The rain pours on my white sweater.
I look up to the sky,
my face feels like it's covered in wood
and it swells everytime there's rain,
but no one can see my tears
because I don't cry—
not like you, not really.

I stand on the road, clear of people,
clear of the love I had
from walking on this journey.
I dream of prairies,
but I'm left with clear streets
black pavement,
and cobblestones soaked
in what might have been.

I look back,
even if my sweater's
wet and splattered by mud
every time I take a step back
so I choose to keep
walking forward.

What's behind my shoulders
isn't worth it.

If I looked close enough, maybe I could still catch the faint traces of lint drifting in the air from his clothes and his hair. He never vacuumed. His clothes were wrapped in scented trash bags and thrown into the backseat of someone else’s car. I sat at his desk, digits flitting across the screen and keyboard. Numbers and words turned into many little games and suddenly the table was far too small for this charade. A new day with a side of a strange cough and a glimpse of tea-stained mugs waiting quietly on the countertop. Little tired footsteps on porcelain became the melody I had grown accustomed to. I handed him his neatly packed things, and in exchange he lent me his ear. Then it turned to little blue bubbles. The strings connect us. Ma vacuumed his bed over twenty times in the morning before calling it quits. The traces of him were always overwhelming. It was always never enough.

I’ve moved out (of school),
I’m moving in (to school).
My joke is that I’m having a ‘moving experience.’

Graduating college (3 days ago) was a dream come true
I’m starting a master’s degree in 7 days.
You have to admire the efficiency.

Do I have your permission to bear my soul?
I might have imposter syndrome.
I’m a harsh critic—of everything—but mostly me.

I’m over the romance and pressure of school.
I’m starting the romance and pressure of school.
Don’t worry, this isn’t hapless, sad girl literature.

Or a diary—it’s a portrayal of my inner life.
.
.
A song for this:
What Dreams Are Made Of by Evann McIntosh
Messy by Lola Young [E]

If you leave me right now,                                                             ­                                 
                               ­                                                                 ­                  
there will be no going
back                                                            ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                   
So, don't think that
somehow,                                                         ­                     
                                           ­                                                                 ­            
it will be as simple as
that                                                             ­                           
                                                                ­                                                        
I'll have to harden my
  heart                                                         ­                         
                                       ­                                                                 ­              
and be stone cold to
you                                                              ­                    
                                            ­                                                              
  because once we're
apart,                                                           ­                                         
                       ­                                                                 ­                                
  I am going to be
through                                                          ­                  
                                              ­                                                                 ­         
I will have to move past,                                                            ­            
                                                                ­                                                    
all the lies that you told                                                             ­                     
                                                                ­                                                  
and to face up at last that,                                                            ­                      
                                          ­                                                                 ­             
I loved you heart and soul                                                             ­                                                                 ­      
  I can feel the distance,                                                        ­                      
                                          ­                                                                
­  between us even
now,                                                             ­                                 
                                                                ­                                                    
so, don't think persistence                                                      ­                                              
                                                                ­                                                  
will turn this back around                                                           ­                         
                                                                ­                                                  
  I'm moving out and moving
up                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­                                          
  and I am going to do
me                                                               ­                       
                                                                ­                                                        
  I won't string you along,                                                           ­               
                                                                ­                                                    
  or mourn you endlessly                                                        ­                    
                                            ­                                                                 ­   
  From the look on your
face,                                                            ­                        
                                                                ­                                                 
 you wanted to see me
cry                                                              ­                                      
                                                                ­                                                  
but your love will leave no
trace                                                            ­                        
  I guess this is good-bye

I am the soul who piled darkness in the divine’s realm.
It grows well within the ribs of mine,

Alongside anger and disgust,

Reaping in every inch of glass reflection.

And I sow sorrow freshly in the fields of life,

Acknowledging my own sin

Within the punishment that blow-dries His blessings.
I wake with fresh morning hatred.

Rage, shame, and anguish are friends of mine—

They sleep between my eyes,

Sneaking in during moments of daydreaming.
But His blessings are infinite.

Through every inhale I take,

God’s grace shows me mercy and miracles.

And I catch myself holding the point—

Of becoming nothing through death.


Stopping is not the answer;

And so I keep moving,

For the sake of life
And the gentlest death.

Our Love is a Lost Memory,
of the times of in the past,
of the time that we were together,
our relationship did not last.

As of the present, we've both move on,
to the better things in life
we weren't good for each other,
So, moving on made everything alright

No, we didn't regret our decision,
It was time to make a change,
to see what the world has in store
of the wonderful things it could bring

So, these may be Lost Memories, but
Remember we had some good days,
We'll Continue to reminisce on the good times,
These Lost Memories have now gone astray!!


B.R.
Date: 3/12/2025

The chair where you sat is still warm,
but the room has forgotten your voice.
The echoes have softened into dust,
settling in corners I cannot reach.

The morning does not knock the same way.
Its light does not ask for permission,
only spills itself across the floor,
searching for you.

Your name lingers in my throat,
a letter left unsent.
I fold it, once, twice—
but where could it go?

The streets carry on, unburdened.
Even the train you took does not look back.
Only I remain,
watching the last light fade,
pretending it might return.

would it be easier for you
not to see me at all
would you like to forget me
even if not for the sake of moving on
just to make it easier
is it hard to have known me, loved me
and for everything to be different now?
yes