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Human beings,
Akin closest to the creatures of the void,
As we consume.
Dictates of wrath falling from our hands,
Onto tablets of conversational truth.

I am conscious,
I think and do,
Still I consume too.

Leeching off the fuel writing gives me,
I run, an engine breaking through rocky walls,
Testing the boundaries of inspirational energy.
Aching with the feeling of being restrained,
Tortured by carrying,
Some few echoes of truth.
AJ 3d
What’s the worst that I could lose?
Just myself, and that I choose,
Again, again, I set the stage,
Then hand the script to someone’s rage

They smiled, I bent, I let them take,
Till I was hollow for their sake
I stitched my wounds with quiet grace,
And wore the pain like silk and lace

What harm could saying “yes” have done?
Just one more time, then I’ll be gone
But patterns loop like haunted tracks,
And every step just pulls me back

A softer voice, a trembling hand,
I thought that they would understand
But wolves, they come in human clothes,
And kindness is the path they chose

I saw the signs, I knew the script,
Yet still I let my edges slip
And in the name of “keeping peace,”
I fed the beast and called it “lease”

My heart was built to house a storm,
To twist itself in every form
And though I tried to say goodbye,
I let them in, I don’t know why

The bruises weren’t the kind you see,
They grew like roots inside of me
But I have learned: I am the gate,
Not every guest deserves my fate

So if you knock with hungry hands,
Expect to meet someone who stands
No more of me will be poured out to fill
The hollow space of someone’s will
for those who bleed politely
Joshua Phelps Jun 13
call me,
tell me
how i wronged
you—

paint me
as the villain,

but we’re both
living in sin.

you take this
like an attack,
like i’ll let you
down

one
last
time.

but listen—
there’s nothing
left to lose,

and no one’s
in the right
this time.

i rose
from the coffin
i buried myself in.

got tired
of searching
for miracles,

'cause all i'm
left with
are endings
gone bad.

and i’m so
**** tired

of spiraling
again.

so when
i told you
i needed space—

the last
thing
i wanted

was
to hear
from you.
third installment in a trilogy about heartbreak, confrontation, and emotional survival.

this piece is a reckoning—and a reminder: when the spiral returns, you don’t have to ride it.

inspired by story of the year’s “miracle.”
Ellie Hoovs May 25
Your tongue is tied,
cramped from its labor:
lip-service and laments,
twisting prophecy from parking tickets,
doom from unloaded dishwashers.
You monologue like a thundercloud,
over breakfast,
foretelling despair,
in the sogginess of cereal,
and how the day didn't start off
with just the right tone,
the sun glinting through the window
"wrong".
Every spilled cup is symbolic
every sigh a soliloquy.
You speak in psalms of pity
as if your calendar
were made for tragedies,
names written in expo,
scheduled to take turns
making you the victim.
Imagine the audacity
And when the world doesn't end,
exactly on time,
you sulk in darkened corners,
complaining about the shadows,
as if the loneliness your ego creates
isn't an apocalypse of a different kind.
The intent behind every word I utter
is spun into serpentine silk
in your ears,
so you paint me the snake,
accuse me of hissing,
when all I have done
is refused to speak Jabberwocky.
Cadmus May 22
Sharing my pain would heal me, i thought.
So I opened up
told them everything.
The sleepless nights, the buried fears, the truth.

And they listened.
But not to understand.

They turned my story into gossip.
My wounds into entertainment.
Some even laughed.

That’s when I learned
not everyone deserves your truth.
Some people don’t hold your pain.
They dance to it.
Some hearts are too shallow to hold deep wounds. Share carefully , not every ear deserves your truth.
Cadmus May 19
🚪

If your past knocks,
don’t answer.

It’s not here to talk

it’s here to wreck
what took you years
to rebuild.

Let it knock.
Let it wait.
Let it rot.

Just don’t forget:
some doors
are better sealed
forever.
This piece is a reminder that not every return deserves a welcome. The past, especially the parts you’ve outgrown, often carries the power to unravel healing. Strength lies not in revisiting, but in refusing to regress.
Cadmus May 23
🖤

Just pray
you don’t push me far enough
to show you
how heartless I can be.

I’ve buried mercy
for those who went too deep.

I’ve smiled
while walking away from flames
I used to feed.

There’s a silence in me
darker than rage,
a calm
that doesn’t beg,
warn,
or explain.

🖤
This poem is a quiet warning cloaked in composure. It speaks to the stillness that comes not from indifference, but from practiced restraint, the kind that’s capable of cruelty, but chooses silence. Until silence becomes the sharpest answer of all.
Azariah May 18
No more foresaking my peace while unspoken conversation choke me,
No more letting butterflies flutter more than the need to,
No more protecting you, while leaving my safety to chance,
No more replaying great days that erase bad days,

No more magnifying your moments of sweetness,
No more living with you in my dreams,
No more building happiness with my tears,
No more I love you more than I love me,

No more painting red flags with white,

No more,

No.
Cadmus May 12
Don’t be alarmed
if evil blooms
where you sowed
your gentlest good.

Not all earth
welcomes roots
some soils rot
what should have stood.

So plant with love,
but learn the ground,
for even light
can be misunderstood.
A reflection on misplaced effort, toxic environments, and the wisdom of discernment.
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