothing
i don't really feel okay
but i don't want to be bluffing
about being useful
for anyone or anything-
i'm trying to be truthful
telling myself i'm ugly
but i'm not good at my studies
i guess my parents are right
always saying i'm useless

the clock ticks and ticks
it's 12am right now-
a time where my icks
are nonexistent as i dive
into my deep thoughts
i feel kinda alive
but also half dead with exhaustion
with my study materials sitting
on my desk.
my brows are furrowed;
my lips are pressed;
it's a never ending cycle.
one that is vicious.

i said, i'm a loner.
he replied with, so you're lonely.
he's somehow right.
but a little wrong.

maybe a longer is like the moon,
never being able to fit in with the stars.
but it's kinda lonely.
so we spin around the earth,
sometimes letting them see us
and sometimes hiding away.

when it's cloudy,
and you can't see the moon-
maybe we were having a bad day.
and staying out of sight
makes us feel better.
slightly, at least.

some people love the moon,
and those are the ones
we cherish, and hold close to
our hearts. ♡

oh my, a white flower.
pale as snow and oh so pure
that the devils cower
is it a cure?
distaste in my mouth
how can something be so innocent
when my whole life is going south
not a sliver of thing decent
I didn't flinch
as I crush the flower with my foot
maybe I'm a Grinch
pessimistic to the root
felt its petals grinding
turning into powder
consumed by a rage so blinding
that makes me wonder
what have I become
...?