sometimes a few words
can make a real
difference
in someones
life.

the moon is a whisper
on my bedroom wall,
she's ten times louder in my head

her name is a tide
it pulls,
it tugs,
it etches itself
on the inside of my eyelids.

every blink is a memory i didn't ask for
her laugh-
uninvited
but welcome
always

the bed is too big
for one body and this much longing
some nights
sleep forgets me
other nights
she replaces it

her absence is a hum
beneath the streetlight.
it slips through my curtains -
silver,
never soft enough
to hush my thoughts.
give me a break.

her name is a wind,
caught behind my ribs,
blowing through
the rooms i built for her
but never locked.

every breath feels borrowed,
taken -
like she left it behind
by accident.
like her smile,
still living in the quiet
between my heartbeats.

the bed forgets
how to hold me right,
how to put me to sleep.
some nights,
loneliness is a second pillow.
other nights,
it’s her voice -
curled up
where my dreams should be.
but they aren’t.

im thinking too much
again.
why won't you say anything?
all i said was --
"i miss you"
is that too much?
am i too much?
am i not enough?
should i love you?
it's only been a week..
i can make myself --
if it makes you happy.
am i texting too often?
did i send the wrong emojis?
was i not funny enough today?
not talkative enough?

****.
im thinking too much..
again.

i never lived there,
but i miss it
like it was home.
like i left something behind --
a version of me
still bundled up
in those hotel sheets,
in the merch line,
and in the way we laughed
way 
too loud
under those
neon blue signs.

it was just a weekend,
but the city held me
like it knew me.
like it didn't care
where i had flown from
as long as i sang
with everything
i had.

now im home.
but im not all here,
i left a version of myself
on that floor
of that arena,
still glowing.
still screaming.
still full
of everything
i want to feel again.

i left a piece of myself
in a city
i don't live in.
and some nights,
it feels like that version
of me
had it better --
louder laughter,
lighter shoulders,
less worry,
a heartbeat
in sync
with the music
she lives for.

and i wonder
if she's still
out there somewhere,
dancing along
to the beat.

i left behind
a version of me
that night,
at the concert,
on that arena floor --
lighter,
louder,
happier,
and still dancing
in a city
i don't live in.

put on the act,
put on the show --
it's all a lie.
nothing's real anymore.

lie and
mask your feelings.

hide your true self.

put on that act.
all
day.

put on that show.
until
you
bleed
to
death.

i did buy four books tonight though..

a book of poems by sappho
the bell jar by sylvia plath
agnes grey by anne brönte
the girl in question by tess sharpe

if you have any book recs like those.. i would love to hear them because im getting really into poetry books at the moment, and i love tess sharpes books..!

we never speak
just glance
across italian class
across the corridor
across everything we don't say

she sits beside.. him
laughing loudly as he kisses her cheek
but her eyes flick
they always do
to me.
the girl sitting alone
head in a book

we trade seconds
like stolen notes
neither is brave enough
to unfold
to admit
and maybe in some other version of today
those glances would have been hands

no matter what happens,
it's always her.

she's there through my
platonic breakups,
romantic breakups,
emotional breakdowns,
overwhelm,
and the nights i cry myself to sleep.

she's there
every
single
time.

that's why it's always her.


but you know..
things change.

people change.

so maybe it's not always her.
atleast not anymore,
not the way it once was.

she's not there anymore.

but honestly?
nor am i.
and im trying to move on
from her.

and i think im almost there.

happiness
to me
was her laugh
spilling into my lap
like sunlight --
warm.
and mine,
before i i knew
i needed it,
needed her.

and just like that
it's the first --
again.
a new month
arrives all too quickly
and too quietly
to prepare for.

they always say
that it's a chance
to start over,
to make new goals.
but i'm still stuck
in last months
grief.
in love that never
stayed.

everything now
feels muted --
calm
and in the wrong way.
its sort of like
the silence
after a gentle storm
you didn't see
was the end.

i used to think
love
was loud.
but the truth is,
it leaves
quickly
and quietly...
and all at once.

