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ash 3d
i came across this post today—
it asked me if i wondered
what would be the best place to leave my heart—
even if it's bits and pieces, like shells in the sand.

made a list for my own peace,
but here to share it, if you seek to leave a piece
of your own:

the sea, people claim, carries the tranquil
and provides the cool;

the empty temples and churches,
where your heart prays and reluctantly admits;

graveyards at night,
protected by those who left their own behind.

libraries and dusty old bookstores,
in between the pages and caskets of the used shores.

sun-dappled shades of yellow, green, and orange—
once settled, the purples and pinks of the similar hues.

gardens of thorns and flowers,
the sleeves of your last lover;
knots of the willow trees,
in winter blues and heated blooms,
risky texts during the night,
with strangers i met online,
in midst of late monsoon showers,
not to miss out the midnight hours.

a few bits i leave
in the misty mornings of the early summer,
the drenched evenings of the spring shimmer.

the company of my closest companions—
in the fur of a cat,
the nip of a bunny,
the smile of a pup,
sometimes in a sunset,
in the lush green of the forests,
often in the foil of the autumn trees.

mostly on my bed,
in my tear-filled, forsaken pillow,
and against the one i sleep so dearly.
plushies and teddies,
keepsakes of childhood memories.

with all those i've met so far,
and cookie crumbles at the footstep of my life—
for those who are welcome
and those who are not.

i have left, and leave, a lot more pieces.
i wonder if my heart is a cake-a-piece.
a bit old, mostly new- i keep on editing
what can i even do
All i see
Uncovering in front of me
Tearing at the seam
Colors colliding
All around
Feel the sound
Frequency released

Turn around
Its you,
Staring into
The mirror reflecting
Hi, hello.
Finally facing she.
klarity
the ones that sees beneath

shadows, coming to rise
Inner child, always resides
within the frame,
& she hides,she silently cries
she hates the way she thinks
I feel her pain, i want to comfort her
Must keep her safe.

Yet, her patience grows thin
I can't keep playing pretend.
can only run from myself
For so long
Until there's no more distractions
to save me from my own self.
Sure,
Try to put the reflection on the shelf.
Did the old you fade away?
Or are you just lying to yourself
Rejecting & silencing the parts of you
that still need help.
---
Keep running
Keep wishing
Keep waiting
The clock
Still ticking
Keep dancing
Until your sweet ever afters
you must see your shadows,
And not run astray
Time to integrate.
A healthy array
Of truth and acceptance

Instead of judging
Seek to understand
Is what i always say,
How about i apply it to
The one who's typing this
The who cant sleep
The one who feels the emptiness
And the bliss
Yet feeling irate.
Shes a paradox wrapped in skin
She loves herself yet she hates
& she's trapped in her brain.

What causes her to act in ways.
That she will probably rregret
Tomorrows yetserday..
as we age, our inner child will always reside. Look at your triggrers, threr's a message isnide. What was left with no resolve..what are you scared of. Doesnt mean we don't change or evolve, just means that the child you, the teengage you, all parts of you that felt no resolve, who needed love.. you carry them with you. we can try false positivity, or affirmations in the mirror, but lying to yourself will do nothing. we have to look at the parts of us we rejected, they need love the most. You will awlays keep these parts of you as you grow old - its important to acknowledge their needs - and to not abandon them.  integrate, and in each shadwo we can find a posiitive trait. Hold these parts and examiene them carefully, seek to understand, and soon enough we can become whole again.
Asher Jun 18
have you ever seen the bugs that aren't really there?
heard whispers in silence, echoes in air?
do you ever drift as your body walks on
mind far away, but your limbs still drawn?

like a puppet pulled by invisible thread,
going through motions while thought plays dead.
a machine in flesh, with a ghost inside,
screaming no, while the hands comply.

that’s what i’m in, this vacant storm,
a hollow shell in a human form.
i don’t feel real; i’m smoke in the sky.
not even death feels like a why.

everything’s nothing, it all feels fake,
a dream you forget the moment you wake.
even heaven, even hell, seem bare
like bugs and noise that were never there.
Limbless
In a vacuum
Swims my mind

Little flower
That blooms
Anonymous

Leaf abound green
Leafless chills
In autumn

Awake the owl
Night sleeps
It preys

Truth is layered
The Sun defies
Lies

Broken
The words
Knew a chain
Grey May 4
When it comes to the world,
I'm a preterm baby—
I know nothing
of tales, adventures,
treachery, or wisdom.

I watch
with hooded, glazed eyes
that only understand
fragments—
splinters
of ideas.

So when I got a glimpse,
it wasn’t something
a cradle-bound soul
could ever decipher.

