Seeming as though they want to crawl inside
I invite every word you sowed into my home

Restless they skitter into every corner of my room
Make themselves comfortable in my bed
Unslept in, untidy

I click my pen absentmindedly at the desk as I write
But each sentence is a copy of your kisses

You came, paved the road through icy snow
And I don’t want to reject your passion
Perhaps because, akin to my features
I am unloved

The only one there for me
The only fickle heart that
Didn’t always seem so worthless

This world revolves around an atmosphere of
Shaky hands and nervous glances
Long walks and apologies

No matter how many times I laugh
It isn’t enough to silence the poor restive dog
But the door to the backyard is locked
Don’t make me find the key

I need an answer
when you don't give me a question.

break from this hiatus of pressure
back to ultimate rebirth
there is room for a different world
in action

your hands are
a morgue for
the memory
of who I used to
be & I hate it.

i hate the shadows
that follow me in
the night
with your stalky
frame & unforgiving
hands.

I, a year ago, was a
frame of who I used
to be, trying to forget
the people in my life
who missed my ghost
more than
I did.










I cried. screamed.
I promise I fought.
but in the end, I
was a room
without an echo.

so many people used to
tell me that I had a
voice loud enough to
change the world.
but now, I
can’t even write a simple
poem.

See beauty where others don’t see beauty at all.
See happiness where others don’t see happiness at all.
When something less comes along they will realize it was beauty and happiness after all.

Shell✨🐚