Time drags its rusted teeth through the hours, carving paths I cannot follow.

Four years of severed threads, of reaching through fractures

where hands do not meet, where silence swallows what should have been.

You were small when I last held you, a weight I could carry, a warmth that fit inside my ribs.

Now you rise beyond the edges of my sight, a fire flickering in a room I cannot enter, a voice carried by winds that never return.

The world is made of locks, of distances built like cathedrals to the absent.

I have screamed at stone, at glass, at paper, at laws that wear no faces, at names that do not bleed.

I have torn at the seams of waiting, but limbo does not break"

it only watches.

Still, I dream in hunger, in fractures of light.

A moment where your name is more than a ghost in my mouth, where your laughter does not stretch through wires, through time, through static.

One day, I will stand beside you, not as a flicker, not as a whisper, but as something real, something whole.

Until then, I build futures in the dark, lay bricks in rooms I have never seen, sculpt a life that may never know me.

No force can break what is already broken.
No distance can erase what is already fading.

My biggest critic,
The one who constantly,
Tells me I can’t do anything,
Ironically,
My biggest critic,
Is me.

Out of curiosity,
Does it ever seem to you,
Like you judge yourself,
More than anyone else would ever do?
Or is it just me?

There’s a shadow man,
Hidden in my mind,
I can’t make out his face,
And I wish that he would go away.
He whispers cruel things,
To keep my anxious head turning,
With meaningless observation,
Leading to condemnation,
Against myself.

“What makes you think you deserve to be heard?
What makes your words better than anyone who’s come before?
Do you believe people care about what they read?
You’re just farming for sympathy!”
I can’t ignore his cries or his lies.
Why, does he despise me so?
Isn’t your mind supposed to be your greatest asset,
And your friend,
Not one who prays that you fail,
And wishes your dreams end?

They say,
“Be yourself,”
Without understanding,
The whole weight of what that means.
Acceptance is a hard road,
Especially when it’s your pain and insecurities.
The shadow man takes me to the mirror,
Tells me,
“Look in the mirror and tell me what you see!”
I refuse and look down,
Making eye contact with the ground,
Because the last thing I want to see,
Is the mess staring back at me.
You see,
To truly be yourself,
You have to look your darkness in the eyes,
Admit your flaws,
And that you are who you despise.
Then,
And only then,
Can you ever hope the shadow man to spare you from his game.
Yet, I remain,
Too afraid,
To look in the mirror,
And stare in my eyes,
Realizing the fighting,
And calamity in my mind.

The shadow man shouts,
And belittles.
What else is he to do?
Chastisement,
How his lies sound so real.
When he whispers in my ear.
“You have no gifts,
You’re just a boy,
Who people pity,
That’s how you’ve got this far.
Don’t deny it or try to fight it,
We both know it to be true,
After all,
I am you,
And who knows us better than us?
I’m the demons,
The ones you hide behind your eyes.
You should talk less,
Hide your face,
No one needs to see that.
Close your eyes,
Stop your cries,
And accept that this is fate.
You aren’t sad!
You’re dramatic!
Quit whining!
Grow a spine!
What would people say about you if this was your last day alive…?”

I freeze,
I don’t know what to say.
He laughs.
Why does he laugh at me?
I cover my ears,
And try to think.
I have thoughts in my head,
But at that moment,
They all escape,
Leaving my mind blank.
I have no response,
Forced to endure his taunts.
Little bits of paper,
Pepper and pelt my face,
As a ruler,
Taps methodically on my head.
How much can one realistically take,
Before they break?
The Joker said,
“All it takes is one bad day…”

I lay in my bed at night,
The time,
3:45,
School will be here before you know it,
Another day,
In the legal form of a circus.
To my dismay,
The shadow man,
Shows his face,
Walks over to my bedside,
And whispers in my ear.
“Today’s your favorite day,
Monday,
The beginning of the chaos,
It’s hilarious!
Just a little food for thought,
Two full years remain,
Till your life changes,
Forever,
No going back,
As you watch time pass in front of your eyes.
Disgraceful,
You don’t have a plan,
No devotion to even start!
Where will you end up,
When things begin to fall apart?
You know time’s fading faster,
Yet, you’re standing still,
And it’s all because of your weak will.
You’ll go to school,
And wish you could disappear,
Just keep looking down,
It’s gotten us this far.
And if they talk to you,
Don’t say much,
Keep them all at arm’s length.
Who needs meaningful connections?
That’s for saps!”
I want to deny him,
And tell him that he’s wrong,
But he’s kept me safe this long.
In my bubble,
Floating overhead,
Watching people live their lives,
And have a good time.

How the shadow man loves to remind me,
Of when I should’ve talked more or less,
Smiled and finessed my way,
Through the conversation,
As graceful as a dying horse.
“Why do people talk to you?
Why do they waste their time on you?”
He whispers.

I’d like to say I’m a good person,
But the shadow man,
Would say something else,
And remind me of my former friend,
The one I couldn’t help.

Sometimes it feels like,
I’m just here,
Living to live,
Surviving to survive.
Without a purpose,
Without drive.
Like a fire,
Sometimes passion dies,
And waiting for it to rekindle,
Is agonizing.
Like writing a long story,
And waiting for ideas.

