No time to carry the weight of their hate,
No space to kindle bitterness within.
Here I stand, wrapped in my wounds.

No words to unravel who I am,
No need to cleanse the stains of their judgment.
Here I linger, lost in my confusion.

No understanding do I seek from souls,
No gaze of sympathy do I crave.
It’s only me and the chaos I kept.

always offered help,
never realizing that
i needed it most.

Kicked down.
Cold floor. Breath thinner than the air.
Get up.
Hands reach, no grip.
Alone, lost again.
Crying echoes back to silence.
Floods of tears—
no ark, no warmth, just noise.

Thrown down.
Fallen,
too many times.
Get up, try again.
But the hands,
they never pull me up.
Just flickers of light—
brief, empty.
Alone. Lost.
I shout, but no one hears.
A flood of tears,
they turn their backs.
Flee.
Craving warmth,
but it's just cold silence.

Craving safety, security.
A place to breathe.
But the love that’s offered,
it’s conditional.
Harsh words.
Poking, pain,
no softness.
Empty arms,
no warmth.
Alone again,
lost in the night.
I’m down here,
on the cold floor.
Don’t leave me here—
please.
Not again.
Afraid.
Empty.

A burden.
A disappointment.
That’s all I am.
A ghost, never seen,
only felt.
I love, yet all I get is hate.
Thrown back at me,
cold, sharp.
No warmth for the lost,
just more silence.
Another night on the floor,
cold,
alone.

The darkness is heavy.
I can’t rise.
Maybe this is where I belong,
buried beneath the weight.
The coldness, the grime.
No line thrown.
Alone, I sink deeper.
This feels like home—
empty, silent,
a place no one calls their own.
Another night,
heart breaking,
again.

I’m sorry.
For whatever I’ve done,
to push you away.
I can't believe it turned out like this.
Is this the end?
Another night,
more tears,
more silence.
I only wanted a place,
to belong,
to feel seen.
But I guess that’s too much to ask.

There’s a shadow in the sand
That refuses to follow my feet
They’ll kick the grains and dust away
But also refuse to eat
My little shadow claims they’ll be fine
And refuse any hand of help
They promise not to run too far
Or at least too far to be felt
They’ve been near my side
They’ll dance and they’ll play
Even if not close
But one day I’ll wake
And my little shadow in the sand
Will have been washed up in the waves

The more I observe my circle, the clearer colors show,
Truth unveiled in whispers, in shadows they throw.
They judge, they speak, casting words in the air,
Yet their inner selves mirror what they declare.

Sometimes I choose silence, not to push them away,
But their hollow words make comfort stray.
It's not that I dislike the chatter they bring,
But emptiness in speech can clip my wings.

So, I sit with my thoughts, a quiet retreat,
Listening to life, where truths discreet.
In their echoes, I find what’s real,
A sanctuary of calm where wounds can heal.

Closed doors and soundproof walls,
Yet darkness drowns these endless halls.
Flat on my bed, eyes trace the ceiling—
Does silence breathe, revealing meaning?

Silence should be the absence of sound,
But whispers swirl, echoing around.
Are phantoms lurking within these walls?
I race to the door—no soul in the halls.

I seek reprieve, a fragile peace,
Yet shadows mock; they never cease.
The remnants of ghosts choose to remain,
A torment etched in sorrow's refrain.

'Silence! ' I scream, through laughter, through tears.
Is this the mask of madness and fears?
'Who are you? Where do you hide? '
I beg for solace; none abide.

I rise to wander, fractured and blind,
Until I face the truth confined:
There is no other, no haunting kind—
Only the chaos within my mind.

The bourbon burns, its fire subsides,
Yet fails to drown what inside resides.
The whispers swell from faint to loud,
A tidal roar, a gathering crowd.

Their echoes rise, grotesque, unkind,
Blurring the edges of space and time.
Confusion spreads like vines that bind,
Tugging my soul, dismantling my mind.

The noose still hangs, a silent plea,
A relic of past attempts to be free.
Is this my sign to escape the fight,
To yield my place, dissolved through the night?

But even as despair takes hold,
A flicker of warmth, defiant and bold:
A memory stirs, its light entwined—
Perhaps the voice I hear is mine.

Hunger changes everything.
Although everyone and everything has intention,
hunger is no different, no matter what it's for.
Your heart, an apple dangling from a branch
I could not reach until I became hungry.
It became the object not just of affection,
but of my appetite.
I wanted not only to bite into it,
but to savor what makes you, you.
I reached until I grabbed it,
the apple that is your heart.
No matter how the branch swayed,
I was determined.

Under any other circumstance,
I would not have touched it,
maintaining composure when it came to
the apple of your heart.
Overthinking myself out of what could have been
one of the most beautiful things,
feeling unworthy,
until hunger made me notice you more.
Want turned to craving,
and I realized that the most precious things
erode and disappear over time.
Half smiling, yet anticipating change,
I know that, in time, I, too, will erode
remembering how sweet you were,
inviting me to quench
not just my hunger, but my thirst.
After a while, it wasn’t about hunger at all.
I just wanted to be close to you

The realm of disguise.
So apparent is intoxication, however, seen by the masses, invisible to one's own deception in the making.

A nightmare, you wake up sleepless, rushed by acquainted thoughts of the obvious and absolute tedious workings of  your insides willing to wash you out, in attempts to clear your sins.

God can't save me now, nor can the height of which my conclusions barrel off of a building that I once loved.

Home?

Perhaps the sandman that ls offered to me in little bags will allow dissociation enough.