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Peaking through the pavement,
a little burst of yellow.
Trampled and squashed
but still there,
still beautiful.
It is dark
I cannot see
I didn't grab
The complimentary
Kubz scouts ref?
You and I
The pouring sky
The street light glow
Our voices grow
The pavement hurts
But we couldn't care less
Ask for a sign from god
We are blessed
We sang songs I didn't know
Your words how they would flow
We danced and played
Our faces sprayed
Singing
Dancing
Playing in the rain
God is gay and Morgan freeman
🌙💜
35$
They made me pay
To watch you die
And leave today
Mom made me an out patient,
24 hours
My happiness, joy, quickly sours
To put you to sleep
Told me not to weep
Euthanasia (<25 lbs)
Your limp paw
The last thing I saw
As you were swept away
Your weak kitty smile
My throat filled with bile
As you were taken today
Euthanasia (<25 lbs)
My mom took me out of the in patient facility for today to euthanize my cat.
I want to stop breathing.
 May 28 bee careful
Cadmus
🎭

I’m the fire that craves,
and the frost that forgets.

Love me well,
and I’ll burn eternal.

Cross me once,
and I’ll silence the sun.

Your move.
This piece expresses emotional duality… the ability to feel deeply while remaining capable of complete detachment. It’s not a contradiction, but a warning: intensity flows both ways.
Whatever will be, will be
I guess that's what they call certainty
A vague destiny
But where does that leave you and me?
A collective we
We'll have to wait and see
Due too love messing with thé
Predetermined story

©2025
When you call 988
A computer generated voice
Tells you that you are not
Alone
 May 25 bee careful
Sovi
You called it love, then cut me open. Said it didn't hurt just a plastic knife.

But I loved you, so I didn't flinch. And that's why I still bleed.
Life doesn't come with a map.
It throws curveballs, storms, and silence.
You take the hits. You get back up.
You wear the scars like armor—not shame.

Not everyone's going to clap when you rise—
Good. You're not here for their applause.
You're here to own your story,
Not beg for a role in someone else's.

The world will try to crush you.
Lie to you.
Tell you you're too much, or not enough.
Laugh when you fall.
Doubt when you speak.
But guess what?

They don’t get to define you.
You are forged, not broken.
Bent, not beaten.
Every bruise is a blueprint.
Every fall, fuel.

So break the rules they wrote for you.
Set fire to the limits.
And walk—no, run—into the life
you were told you couldn't have.
He is gorgeous, eyes like pools of stardust.
He is pretty, in a way that defies human nature.
He is kind, in a way that so few ever are.
He is, he is, he is.
Not a love poem, just something I wrote for a friend.
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