One day,
I’ll look in the mirror,
And tell the shadow man what he wants to hear.
That I’m selfish,
Broken,
Hurt,
And that I take it out on others sometimes.
That I’m tired,
Irritable,
And perhaps more individual than most.
That there are parts of me I hate,
And parts of me I hold dear,
Like that inner child,
That never disappears.
That sweet somber innocence,
Of times long gone,
Snapping me back to reality,
On days when it can get to be too much.
I’ll look at the shadow man,
And stare into his eyes,
And see my own.
There’s no getting rid of him,
We pilot this ship together,
And the only way we’re making it through the flight,
Is if we work together.
I’ll hug him close,
And shake his hand,
Because at the end of the day,
While my mind is my biggest critic,
It’s also my closest friend…

When you were little,
we wandered the sunlit shore—
your laughter a bright echo
mingling with the rush of waves.
I watched as the sea snatched your red ball,
a tiny planet swallowed by surging tides,
whispering, “Hold fast to hope;
the tide always returns.”

That battered sphere, salt-bleached at dawn,
washed ashore like a small miracle,
a promise that even loss
might be reclaimed from the deep.

But the sea, vast and unyielding,
claimed more than a toy—it claimed you.
Now your towel stripes the dunes,
your slippers lie silent,
and those oversized shades, once crowning your smile,
are but faded relics of innocence lost.

Men in boats cast their nets
through dark braids of kelp,
hauling up relics—a bottle cap,
a stray shoe—
fragile tokens from an endless blue
that keeps you hidden away.

Here I stand upon this lonely shore,
my heart heavy as the crashing surf,
knowing all too well you are gone.
Yet I strain to catch the tide’s murmur,
hoping against hope
for that final, silent deliverance—
for your body to return,
so I might hold you once more
between loss and love.

The horizon hangs an empty ledger,
the tide’s cold arithmetic clear:
what it steals, it subtracts;
what it owes, it forgets.
And in that barren sum,
I remain to cling to a hope too fragile,
to let go.

A villain I made you out to be
But the truth is what I failed to see
Rather hear 'cause repeatedly you didn't fail to say
But I guess I didn't want to see it that way

I played a part in your unjust blame,
Now remorse holds me, drowning me in shame
A human you are—not demon nor saint,
Not a battle to win, so I yield in restraint

Open my eyes, I shall finally do
I'm tired of lies that I disguised as you
I can silence my cries and let go of you
Finally my eyes are open, now I can say goodbye to you

it should make me sad that you are not around
and it did too many times
you were around
and you hurt the most gentle heart with a promise that you will not
i cared that much for the first time in my life
and you asked me why
i was surprised by your question
because i thought we BOTH in love

Sometimes I feel like an alien,
Flying in my little spaceship,
Searching for a place to call my home,
Somewhere to call my own.
I must be from another planet.
What’s normal here,
Isn’t normal to me,
It fills me with fear,
That abnormality,
Isn’t so strange anymore,
How horrid.

Spite and strife,
Common friends,
Together until the end.
Such cruelty,
The normality,
Of hate and evil glee,
At the sacrifice of someone’s purity.

I know humor is subjective,
But I think objectively,
Some things are just not funny,
And shouldn’t have jokes made to laugh at.
Is that so revolutionary?

Does it ever seem to you,
That people are becoming crueler?
Is it just me?
I hope I’m wrong.
Video after video,
Of people whining and complaining,
And screaming at the waiter,
Cause they didn’t get,
The correct,
Amount of the condiment they ordered.
Fights in the streets,
Over petty disagreements.
Road rage at an all-time high,
Why?
People make mistakes,
They do it all the time,
**** it up,
Grow up,
And move on with your life!

I wonder,
What planet I came from,
Cause it sure wasn’t here.
That could be,
The reason,
Why I feel no one gets me,
We are two different species….


Society just loves to complain,
About how things aren’t that great,
But instead of changing anything,
They’ll just complain.
Always putting someone down,
To push them up,
The cowards!
Always easier to hurt another,
When you can’t look in their eyes.
Type your hatred down,
Send it in an instant,
Can’t take it back,
Don’t feel regret now.

I question,
My origin,
Because I refuse to believe,
That I am,
A part,
Of whatever we try to be…

I’ll put a drop in the bucket,
In the hope that,
Kindness will overflow,
And overthrow,
The darkness,
One day…

Sometimes I feel like an alien,
Looking for a home,
Somewhere to call my own…

If you have come to seek
Only consent & acceptance,
You will be poorly received
And denied at the entrance.
You come only to take
What you think you are entitled to,
As though it were not valuable
And as if it were freely offered.
In what you ask
There is no promise of reciprocation,
No hint that you will be grateful.
In your hunger for it,
The only guarantee
Is that you will want more.
You share no contentment,
No happy acts or jovial gestures.
The best thing for all of us
Is to deny you of our goodwill,
Perhaps it will cause you
To grow up
And be more mature.
If not,
It will at least mean the stability & security
Of our happiness & freedom.