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#avoidant
If he couldn’t do the small things, how could he do the big things? Silently, I begged for your eyes every night, but you chose the blue light. I will not beg for softness anymore. Love puts in the work after the spark, chosen in ordinary moments. Passion that does not leave confusion on the nervous system. Love should not make me abandon myself to keep it. Instead, he would hold me tight until my tears stopped, he would tell me “we have all night to figure this out.” His presence would pull me out of my head into his arms, and my mind goes quiet. He would challenge me to live, be bold, stand out, be wild. Trust would fuel the chemistry because he would sway me even before the night. His eyes, touch, hands, reaping of desire to be close, not taking, but staying. His patience, curiosity, effort, so **** raw, because he is vulnerable. He teaches me to relearn love, because this love is here to stay never to shrink or abandon myself for ego. In the grief, he stays, firm, capable, he reassures “I am not going anywhere.” He throws out “I’m sorry” easily, so sure, worries disappear, his voice comforts. Calm body, my mind is clear, he is direct, built on mutuality and respect. He gave, I took, he took, I gave. My safety, my love. And nothing in me wonders if he will choose himself at the cost of us. Not even suddenly, because love deserves a voice before a goodbye.
0
5d ago
May 29, 2026 at 1:43 AM UTC
"I am not going anywhere."
I accepted the cracks because I loved you, your touches, and your laugh We were beautiful; some say it was sudden, they did not see it coming But I knew something fragile would eventually break. When you broke us, something within me died Not my worth, but the weight of the fear I carried vanished. Your trembling hands let go You were always thin glass under pressure. This is my truth, I really believe That there were cracks forming around you, but not inside you “I love you,” as I held your chin, your eyes crying, but you still chose to cover the mirror. How do you live with yourself knowing you shattered something you loved? What does guilt sound like years from now? Do you replay the moment you dropped it all? Was the avoidance easier than the grief? Was it harder to lose the love, or was it harder to destroy it yourself? Questions I will never know. It is inevitable You will look back Empty hands after breaking something precious. I am cleaning up shattered pieces All the cuts from picking up the glass But we were precious, I am precious. When you broke us, something died within me Not my worth, my blindness, I was intact, firm, unbreakable Standing among broken pieces untouched, where you always left me alone, picking up the pieces. Right now I am broken, but broken things can become more beautiful when repaired Heart, authenticity, and truth shine through these fractures Because I loved openly and deeply. I know now he feared love and instead chose his loneliness. It was never about me. He broke the relationship instead of breaking himself open. He destroyed our love and yet he still deserves to be loved. After the silence healing feels like letting yourself be seen even in your brokenness.
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May 21
May 21, 2026 at 1:55 PM UTC
Empty Hands After Breaking Something Precious
I accepted the cracks because I loved you, your touches, and your laugh We were beautiful; some say it was sudden, they did not see it coming But I knew something fragile would eventually break. When you broke us, something within me died Not my worth, but the weight of the fear I carried vanished. Your trembling hands let go You were always thin glass under pressure. This is my truth, I really believe That there were cracks forming around you, but not inside you “I love you,” as I held your chin, your eyes crying, but you still chose to cover the mirror. How do you live with yourself knowing you shattered something you loved? What does guilt sound like years from now? Do you replay the moment you dropped it all? Was the avoidance easier than the grief? Was it harder to lose the love, or was it harder to destroy it yourself? Questions I will never know. It is inevitable You will look back Empty hands after breaking something precious. I am cleaning up shattered pieces All the cuts from picking up the glass But we were precious, I am precious. When you broke us, something died within me Not my worth, my blindness, I was intact, firm, unbreakable Standing among broken pieces untouched, where you always left me alone, picking up the pieces. Right now I am broken, but broken things can become more beautiful when repaired Heart, authenticity, and truth shine through these fractures Because I loved openly and deeply. I know now he feared love and instead chose his loneliness. It was never about me. He broke the relationship instead of breaking himself open. He destroyed our love and yet he still deserves to be loved. After the silence healing feels like letting yourself be seen even in your brokenness.
Continue reading...
