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k May 6
i don’t have a bruise
not now
but my skin remembers

because once,
it rooted itself there
dark and sudden
from nothing at all

or maybe something small
that shouldn’t have hurt
but did

and since then
i’ve learned
not all pain
leaves a mark
but it lingers
just the same

now i know
that pain doesn’t always
ask permission
and not all wounds
warn you first

but now
i freeze

before hands even reach
before words even fall
like muscle memory
but for fear

and now
i tense
when i shouldn’t

i flinch
before anything happens

i wait
for the hit
even when no one’s swinging

because once,
he came without warning
and now
my body remembers
even when my mind
tries to forget

because once
was enough.

no harm
just shadows
and the ache
of almost

because healing
was never
watching the bruise fade
it was learning
that the skin can clear
and still wince
at nothing

still twitch
at the memory
of blue

still ache
where there is no mark

just learning
how to live
with the fear
of it all
returning

i flinch
at nothing

because once
there was something
and it stayed

i hold still
for what might not come

i tense
for what might not come

because it once did
and that was
enough.
Paranoia does it's best work,
When someone disappears,
But you have no clue where it's gone.
No reason or rhyme,
It even seems to slow time,
Ringer on,
Pacing the back lawn.
Disappeared without a trace,
Has something gone wrong?
Have I led to some kind of distaste?
You're going nuts,
Only 40 minutes they've been gone,
Still it blinds your thoughts.
What has happened?
You were just here,
Now you're lost.
Yet for all this grief,
I'll jump at my phones trill,
Just to see,
You fell asleep.
I'm overthinking
Mariah Apr 25
You don't have to believe me when I say
They might just love you anyway

What do I even know
But they may notice if you don't show

I know it really isn't my place
To ask if you checked just in case

Knocked on the door
They slammed into my face

At least
The olive branch is free
Please,
Take it with you when you leave
I hope you don't regret it.
Sanama Mar 31
As I sit, breathing in the silence, soft light sneaks through the windows. Feels like peace, just for a second— Until that smile.

Not mine, but there, right in the mirror, lingering for too long, almost unnatural, curving in a way my lips never could done. My chest tightens—I laugh, nervously. It's nothing, I tell myself. Just my imagination, right?

But as I turn away, something pulls at the back of my mind, whispering—or maybe just a silence too loud, like waiting for a scream that never comes.

I glance back— And my reflection, staring hard. It blinks when I don't. Cold hands, shaky breath, I reach for the glass—it doesn't feel right, doesn't feel like glass.

"Is that me?" I whisper, leaning closer— And then, just like that, I wake up.

Was it a dream? Feels real, though. I sit again, breathing in the silence, light sneaking softly through my windows. Feels like peace.
A nightmare that just cycles itself endlessly. Like a story that starts with the feeling of peace before the horror begins.
Anais Vionet Mar 30
everything’s complicated
everything’s a struggle
have you noticed?
it’s a psychological horror
is this feeling the ‘adult disillusionment’ I keep hearing about?

I mean, things work, if you sit on them like an egg—
if your mother things along and helicopter a result.
I mean, what do people do who don't have
my resources and sunny disposition?

I get America’s increasing paranoia but I think that it's *** backwards. Even if someone's were out to ‘get’ you, no one actually cares about doing their job anymore. There's just so little competence around, that the dysfunction feels intentional. And because you need something and you’re helpless, you can't help but feel targeted.

But I think I figured it out, so let me elucidate—they aren't giving YOU bad service, it isn't personal—everyone is getting bad service, two pieces of chicken in the box when you ordered three, five day delivery when you’re clearly paying for two, failure’s become routine—endemic.

My go-to phrase has become, “What’ll it cost?” (the answer, usually: twice as much) “Make it so,” I say, swiping something with my Apple Watch, and suddenly, everything works!
.
.
A song for this:
decide to be happy by MisterWives
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 03/29/25:
Elucidate = to make something clear and easy to understand

My ex-navy stepfather always says, “Make it so,” it’s an old navy phrase that means, ‘proceed’
Eve Mar 9
-the walls are mumbling again.
the syllables are different
but the words are always the same.

wondering, pliant fools
the ceiling tries to sleep
but it's all no use.

find me a rhythm.
find me real soon.

salvage the pieces
of my home-brewed
gloom, in my ears
haunting the depths of the halls.
forever a ghost,
an echo, a murmur in a scrawl.-
❔♟️🗝️🕸️
Tell me, what it's like finding love – one as easy as finding your
place in the world. “No wait… that’s a terrible analogy.”

Okay tell me, is there such an easy love to find, like attending
an event that came with an open invite? I quietly watch everyone
dancing in the crowd of love. Right now, I don’t know much
about the steps; could we may-be slow dance? “Uhm… I mean
take it slow!”

Sorry, that came out so wrong – and we know for my week heart;
that’s a bit too strong. “Oh snap, I spelt weak wrong.” Maybe its
because the last time I saw you in person, it was a week ago.
“****, it feels that long!”

Anyways, the words in my mouth, clears my throat; though the
sickness still sticks… love? Could we be like two love birds;
just because of this flu. “Okay, that’s a corny bar!”  
“Are your hands sweaty – no?”

It’s a family thing; having sweaty palms. But I promise you,
I’m not secretly falling in love. “We’re friends right?”
  
                                  the many thoughts that plague his nights.
Carlo C Gomez Jan 23
All this time
I thought
We had more time...
Carlo C Gomez Jan 19
~
--third transmission--

time to be
less than alive
tube in, tube out

for madmen only
in struggles for utopia

semi-super friends
marching the hate machines
into the sun

the dehydrated sun

smashed into splinters of dead light

keep out of sight
keep behind the light
or it will hunt you down

make you one of
the thin pixelated crowd
washing their sins with stardust

the little hand is overhead...

--losing transmission--
~
Ejiro Jan 8
I sit with clammy hands gripping on my jeans
with my head facing my wooden desk
trying not to make any eye contact with the teacher
But in my chest, a severe panic stands before me randomly
soon there was a sudden watchful feeling inside me circling
multiple eyeballs were glancing at every inch of me
I watch their eyes with terror knowing they aren’t actually there
as I try to keep my composure down with deep breaths
my leg starts to shake uncontrollably
making some of my classmates notice with awe
they whisper to one another and when the teacher calls on them
they go back to doing their schoolwork
“Do they see through my disguise?”

suddenly the teacher calls my name
wanting to know if I’m alright since I seem off
I smile and tell him I’m alright , but inside I know that wasn’t true
I look at the window next to my desk
the feeling of sonder runs through my head swiftly
from every car and truck going to different directions
to the birds eating random scraps on the sidewalks
The world feels strange when you think about every little detail
and yet I can't find peace no matter how much I try to look at it in a different view perspective
I began to hear the same whispers rising again
“Are they talking about me still?”
I secure my disguise back on quickly

Every time skip, every sneeze with “bless you” , my mind’s a blur
Hiding the overflowing storm that wasn’t done with me
unsure of when it’s safe to be at ease.
I make it through my last class and began to pack my bags
But in my head, I’m not at rest.
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