"act nonchalant"
"im so nonchalant"
"oh my gosh he is so mysterious!"
"why is she so mysterious and serious?"

nonchalant this,
mysterious that,
what about smiling?
showing your feelings?

showing your happiness?

laughing is better than being
nonchalant
and mysterious.

smiling is better than being
numb
and serious.

living your best life is better than being
somber
and enigmatic.

smile in photos.
laugh with your friends.
scream at concerts.
dance at parties --
or even at the store
when a good song
echoes through the speakers.

be you.

not this
nonchalant,
mysterious,
serious,
numb,
somber
and enigmatic
version of you.

because its not you.

your face,
infront of mine --
you look so heavenly
up close.
your breath grazes mine,
our noses
almost touch...
but i blink,
and you're gone. 
you're just a figment
of my imagination.

you call me petal,
suddenly im blushing
like a rose in the morning
before the sun knows to look away

your fingers brush against mine
and something blooms --
not loudly,
but like orchids
deciding its time.

you always smell like wild lavender
and stolen hours,
like the kind of spring
you never see coming
until it's already
wrapped around your ribs.

i used to hate snowdrops.
they're too open, too soft.
now i plant them into poems
because they remind me of you --
brave
enough
to bloom anyway.

this thing between us
isn't fireworks.
it's passion,
it's roots,
and patience
it feels like sunlight shared on a park bench
where your head finds my shoulder
and stays.

your favourite colour
was blue.
maybe it still is,
i wouldn't know.
but whenever i see
that deep shade of blue,
that isn't too deep to be
navy and thoughts,
but also not
light enough to be
ashy and gentle,
i think of you.
this was your colour.
and i still
see you in it.

i used to think
you just felt butterflies
for boys --
the funny,
immature,
class clowns.

but now,
i know:
the butterflies don't care
who makes them flutter.
it might be a boy.
it could also be
a girl with a
soft smile
and freckles.

and maybe
girls make them flutter
more than boys.
or maybe...
someone else does.
maybe no one does.

and that's okay.

you only ever call --
when she doesn't answer
to your pleas.
i pick up anyway,
just to hear
a voice --
one that won't
choose me.

i dont always feel
like im growing,
like im changing --
but even flowers
take their time
to bloom
and to change.

there's a feeling
in my chest --
it's a chemical ache
that fizzles
like soda,
when you pop the can open,
it happens every time
i see
her.

i like to think
you found my soul
before i had even
discovered
what it meant
to hand it over.

you whispered
forevermore
like it was a spell,
one you weren't planning
on keeping.
and i believed it.
because your eyes
said it
first.

and now you
walk past me
with that same mouth --
but it never
says my name.
yet i sit
with everything you left
unspoken,
sort of like a story
im rewriting
just to feel
chosen.

i had gotten
closer
than i
should've --
and i still
remeber
how it felt
to almost
be loved.

it was
a nice
feeling.

i always stare
at the stars
in the middle of nowhere,
because you liked constellations.
we used to find them together --
drawing silly lines in the sky
like the universe
made sense if we
connected the dots.

now i lie there,
in the middle of nowhere,
staring at the stars --
alone.
the sky holds them,
but it doesn't feel like it used to.
i can see orion
and i remeber
vividly
how your fingers traced it on my arm
like i was part of the sky too.

but you're not here anymore.
but i keep looking up,
at the constellations,
the bright stars..
just in case
you're still searching
but from somewhere
i can't see.

i forget, sometimes,
that everyone has their own world
just as full as mine.

that ******* the bus,
she always has blue glitter on her eyelids,
she has someone
she cries over
when it rains.

and that boy,
who laughs a little too loud in the hallways --
he has a grandmother
she calls him every sunday.
he has a playlist
that he never shares.

i forget
that lives unfold around me,
not just mine.
no one else's life
pauses
just because im not
in the same room as them.
they're full of joy,
grief,
midnight cravings,
and rom com dreams
that don't star me.

but tonight?
the warm city lights
look like conversations
ill never hear --
and i remeber.

she was dangerous
and in the most
silent form --
she wasn't fire,
but she was
a glance
that always
stayed
too
long.

dreams.

they're weird,
right?

a full movie plays out
in your little head
while you rest --
getting some shut eye.

but as soon as you wake up
your brain
has wiped every trace
of memory
that it had
of the movie.

all gone.

but it felt so familiar!
so safe...
so soft...
so warm...
so --
right.

but that's the whole reason
as to why
dreams are weird.

why do we dream?
why do we miss people?
why this
why that
just...
why.

