I came from silence, storms inside,
Where shadows spoke and tears would hide.
A boy made iron, flame, and thread,
I stitched my soul where others bled.

I asked the void, “Who am I now?”
No echo came—I made the vow:
To shape my mind, to sharpen steel,
To climb with scars and learn to feel.

I do not beg the stars to shine,
I build my path. The light is mine.
With every fall, I stand and grin—
Each bruise, a door I kick within.

They said, “You’re too much fire, too loud.”
But gold is never meant for crowds.
I chose the pain, the edge, the weight—
For that is where I forge my fate.

I am the man who breaks the wall,
Who walks through loss and loves the fall.
Let life strike hard—I strike it back
With vision fierce and heart intact.

I want the things they say can’t be—
The dreams too vast for eyes to see.
Not just for me, but those I love,
To lift them high, to rise above.

But I will rest, and breathe, and laugh,
And dance on broken aftermath.
For peace is part of power’s flame,
And joy is not a softer game.

I need no crown to know I won—
For I am whole when day is done.
The mirror holds my only prize:
A soul of gold, with fire in eyes.

And when I lose, I lose like kings—
Preparing for far greater things.
My failure’s just my victory’s lap,
A thunderclap before the snap.

And when I win, I build anew,
For others’ hands to climb it too.
Not envy, not control, nor pride—
But love, the storm I hold inside.

So mark these words and hold them tight:
I live for truth, I burn for light.
My name won’t fade, it multiplies—
For I am gold.

Golden, I rise.

This user is loosing interest in everything
like tabs left open, forgotten, buffering.
Notifications blink like dying stars,
but none are worth the effort of looking.

Conversations feel like code
written in languages I unlearned.
but mean none of them.

Even the mirror loads too slowly,
and when it does,
the face looks like someone
mid-update,
stuck.

The days autoplay.
The nights glitch.
And somewhere in the background,
I hear the soft hum
of systems shutting down.

I don’t think I could ever like my face,
not even on its best day.
It’s the only hall in my life
where you never lost your place.

"Great!" They said.

"So I'll be you, and you be me?"

"Correct!"

"And you'll be them, and they'll be you?"

"Accurate!"

And so they all swapped their devices,
All took each other's names/profiles,
Saying nothing of what they were actually doing!

"So who will I even be talking to?"

"Don't worry, you'll know it!"

"But how will I understand it as them?"

"Wouldn't you know if you didn't?"

Everyone wants to be cool
But I’m a collection of verbs
Never stood tall in nouns
No, I am not static
I am what I do  
and what I won’t do

I don’t repeat
By leaving
I repeat
By returning
Kassandra has been talking
I never heed her warning
Hope for the thief
Is the verb that I am
Hope for the liar
Is the verb that I am
Hope for the cruel
Is the verb that I am

Kassandra is talking
And this time I hear her
Forgiveness isn’t a one time deal
I choose it
And chose it again
But staying gone
Is the verb that I am

a stop is called
a cold drop to death
       and clothe my eyes   squint tight
then clear the screen     beam into another variant
a *******   (with a new approach)
broaching language
           ( the previous dud
         would never have dared ! )
caring less  with vicious rapping
reinvent the day  from the perspective
                                 of a new gimmy villain
**** to the experience and bite barking
            take two  you intolerable people
                                you intolerable world  
                             the intolerable harking
                                  of the intolerable day

Well, I've become who

I didn't want to be, and she --


is okay with it.

The crack in the sidewalk is my only comfort.
We've become friends overtime,
I tell her about the bottles and beer cans,
so lost I forget about the aches and pains.

She knows it's bad when I'm quiet.
I sit with the dark and listen to my sobs echo,
the rain can't drown out my thoughts.
The crack in the sidewalk is my only comfort.

Sometimes I go weeks without seeing her,
my identity drifts softly away with the tide.
Confused, I am too weak to find ground,
maybe it's best I cannot be saved.

The water leads me to my friend,
I shiver yet I cannot feel the cold.
She tells me that she's here for me,
the crack in the sidewalk is my only comfort.