There is no need to rush. Stop stressing around. Start looking at this very moment because this is where you truly are. Now. Alive.
This breath is needed for the next years to come. Let's give this breath our attention. Let's stay present with it.

It broke me in silence
To know he wasn’t aware
To pretend and lie to me
That I wasn’t truly loved
That he used me
That everything I felt was true
I was gaslit
I was duty
It was conditional
It was all a performance
He gave me crumbs to keeps me hoping
Words became empty
Because the actions weren’t there

Awakening to the reality
Of what was really happening
Broke me
And still I hoped he would change
I thought his patience meant he cared
It was to keep me quiet as he did what he wanted
He said why can’t I accept him as he is
I said I can’t betray myself anymore

Sometimes I am scared to write those words
I hear in dark clouds hiding
Fear and restlessness are blinding
Stuck within my heart a universe
Of thoughts, a truth, a curse,
A worry and 1001 catastrophic stories,
Images of events that have never taken place,
Fake but seem real, I believe it still...
Once again I gave in,
Drowning I found myself in painful thoughts,
Scratching my chest under my skin,
Heaviness spreads it's poisonous roots...
What does surrender even mean
If not to write a poem?
I keep on observing the within,
I hope to find answers therein...

(((()))))(((((())))
Hello ,
I posted this o
-n medium,
so I think you
can check it ou
-t  but point is
enjoy <3
((/////)(\\))











Woven into threads, from the etch of pin, and the keeled expanse that it passes through.

The fabric is filled with intention, yet lacks awareness, does it move because of the pin, is it the one that allows what passes through?

Not all threads are meant to stay, not all pins are meant to pierce, some unweaved from it’s own gaps, some don’t push through, but leave marks that something tried.

Hopeful, that the one can leave enough will, perseverance, and focus, determined to pierce and weave, a stitch that is vibrant, that makes it alive.

Once what was torn, a stripped of it’s hue, brought back together, now that is whats true.


What if it feels right, sometimes it’s a lie, that truth is ahead of the curve in your life?


I hope to believe in more than what is right, that I showcase most of my life?


                                               (1)
===================================================


I criticize, I seek in your plight, that you are worse than you sound in my mind.

I show case a case in point of this time:

(POINT 1)

You can’t be what you want in this life, so you attribute to things that are grandeur than right, you hope to be on “_ saves your life, but with no consequence of your wrongs in this life, and you’ll be saved for

(POINT 2)

what, the guilt? That’s right— or the fear, that shapes what a sleep in the night may feel like, or you feel the tremble when you realize you’ll die, and notice that things aren’t undone in this life. The truth is that you may just die in this life, and never to see the next day at the eyes. Jokes on you—

you are the reason why others feel plight, somehow you will be dead in their lives, early to elder, these wrongs in our age, come to haunt and die with us.
CONCLUSION

Your finale showcases that you are at the end of the alley, somewhere in this possibility your possible reverence is something that is older than our comprehensions, yet truth is that we change, we completely innovate, yet something that shows that we aren’t hopeful for favors, we make the made, we are possible from all those who scream at late, demanding,

“ T H I S “ (1 minute ago),

then

“ T H A T “ (4 minutes ago),

by the space of response,

and then you will seem that you love to be wrong

in every shape and form that you are

little by little, the system at large, is questionable at most at that part,
                                                                ­                                                                 ­       
but your death is the part that you left in this part.                                


    Done.
    (❤)(🔁)(👍)(👎)
    (11:45 pm AM)
                                                        (2)
­___________________


 ­   ****, look man, I get that, but I just wanted to yknow make something that I felt was cool, was I being idk, too hopeful?

_________________­____________________­_

                                      
                   ­                       has to think for a bit


===================================================

I understand the guilt, the fear and the death, and the part of myself that left whats within,
and tried to send that to a place —

i n the _ b i n .