i know that we're drifting.
i don't want to think its real.
i don't want to know what happens to us.
our friendship --
meant so much.
i'd hate to lose it.
i don't want that.
i want us to stay close,
stay friends.
i just need you in my life.

i need to tell you about all the gossip --
all my crushes,
all my weird fashion choices.
i need to tell you,

because i don't want to drift.

you were always
something oceanic --
pulling,
never touching,
loud
but somehow
without sound.

i had never learnt
how to swim,
but i waded into you
like i wouldn’t drown.
even though i couldn't swim.
i waded anyway,
like softness
could save me.

you had looked at me
like a wave
right before it breaks --
beautiful
confident
but too full
of something
it cannot hold.

i should’ve known.
even low tides leave salt.
even still,
quiet, gentle water
it pulls you under
if you stay too long.
especially if you stay too long.

but gosh,
you were just so --
blue.
and i was so incredibly
willing,
to just let you in
to let myself drown,
slowly losing myself.

funny,
how a person can turn into
a kind of silence --
like a voice
that never even left,
but stopped answering
all the calls
you swore
were mutal. 

you had called it
fading.
i called it
staying
in the smaller ways --
as in
the way i check
my phone
at dusk
like a ritual,
as if you'd just
appear.
because the sky
turns soft enough
for second
chances.

if missing someone
counts as calling --
i never really stopped
calling
for you.

i used to think
that i just had
awful luck.

the kind where you feel
like everything you do
is an inconvenience to everyone.
and you just can't seem
to stop
making things
go wrong.

like the other day,
i straightened my hair --
and it just started raining
the moment
i got outside.

or how last month,
i made a mistake at work
and just that moment,
my boss walked in.

or two years ago.
my best friend had left me
over a petty,
little,
stupid argument that
should've never happened
in the first place.

but i didn't just have
awful luck.

the puzzle pieces,
were slowly coming
together --
after awhile at least.
it never happens in the blink
of an eye.

i grew to love my natural hair.

the borders of it
were first,
slowly forming --

i still had my job.

clicking together.
i didn't pay any mind,
it didn't occur to me just yet
what was happening.

then the second border --

i met my best friend.

and i slowly began
to consider the idea
that there was
a meaning for this.

no, i'm not sure
if i believe in heaven
or hell,
or if theres a lord above.

but i do know
someone's there
either way.

putting together
everyone's puzzles.

i sat in the forest --
picking up leaves
and ripping them
in different ways,
different shapes
because everyone is different.

and they all break differently.

i picked a once green leaf
that was staring to brown
on the edges.

i ripped it
and it didn't break
slowly
like the others.

it just fell apart
in my hands.

but it made me look up at the
sunbeams
slipping between
the tall forest trees.

realising,
not everyone breaks slowly.

some people crumble and fall apart
all at once.

and that's okay.

you know that feeling?
when your heartbeat
just quietly moves
into your ears
your throat
your ribs
your skull --
like it's trying to upset you
or escape,
but you're the one
trapping it.

i felt it
when she brushed my arm
it was an accident -
maybe not..
i don't know
but my chest went loud
my heart beat picked up --
not fast,
just loud
like every part of me
was pulse
like it was screaming
for everyone to know
i was alive.
it was loud.

i could feel it
in my teeth
in my fingertips
in my stomach
my organs jumped
like i swallowed lightning.

it wasn't love --
not yet.
but something in me
already knew
how loudly she could make me feel
all my emotions flooded me at once
and it was just
a light touch.

dreams,
let them float
to you.

don't try
to make them
into something
you wish
to dream about.

just let
the universe
decide.

friendships are hard.
i think they always will be.

it's about
finding that in between
balance
of love,
care,
and annoying one another.

i can never seem
to find that in between.

either they
annoy me too much
and i don't speak up --
because im scared ill
hurt them,
or i care too much
and it slowly,
very slowly,
pushes them away.

or maybe im too
quiet.
not loud enough.
i am loud though --
once you know me.

i know they're
not meant to
be this difficult.
but i always feel
as though im
in the middle of
trios
and groups.

or that i distance myself
too much
even when i need to be
distanced from the noise.

it'll get better.
hopefully.
eventually.

some people find
each other
again
after a few years.

but if not,
there's plenty of people
for me
to get to know
and become friends with.

