En el borde del silencio nací,
cuando el mundo callaba y solo hablaban
las grietas del alma.

Fui eco de un suspiro antiguo,
hijo de una lágrima que no cayó,
y de un amor que jamás se atrevió a ser nombre.

Caminé entre ruinas de promesas,
pisando cristales de lo que soñé
con manos vacías
y un corazón que no sabía olvidarse.

Vi amaneceres que no me esperaban,
y aún así, me quedé.
Esperando a que alguien viera en mis ojos
el incendio que callo.

No soy poeta.
Soy herida vestida de verso.
Soy voz que sangra belleza
para no morir en el intento.

Y si alguna vez me olvidan,
que sea por no haber fingido.
Que mi verdad arda más que mi ausencia.

You said you needed distance, to step away,
But the world saw something else.
Our faces disappeared from your feed—
No trace of the smiles we once wore.
The photo on your phone, once us,
Now a blank space.

I told myself it was practical, logical—
But the ache did not listen.
It felt like a declaration, a silent broadcast:
“I am no longer taken.”

And yet, I am still tethered—
Bound to a past you are so quick to untangle.
You said it wasn’t about me,
But the absence screamed louder than words.

Did you think fading from view would ease the weight?
Did you believe I wouldn’t feel it?
But I did. I do.
You erased us in pixels and frames,
While I held on, clutching the empty space.

And still, I wonder—
Was it easier for you that way?

And at last he prayed,
Prayed since all hope had perished,
All virtues faded and all sentiments gone.
Down the river he now floats, cursed with angst and pain.
He mourns his loss but his grief won't go away, for this is the consequence —
The consequence of action he so inadvertently did without a second of thought.
Oh, the lives he ruined, the chaos he brought.
Denial is the river, and denial is what he sought.

In denial he drowned,
And in denial he remained.

-Asher Graves

I stopped listening to songs
with bridges—
they always begged.

I shrunk my appetite
until it fit inside
your gaze.

Then I shrunk
my gaze.

I killed the part of me
that expected softness.

She died
like a deer:
slow,
staring,
unconvinced
until the end.

I buried all of it
in poems
and told myself
that was healing.

But I check
the dirt
sometimes.

And things
move.

My stomach does that thing—
you know, when the ghost
rests a hand there.
Not a hit.
Just a hush,
and fingernails.

Like it never left.
Like I’m the one
who forgot to feed it.

It’s always at dawn.
Or mid-laugh.
Or in line at the dollar store—
buying nail polish I’ll chew off by Tuesday
and an eyelash curler,
just in case he sees me
from across a decade.

Then you paraglide in—
a salesman who knew I’d be home.
And the floor remembers
what I worked so hard to forget.

And I gasp—like I tripped.
But I didn’t.
I remembered.

I remembered
the ghost
you left me to raise alone.

Like:
“Hi. Just passing through.
Don’t stress on my behalf.”

I nod.
And I don’t.
I keep chewing the same nail.
My eyelashes are curled.
My stomach still does that thing.

You know the one.

Trying to keep my cool knowing i'm losing my sanity.
Knowing that feeling wasn't mutual, constantly being led on by those who leave.
Knowing that those 5 minutes of fulfilment is going to turn into emptiness.
From waking up to excitement to absolutely nothing.
Looking into the mirror knowing their sweet words now has no purpose and I question "Why?" Just why...? Reminding myself everyday that I am nothing important.
Just something to fill in someone's time. Something they go to when they are bored.
My heart is tired and all it wanted was to acknowledge not ignored.

waking up in a haze,
wondering what day it is.

nights blurring into the next,
trying to pull myself together.

lost, confused, wondering:
what the hell is wrong with me?

is this just a phase?
is this post-traumatic response
or recovery?

because everything seems
to go too fast, or
way too slow,

and i think
i'm gonna breakdown.

stupid toxic tendencies,
i keep trying every day,
and it's oh-so exhausting.

imagine an enemy,
only you can see—

man vs. self,
back to the basics
of healing and discovery.

fighting the bad thoughts,
just to get another day.

so tired and over it,
i gotta claw my way out,

or i'll never truly be set free.

The world of lies, with hollow eyes,
No, it is not the place for me.
You know I'm lonely—so lonely,
No one beside me, lost in the sea.

I long for a soulmate to carve a name
In the golden sands by the restless waves.
But the tides will come and wash it away—
Who do I turn to? Who will stay?

The sun exists, yet hides at night,
Just like me—I seem alright,
But deep inside, I fight my plight.

This world is a shadow, near in light,
Gone in the dark, out of sight.
This world won't change, I know it's true—
But one day, gold will come to you.

Let the dogs bark, let them sneer,
One day, their voices will disappear.
If they won’t let you fly, walk the sky,
If they block your path, keep moving by.

Push ahead, no matter how,
Chase your dreams, don’t stop now.
Without pain, life is incomplete,
Wings will sprout, though your back may bleed.

This world won’t change, but still, I try.
I am alone, lost in the night.
I don’t know when or how I’ll fall,
But I know—again—I’ll hit the floor.

****** tears from words that sting,
Yet life sways like a see-saw swing.
One day you're high, one day you're low,
But through it all, you learn and grow.

They discovered it and were trying to get to the bottom of it.
They had not encountered anything like this before, but they knew the effects of it.
Lying in the bed, waiting for his death, he looks as pale as a full moon night.
The aura of pain emitting from him is as gloomy as the new moon night.
They tried to cheer him up, guiding him to get out of pain, but all of them knew only he had to go through it alone.
That is the nature of the sickness that found him, which is called by the name 'love.'
There is no medicine for it except her redemption of the love given by him.