I know, that is what is resonant about you, your creativity, your possibility to be more than what your environment do to you —
is profound already, one of the interesting parts of you, so it was what I believe:

You are interesting
beings,

built on fixed systems, that created a variable that creates meaning and
knowledge, the parts of your mind that cannot understand or equate, find ways in which you give reason for O  P  E  R  A  T  E  ,

But point being is that you are a random, and that is interesting in itself, yet you build upon systems, structures, numbers, to build on what we see as

‘ e l s e ’

the space in which you hold, that leaves at the end, truly, at the end is entropy at hand.
Point being is that you’ll receive a technical ‘ d e a t h ‘
in your hand.

    Done.
    (❤)(🔁)(👍)(👎)
    (11:45 pm AM)
                                                 (3)
___________________­

    I thought I was seriously fine, but seriously what the hell is wrong with this app, who builds an app on indifference??

by Rab [12:50:53) AM Friday April 4]

The drama in my head comes and goes.

(quiet, isn't it?)  

       the air holds its breath.  
               the walls do not move.  
                       the body is still—  
                                  at last, at last, at last.  

but time does not stop.  
        the clock hiccups,  
                        then keeps ticking.  
        the door stays locked,  
                        but the knocking doesn’t stop.  
        the phone keeps ringing,  
                        but no one picks up.  

       (were you expecting silence?)  

somewhere, the sun keeps rising.  
        somewhere, the city hums on.  
                but here—  
                           here, the world tilts,  
                                         the sky folds,  
                                                   the ground sinks beneath them.  

       a mother grips the doorknob,  
                      hand trembling like a faulty lightbulb.  
       a friend stares at the unread message,  
                      timestamped yesterday, 3:14 AM.  
       a lover traces the indent in the mattress,  
                      as if it were a wound that might still close.  

                     they always meant to check in.  
                     they always meant to call.  
                     they always meant to say—  

but meaning is a ghost,  
         and ghosts do not answer.  

       (are you listening?)  

   your name becomes an echo.  
                 a prayer, a question, a plea.  
   your room becomes an altar.  
                 untouched shirts, dust settling like snowfall.  
   your absence becomes a stain.  
                 not red. not blood. something paler, endless, unseen.  

       (is this what you wanted?)  

       the weight is gone,  
               but only for you.  
                     it latches onto their shoulders instead,  
                            vines curling, thick and unrelenting.  

   a sister walks slower.  
   a father speaks softer.  
   a friend laughs less.  

       (you left, but you did not leave alone.)  

       the world keeps turning,  
       the sun keeps rising,  
       the birds keep singing,  

       but for them, the light feels wrong,  
       the sky feels heavier,  
       and the music plays out of tune.  

       (quiet, isn't it?)  

              (but listen—someone is still crying.)

Who's To blame here?
Rewind the time
you'll find we both fear the future
you was drinking cold beer
While I was driving you crazy-
no steering wheel.
That's a bad situation
not apologizing for testing your patience
Cause you is the Einstein who made this mess
Now im stuck as a mistake you created

Streets is calling my black berry
Around my head is three thuged-out fairies
One holding a gun,
one holding some juice,
and the other one seems to be getting lose

Dap up dap up dap up,
one minute
Im in the crew our deeds seen as sinning
But as long as im with laughter
and happy ever afters
im gon' walk like im winning
The finishing line around the corner
All it takes is two knocks, law n order
All it takes is two knocks, from the border
All it takes is two shots! manslaughter

A reign of corruption,
Orders of destruction,
Displacement, replacement,
Until it suits your taste,

Wreckage of spirit,
Hollowed out to mirror it,
Enjoy your lavish luxuries,
Made of sweat, labor and fears,
Trying to justify their tears,

So let's ignore the blood pooling under your feet,
After all, it isn't you that's being beat,

Fun playing puppet master isn't it?
Typical tyrannical monarchy, innit?

Words like wasps clamor across
empty, luminant screens
Voices cast in Unicode
Feelings in Unicode screams
I close my eyes between the words
just so I can breathe
As the words start to sting
and my brain begins to swell
and the words echo
and the stings linger——
Happens ever time
Behind every letter there is a pulse
Of a stranger I will never see or know
I remind myself of the human heart
that beats behind the glow

slip into
a dewdrop 〜

take a swim
in grass blade
reflections