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Quill Apr 18
I sit inside a body in blood that isnt my own. There are voices calling out a name, a name attached to this vessel. It's not mine.
I am conscious of my state, this sentience pains me.
I know what's out there. I know my potential, what I could be. This barrier of skin and blood prevents me. It hurts.
I'll sit in this shell of a body to be perceived by those who happen to pass by. Wading in blood that isnt my own, with skin like marble begging to be carved into, and I won't mind.
This body isnt my body, my body is inside.
I wrote this inspired by a nightmare I had once, where I was trapped in the shell of a plastic gargoyle, sitting in blood that I knew wasn't mine. Looking back on it, my brain was probably trying to make sense of my feelings, but the nightmare has stuck with me.
Quill Oct 2020
Oh how silly for a heart to yearn for a home that doesnt exist

For a chest to ache with the sickness that one only gets when they've traveled too far

For a soul to feel as though it were born in the wrong universe

For hands to tingle with idle magic at their fingertips

Until it overflows, onto a page, into a song, over pillows and sheets as tears cascade and stain and drown

Oh how tragic for Hiraeth to take hold
Hiraeth: a Welsh word for homesickness or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret. The feeling of longing for a home that never was. A deep and irrational bond felt with a time, era, place or person
Quill Jun 2020
I still lay with my back pressed against the wall
A habit I learned from the two times you slept in my bed
And a habit I need to unlearn
Quill Apr 2020
There are moments where I am painfully aware of my existence.

Of the things around me.

I start to feel like I'm floating.

I'm suddenly very aware of the tiny screen I'm holding, how my fingers move across the keys, how small it is and how tiny I am.

It's dizzying.
sometimes i feel as though im floating in my own body, everything drowns out and I'm stuck in the limbo of unreality
its a nice place, for a while
Quill Apr 2020
just because you're 'over it'
doesn't mean that it hurt any less
Quill Apr 2020
I want to scream.

I want to pull my hair
And slam my head into the wall
And bite my lip off
And scream

But I'll cry
I'll cry so silently you wont be able to hear
Not unless you pay attention
Not unless you read between the lines
Not unless you feel the pain in every word I say or type

I want to scream
So I'll cry instead
i wrote this when i was in a dark place mentally.. id like to think im better now <3
Quill Apr 2020
Heres to the lovers
Heres to the ones who have never felt the same love mirrored back
Heres to the ones who love one another
Heres to the ones who have never seen themselves depicted in media
Heres to the ones who have seen themselves depicted in media, only to be killed off when the directors think that your story is over
Heres to the ones who love like no other
To the ones who love books on a rainy day, who love sipping coffee looking out a store window, who love staring up into the vast blue of an afternoon sky
Heres to the ones who love
Heres to the ones who try to love themselves
To the ones who try to love themselves because nobody will do it for them
To the ones who cradle their own face
To the ones who rub their thumb over their own cheek
Who toy with their own hair
Who hug themselves tight
Who hug pillows and blankets and walls
Who hug friends, family
Who will hug strangers
Heres to the lovers who will put the ******* spider back outside
Heres to the lovers
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