i carry no hatred, only a quiet understanding.
what was once heavy in my chest is now just a memory,
soft and fleeting, like smoke dissolving into air.
you taught me the strength of leaving,
the grace in letting go without bitterness.
i am no longer bound to the ache of us,
but i’ll carry the lessons like whispers
of who i’ve grown to be.

how do i still care
when you made it clear
that i am nothing more
than a shadow in your story?
you left,
and even when i buried your name,
some piece of me stayed awake,
still reaching, still holding,
still soft when i should be stone.

you came back,
not with love,
not with apologies,
but with the weight of your presence.
and i should’ve walked away,
should’ve turned my back,
should’ve spat words that burn
but instead, i lingered,
hate tangled with love,
a storm in my chest
i can’t silence.

how am i so unbothered,
yet so chained?
how do i hate you,
yet still long to hold the shattered pieces
of what we could’ve been?
i don’t need you,
but sometimes i do,
when life pushes me into corners
only you know how to numb.

you’ve taught me truths
that cut deeper than any lie.
you, the lesson i never asked for,
the weight sent by something higher.
i see through you,
past the masks, past the *******,
to the person you refuse to be.
and yet i care.
why the hell do i care?

do i stay,
tethering myself to the fleeting comfort
of your situational presence?
or do i walk away,
letting the pain settle like ash,
knowing it will choke me anyway?

i feel the pull of both
to leave, to stay,
to love, to hate,
to care, to not.
and in this chaos,
i wonder:
is it strength or weakness
to care for someone
who’s never been anything but a lesson?

i wonder what it’s like to be taken away, taken away from the only thing you know, the only people you know. i wonder what it’s like to be left wondering if you ever did something wrong, if it was your fault that this all happened, or maybe it’s just bad luck. i wonder what it’s like to be in a new, unknown place that has far exceeded your comfort, your home, your life, everything you’ve ever known. i wonder what it’s like to be taken away from everything you’ve ever felt safe, comfortable, and happy with. i wonder what it’s like to be a cat.

i’ve forgotten about you, for the most part. but there are those small fleeting moments where you appear again, taking different forms.
in the clouds, in a phrase, in a specific name or word.
i keep asking myself why, but then i remember that forgetting doesn’t mean erasing.
it means tucking pieces of you away in places i don’t visit often,
only for you to surface when i least expect it.
maybe that’s what memory is,
not a clean slate but a mosaic of the things we carry,
even when we think we’ve let them go.

this is for every word i swallowed,
for every time i told myself,
“it’s not worth the fight.”
for all the nights i stayed up rewriting the ending,
a version where you stayed,
where we were enough,
where i didn’t wake up with an ache in my chest.

this is an apology letter
to the girl i used to be.
to the one who thought love
meant sacrificing everything,
even herself.
to the version of me
that believed your “hi”
meant more than a habit you couldn’t shake.

this is for the hours i spent
tracing your face in my mind,
memorizing the way your voice cracked
when you said my name,
as if it held weight.
this is for the way you convinced me
that “sorry” could glue a shattered heart.

you came back,
and i let you.
every **** time.
because even after all the wreckage,
there was still a part of me
that hoped you’d choose me.
but hope is a dangerous thing,
and i learned that the hard way.

this is for the space i carved out for you
in a life i was finally learning to love.
for the way you slipped back in
like you’d never left.
like i hadn’t spent months
rebuilding what you broke.

if you leave again,
i won’t stop you.
not this time.
because i’ve realised
you’re a storm i can’t survive twice.
but if you stay,
know this:
we’re not the same people anymore.
and maybe that’s the tragedy,
or maybe that’s the cure.

family is a storm that never fades,
tides of love mixed with bitter shades.
we try to mend what’s broken,
but some pieces are too scattered, too worn.

we hold on, though it’s hard to breathe,
still searching for calm beneath the leaves.
in the silence, we hope and pray,
that tomorrow will bring a brighter day.

these days, it seems, no one wants to read,
caught in a world of quick and instant feed.
scrolling screens and voices on demand,
the art of patience slipping from our hands.

two lines here, three words there,
a glance is all that most can spare.
they skim the surface, miss the deep,
the poems that linger, the thoughts that seep.

but maybe it’s better if they don’t see,
let them have their quick and easy.
i’ll take the lines that cut me deep,
keep the words they never keep.

i hate school.  
hate this mold they push me into, day after day,  
this system built on outdated rules, just decay  
in the shape of classrooms and tests and noise,  
where they try to shape us like we’re their toys.  

