Why am I trying so hard to provide my greatness
To someone with a mind so small
It couldn’t even dream of
comprehending all of me
Anyways

I don’t know, maybe it’s the coffee—
Black as the night, strong as a decision
I can’t take back,
But I always add too much sugar,
And it never tastes right.

Or maybe it’s the way the sun hits my face
In the morning,
Like it’s trying to wake me up
When I don’t want to be woken,
Like it’s pushing me toward something
I’m not ready for.
I could stay in bed forever,
Pretend the world’s not spinning,
But the coffee's still too hot to hold.

Have you ever really listened to heavy metal?
Not the fake stuff,
But the kind that rips through your bones,
Makes your veins pulse with something
That feels like rage—
Or is it just the chaos in me,
The beat of a drum
That’s louder than my heart?
I get lost in it,
Like I get lost in my own head
Sometimes,
When I don’t know if I’m screaming
Or just thinking too loud.
Maybe the music’s the only thing
That makes sense anymore.

But then again,
I start thinking about how
All this stuff—coffee, music, sunshine—
It’s all a distraction, right?
Just a way to keep me from looking
At the cracks in my mind,
The ones that seem to grow
When I’m not paying attention.
It’s like I’m trying to outrun myself
With cups of caffeine and guitar riffs
And pretending I’m okay
When I’m anything but.

I keep saying I’ll stop—
Stop the overthinking, the spiraling,
The chaos I can’t shake.
But the truth is,
I don’t know how to stop falling.
Maybe it’s easier to keep crumbling,
To let the pieces scatter like broken glass,
To fall apart slowly enough
That no one notices until it’s too late.

And maybe that's all I’ll ever be—
A string of distractions,
A girl lost in her own mess,
Until the last bit of me
Finally falls away
And no one even knows
I was here at all.

They carve my name in marble,
But never spoke it in light.
They trace my letters, like a whisper,
As if they knew me by night.
The hands that reach for my stone,
Never offered any warmth before.
Their silence forged my coffin first,
Long before they grieved.
A king of dust, a throne of rot.
Now they kneel, now they pray.
But where were they when breath was still burned.
When i has still more to give.
Mean mearly shadow in their prime,
Unseen, unheard, only a passing weight.
Only once 6 feet down,
Do they feel to call fate.

In beauty's embrace, majestic with grace

Soothing, yet a lingering sense of sadness filled up the place,

Unwanted thoughts wind up like a haphazardly tied lace

Been alone countless times won't deny

Maybe it'll be over soon, sighs

I did cry, but I won't pry, I must try and try and try, relentlessly, I don't know why?

Something tells me to do so, and no I won't ask any questions, I'm too tired.

My head feels heavy and it feels cold

Yes, I am a reckless fool, but let truth be told,

hold up, behold,

A free soul, got locked up, in a stronghold, due to freefall, did a reroll, felt an unease, faulty threshold, with a default,
Setting.

Yet I thrived on, not with violence, but with a smile on,
Dreams engulfed in darkness, yet persevered and fight on.
Emotions masked, I fight on, a battle of silence, I reckon

I'm a lost soul at a crossroad, with no hope, yet I try on,
I hold my head up high, a bit shy, but I try
To change the narrative, to rewrite my sky.

I see the highs, I see the lows,
Life's a cinematic film, beautifully composed.
It's real though, no retries, no cheats,
A mistake made, a life fades, "Scream!" echoes in the streets.

Skill issue, you say? Perhaps it's true,
The presence of another is a dream I pursue.

Alas, my fumbling technique never ceases to amuse,
Back to solitude, melancholy's muse.

Walking up the road less travelled by, devoid of any gleam,
A haunting daydream, or so it would seem.

No destination, no direction, just endless extremes,
A conflicted response, a ghastly gleam.

Alone through the time, a truth I've known,
Helplessness grips, a silent pathetic moan.

Guilty, vulnerable, yet a soul set free,
I hate to admit it, but I won't concede.

Heartbreaks, anxieties, failures persist,
Giving up is foolishness, not on my list.

Break me, bury me, all for your thrill,
My body may perish, but never will my will.

Intrusive thoughts roam around, Like I’m fallin’ off of a cliff
The desire to bounce back is sharper than you think
I'm not the one who's drowned here man,
I stand alone, like a “Poneglyph”
My spirit untouched, my soul unbound like a monolith

A rowdy spirit, scorned with disdain,
I'll mock you still, throughout the pain.

I choose my role and I define my fate,
Your words, your arrogance, I disrespectfully negate.

In defiance, I speak with a voice loud and clear,
"The path is treacherous, hearts break, I fear."

The soul’s burnin’, seeking a purpose anew,
To burn it all down, tired of feeling blue.

A voice echoes, a spiteful chill,
Fate falters frivolously front of a mortal's will,
The birth of a legend, just like the Hercules’ will

The poem concludes, a profound standstill,
A journey through emotions, in verses that I instill.
                                                                             -Asher Graves

I don’t know when I stopped feeling like myself
It hit me out of nowhere
Like a storm on a sunny day
I don’t know what caused it
But Suddenly, I couldn’t feel what I used to

Things I liked doing before
They didn’t make me happy
It was disappointing
Giving up the things I loved
But there was no other choice
What’s the point of doing something you 'love'
When you stopped loving it?

Every task, big or small
It felt like a chore
Pure emptiness inside me
No matter what I do
Even when I laughed sometimes
I was just playing pretend
My life felt like I was an actor on a stage
None of my emotions were what I truly felt

It began as the smallest whisper
But now is the loudest scream
inside my head
It’s taking over my life
Until I can’t take it anymore
And I‘m dead

Counting the lines that trace my skin
Some red, some white,
Some deep, some light.
Each one a whisper:
I survived another night.

Sometimes,
I think they’re beautiful,
Other times,
I look at myself in disgust.
Maybe I should’ve never touched the blade.
Maybe I should’ve never learned
how quiet pain can be.  

The first one was nothing,
Just a scratch
“One small line won’t hurt,”
I said to myself
not knowing months later,
I still don't know what else will help

i cried out for help
my head bobbing up and down
as the waves threatened to pull me under
no one heard my pleas for rescue
my body grew tired
and i started sinking
water filled my lungs
and my vision began blackening
i floated at the bottom of the ocean
then suddenly
a rush of energy surged through my limbs
i swim to the surface
and fresh air never felt sweeter
before i know it
i'm at the shore
i flop onto the sand
and relax
with the knowledge
that no one will save you
save yourself

The black dog's whining starts inside your pain.
Your lashes flutter, closed against the light.
It drags you under, drowning you again.

My warm kisses trace your temple, all in vain,
To draw you back towards my voice, my sight.
The black dog's whining starts inside your pain.

Your skin's own scent captures sorrow's subtle stain,
A warmth receding in the morning light.
It drags you under, drowning you again. 

I smooth your hair back, feel the skin's soft grain,
Your beauty, a shadow, dim as fading starlight.
The black dog's whining starts inside your pain.

I hold you closer, though the fractures remain,
Your body present, spirit lost to white.
It drags you under, drowning you again.

I curl beside you, listening to the rain,
And breathe you in, preparing for the fight.
The black dog's whining starts inside your pain.
It drags you under, drowning you again.