some nights,
i cry
so quietly
that it feels
like my
soul
is the one
that is doing all
the crying
for me.

sunlight spills
across her face,
the warm glow seeping
through the curtains
quietly,
while she sleeps --
like the morning
is in love with her too.

her lashes catch
the warm sun,
like she's dreaming
in golden.
i stay still,
quiet,
gentle --
not because i might wake her,
but because i don't want
to break
the moment.

i possess misfortune.

in many ways.

it feels like
all that occurs
is my fault,
the unfortunate events
of forgetting,
falling,
foolishness,
anger,
anxiety,
apprehension,
p­eople leaving,
people crying,
people dying --
is all my misfortune.

my fault.

in many ways.

i need:

kanzi apples

unselfishness

grapes

tomatoes

pasta --

shell pasta.

no i want spaghetti

shell pasta.

potatoes

cucumber

a new brain,

tell it to stop thinking about the

what ifs

and the why nots.

maybe also grab some bread.

its not my fault.
i didnt do anything wrong,
it was all
you.

it feels like you've
carefully planned this.
every millisecond,
making me
feel like the guilty one.

im not.
its not my fault.

your intention was to hurt me.
and you succeeded,
with a bonus of
making me feel
guilty.

its not my fault.
i didnt do anything wrong,
it was all
you.

it feels like you've
carefully planned this.
every millisecond,
making me
feel like the guilty one.

im not.
its not my fault.

your intention was to hurt me.
and you succeeded,
with a bonus of
making me feel
guilty.

i feel
like im
unfinished --
almost like
my life is a story
only half-told
with too many
blank pages
left.

happiness hums in the quiet light,
laughs that bloom without a why,
the warmth is caught
in passing glances-
bare tlfeet dancing through the sky
all these feelings,
tangled and small,
easily labelled as one;
happy.

i looked into
her hazel eyes
a little too long --
which had
surprisingly
been long enough
to wonder
if forever
could fit
in
a
glance.

trying to sleep without you --
is like the depths of hell
the big fires,
the scary people.

i can't get comfy.
my body burns,
aches even,
it itches
without your warmth.
without your touch.
i feel like --
im burning alive

this is the worst it gets,
right?
unable to sleep alone,
unable to cope alone,
needing you with me,
just to quiet my brain
enough
to finally get
some shut eye.

she's taking over my life
day and night --
twenty-four / seven.

her with the dark hair.
her with the ocean blue eyes.
her with the gummy smile.
her with the loud laugh.
her.
she's the one that
completely lights up
my day.
she's the one that
can change my mood
with a snap
of her fingers.

i don't miss her per se
not really-
not the way she stirred her coffee counter-clockwise
or how she spoke my name
ever so softly
like a secret
no one else could hold

i miss the feeling
of her-
that imagined life
woven in between shared glances
and almosts
the home i built
in her soft
gummy smile
before i saw the cracks

i miss what never even happened
the parallel version of us
the ones who stayed.
is that still missing her?
or just missing
being wanted
by someone
who never really could?

my ache has no address
no home
yet it answers
to her name
every time
like it's all i know
like she's all i know

i don't exactly know
why im writing this --
maybe just to say it out loud somewhere.
you probably don't even notice the way i look at you. or maybe you do, but you just don't say anything. which somehow,
hurts worse.
its stupid, really. how a simple glance from you can rearrange my whole day. you laugh and i swear that it sounds like something that i've been trying to commit to my memory forever.
i don't need you to like me back --
i think that i just needed you to know the truth.
and maybe that's selfish, maybe that's brave, maybe it's both.
but either way,
im not sending this.
ill just keep on pretending its nothing. like i always do.

my third project!

welcome "a peek into a girls notes"

bts:
little bit of bts about this project.



this project was originally meant to be a "list" of all the regrets i have. it was meant to be twelve parts.

not long after starting, i stopped.

all together.

until a week (exactly) later i was in class,

heard my teacher speak about "intensity of light" and sound waves and whatnot.

i never listen in science, so this interesting me was new.

and i knew i had to write. so i did.



and i have just now decided to finish this project in one sitting.

it's no longer a twelve part piece.

instead nine - or six. i don't remeber already haha

but i finished it in one sitting.

now it's just a notes app.

a peek into a girls notes app.



random poems.

regrets.

lists.

questions to the universe.



thank you!

- mysterie.