they dream of a future with us all the same,  
workers, obedient, numb to the game.  
they think they’re clever, programming minds,  
but i’m not some machine for their factory lines.  

i’m human, raw, messy, and real,  
not built to follow, not built to kneel.  
it’s not about being different, it’s about being me,  
existing on my terms, letting myself just be.  

yet here i am, trapped eight hours a day,  
forty hours a week, wasting away,  
surrounded by people i can’t stand to see,  
with voices i wish i could mute permanently.  

they talk and gossip like radios stuck on repeat,  
no one shuts up, it’s a constant beat  
of nonsense and drama, nothing profound,   
even noise canceling headphones can’t block out the sound.  

why should i suffer through this each day?  
i didn’t sign up for this, didn’t say “okay”  
to a life where i’m drained by their endless demands,  
while my own voice is silenced, restrained by their plans.  

i’d pay to erase them, to have peace of mind,  
imagine a button, like elliot, just rewind  
or mute the chaos, cut through the din 
a world where only my voice gets in.  

because i don’t care about their lives, i don’t care at all,  
i’m busy keeping myself standing tall.  
but tell me why i have to sit and decay  
in a system that strips me, day after day?  

i’m done with their rules, their outdated schemes,  
i’m finding my way beyond their tired dreams.  
they want me to fall in line, to stay blind,  
but i’m choosing myself, leaving their system behind.

i’m drifting, and i like it,
no more calls, no fake smiles,
just the quiet hum of solitude.
i’m slipping off their radar,
leaving texts unanswered,
their names blur into static.

it’s not good, but it feels real,
no masks, no roles to play.
i vanish into my own world,
where silence isn’t lonely,
just space to breathe.

i watch from the outside now,
a ghost in their lives,
a stranger in mine.
it’s like i’m disappearing,
but somehow,
i’m finally free.

they say you are what you attract,  
but i’ve only ever wanted peace,   
yet here they come, uninvited,  
like shadows i can’t outrun.

i’m told that clothes speak for me,  
but what’s left to say  
when i’m covered head to toe,  
hiding everything, and still  
they see an invitation  
in every step i take.

i’m just trying to live my life,  
to walk the streets without fear,  
to mind my own **** business,  
but they never take the hint,   
always thinking the world owes them  
a piece of me, of anyone,  
of every woman who dares to exist  
without asking for attention.

i never called for their gaze,  
never welcomed their words,  
but still, they force their presence  
like the air i wish i could escape.  
why must i suffer for their hunger,  
their lack of self-control?  
i dream of a place where women roam free,  
a sanctuary far from unwanted eyes,   
a haven where no xy chromosomes  
can claim the space we need to breathe.

but here i am, house-bound,  
a prisoner to their gaze,  
wondering why my silence  
isn’t loud enough to be heard.

anger rises like a storm within,
a fire fierce, beneath the skin.
but pause and breathe, let the moment fade,
for peace is found where wrath is laid.

hold the flame, let patience grow,
in silent strength, let mercy show.
the storm will pass, the heart will mend,
for losing one's temper is wisdom's end.

regret is the
sharpest thing
i’ve ever held but
never meant to keep.

in the shadows of dreams, we trip and we break,
where hearts clash and bleed, and silence aches.
trust your own path, let the chaos unfold,
you owe yourself more than the stories they’ve sold.

own your scars, let your true colours show,
in the wreckage of life, find strength in the low.
through every struggle, in each bitter fight,
you’re the fire that rages, igniting the night.

each morning, i open the door  
to a place that drains every ounce of joy.  
the hallway greets me with a heavy sigh,  
and instantly, my spirit drops.  

eight hours a day with faces I despise,  
in a place where every ounce of happiness  
seems to evaporate before my eyes.  
i feel like running, escaping,  
but the door that welcomes me in  
is the same one that holds me captive.

they call it “optional,”  
but the truth is far from it.  
graduate or face a future  
where choices are limited,  
a cycle of nine to five  
that feels like a never ending grind.

i’m told that this is the path to success,  
yet all i see is a repetition of old patterns,  
a system unchanged by time,  
while the world outside evolves.

every minute spent here feels like a loss,  
a theft of time that could be spent  
on dreams larger than a desk job.  
i’m meant for something greater,  
more profound than just surviving.

everything in life is upgrading,  
but the school system remains frozen,  
a relic of past eras  
while the world moves forward.  
how is it that progress touches everything  
but the one place that shapes our future?

in this trap of outdated rules,  
i find myself questioning,  
wondering why I’m forced to live  
by standards that no longer fit.