It's the justification of just—
It’s never just a papercut.
And it wouldn’t be.
It’s never I’m fine.
And it wouldn’t be.

My baby self
is allowed to throw a fit.
I think
every other version
should too.

But I’m only a preterm.
What do I know?
Gideon Mar 8
I was torn apart as a child.
My fragmented pieces grew like weeds, unwatered, unwanted.
I was unwanted as a teenager.
My identity is what made my mother cry, revolted, restless.
I am restless as an adult.
My anger is what keeps me up at night, terrified, torn apart.
my body is made of pretty crushed stars
tiny tin cans
and older toy cars
my brain is fragmented
filled with sorrow and woe
my hair is woven
with silk and with gold
my nails are like tokens
prizes to be sold
my body an object
a toy to be won
my life is a mess
and im having fun
words dont always have to be positive. sometimes theyre nostalgic or sad and angry. a lot of our poems are sad.
-Alexei
Vianne Lior Feb 9
He smiled like it was the last time,
And I knew it, though I didn’t ask why—
The air between us shifted,
Unspoken, like a secret the sky keeps,
Just for a moment, before it fades into silence.

His words lingered like a whisper caught in the wind,
Unspoken yet understood.
We were two fragments of something infinite,
Touching only briefly before slipping through the cracks of what could have been,
But in that brief pause, everything felt complete.
Erwinism Dec 2024
some of the best recollections i curated is that of chaos.

i know you hate it, so i will make you remember.

how you lolled your tongue at the sight of garlic in your porridge when we’ve got nothing else to eat on a rainy day.

bowls of getting by squeezed out of tired pores, crated palms with puddles of a won day, same palms like coveted napkins on the lap of the rich wiping the long breath of hopelessness from your cheeks.

reed-thin body,
bones as if wafers,
yet we sprung forward.
not a care as we watched
the jowly cheeks of wanting
puff up.

how hand-me-down yesterdays were worn—a tradition tied around a last name like All Souls’ Day candles. they peer from behind the stars, thoughts of them sparkle, they are reminded of fights, they are reminded why they left in the first place, just in case boredom pays them a visit.

i’ve come to know, the most practical way to get a golden ticket to the land of happiness is to have it handy in my heart.

but you locked it up in a gilded cage and you chased a star not knowing it’s a sunset and it just kept dipping into peaks jutting out of nowhere, you had worn out your heels and you were left with nothing but midnight instead of holding on to your blanket and watch a new day spill out of the sky.

you were insane that way.

remember the shame how magic belts turned us red and purple and upright, and how we were the grinch who stole baby Jesus away from his nativity set and got caught and were taught grownups pick on kids who didn’t know better?

remember how mathematics predetermined our future as undisputed champs of failure courtesy of our clairvoyant aunts?

it mattered little—
inconsequential, so to speak.
we heaved our arms,
hoisted our dreams
onto our scrawny frames.
our bulging chests
were enough
for us to beat,
like bongos,
we fanned the flames
until they voices
throughout the milky way.
our mother
in her innocence believed
we were capable
of many a great things
between the better parts
of her mood swings.

we were mirrors more than we were humans portioned in parts bitter and beauty, we rummaged through every chance hoping we could unearth change, but we never did until it was too late.

yet, i always had your hand in mine. we dropped out of the line and strayed away from paths stamped with footprints of approval and wandered on roads no one can see but our hearts knew.

remember the day you let go so you could hold bottles thinking they were looking glasses, thinking they fermented clarity aged in oak barrels, and day after day you took a drop until you had an ocean dissolving you?

remember how i found real estate in the promises of a girl, how i grew a house there, but then, time mistook her for dorothy and blew her away like a tumble **** into the arms of another boy?

how i bawled out and how you had a ball at my expense, laughing at my silence at open mic night?

remember when we heard a drop of a needle the size of the moon hurtling down the earth when father sat up on his bed for the last time with his eyes open as if he saw an unseen door somewhere. somehow, we heard him skittering away while he left us a fertilizer for everyone to cry about?

remember how we forgot. we dreamt under the same roof before our feet carried us away.

into the mist went we,
threads began to fray,
we forgot.

i will make you remember,
before all that i am unravels.
Moe Jan 2023
my soul is left swirling
in the black waters of ailment
i am hearing bottomless
pages of music
i am the circle with no
understanding
my internal guts and thoughts
are all delusional
i have no inner life
nothing achieved
several dreams in a fog
to reduce the fever of my futility
there is contradiction and paradox
i will say things and mean nothing
in my own minds argument
the virus of being will create awareness
of how pointless it all is
i am trapped inside a trunk
fragmented
left outside of time
i am sad delight
at long last
failing to comprehend the right way to live
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