41
My evenings lying in bed send me memories like an old carousel slide projector. I hear conversations reminiscent of a radio drama. Only to be smothered by the darkness and silence of sleep. - It kills me to hold this. To hope, to imagine, despite the end having passed. I feel like I am standing before a monument cast in bronze but now showing only the patina that it wears to protect itself. I speak to something that used to have a voice. I tell it that it is still the home I remember, while it looks back with a silence and stillness I cannot breach. I wait for it to move, to recognize me, but it is set there by circumstances in and out of its control. So deeply do I wish to embrace it, to cup its face and wipe the patina away to reveal the richness and depth of the bronze beneath. That is my fantasy, my imagined experience. But, all I can truly do is write this epigraph. You had a different, solitary experience. I know you felt underwater. That, as you fell deeper and deeper into that ocean of expectations and the pressures of things you couldn't meet, the weight kept building. There was only one escape. Only one way to free yourself of the burden of a million tons of thoughts and worries in your head. I don't blame you. I won't. I will not argue. You did what you needed to do, there was no other way. You protected yourself, and I'm grateful that you did what you could and committed an act of self-compassion. If there ever comes a day where the water recedes and you want to see who I am without the weight of those expectations, I am easy to find. But if that day never comes, or if you find your peace elsewhere, please know that is okay too. You don't owe me a return. You need to know though, if you return, you won't find anything except love here. There is no home for anything else. Care, consideration, and kindness are all that I can muster and all that I will ever offer. Even as time dulls the senses and those memories leak from my brain onto the pillow below me as I sleep, the core of it will remain. Love and the gentle heart, they are one thing. But please, trust that those are my feelings for you and not an expectation for you to meet. To me it simply, is. Regardless of your presence.
0
Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 10:46 PM UTC
I hate the way I miss you and I love the way I long for you.
My evenings lying in bed send me memories like an old carousel slide projector. I hear conversations reminiscent of a radio drama. Only to be smothered by the darkness and silence of sleep. - It kills me to hold this. To hope, to imagine, despite the end having passed. I feel like I am standing before a monument cast in bronze but now showing only the patina that it wears to protect itself. I speak to something that used to have a voice. I tell it that it is still the home I remember, while it looks back with a silence and stillness I cannot breach. I wait for it to move, to recognize me, but it is set there by circumstances in and out of its control. So deeply do I wish to embrace it, to cup its face and wipe the patina away to reveal the richness and depth of the bronze beneath. That is my fantasy, my imagined experience. But, all I can truly do is write this epigraph. You had a different, solitary experience. I know you felt underwater. That, as you fell deeper and deeper into that ocean of expectations and the pressures of things you couldn't meet, the weight kept building. There was only one escape. Only one way to free yourself of the burden of a million tons of thoughts and worries in your head. I don't blame you. I won't. I will not argue. You did what you needed to do, there was no other way. You protected yourself, and I'm grateful that you did what you could and committed an act of self-compassion. If there ever comes a day where the water recedes and you want to see who I am without the weight of those expectations, I am easy to find. But if that day never comes, or if you find your peace elsewhere, please know that is okay too. You don't owe me a return. You need to know though, if you return, you won't find anything except love here. There is no home for anything else. Care, consideration, and kindness are all that I can muster and all that I will ever offer. Even as time dulls the senses and those memories leak from my brain onto the pillow below me as I sleep, the core of it will remain. Love and the gentle heart, they are one thing. But please, trust that those are my feelings for you and not an expectation for you to meet. To me it simply, is. Regardless of your presence.
Continue reading...
12
If I don’t care, why do you keep staring in my dreams- and I wake up disappointed that it wasn‘t real? if I‘m really that tired, why am I still awake- and write of my sorrows unraveling every mistake? can it really be quiet- if the ringing never disappears? will I ever know peace- if you aren‘t here?
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Apr 21
Apr 21, 2026 at 5:40 PM UTC
insomnia
You spoke of deceivers as if you were wise, warning of damage hidden behind disguise. You described their silence, their calculated lies, how they vanish in shadows and weaponize goodbyes. You claimed you were different, morally high-rise, a seeker of truth with honorable eyes. But ego loves mirrors more than it loves advice, and virtue can be a beautifully polished device. You offered soft words, measured and precise, wrapped in affection warm as paradise. Warmth without courage turns quickly to cold ice, and comfort without honesty comes with a price. Strange how the loudest voices criticize the very reflection they refuse to recognize. Condemning the mask while perfecting the guise, building a kingdom of carefully curated replies. You prayed for the “real one,” spoke holy and nice, but hid behind distance, as timid as mice. Truth knocked once, perhaps twice, but ego chose silence over sacrifice. One day the performance will no longer suffice, no audience left to applaud your artifice. And there in the quiet, no filters, no ties, you will meet your reflection without compromise. No sermon, no stage, no flattering lights, just you and the weight of what you despise. And perhaps in that stillness, stripped of disguise, you will finally see truth through unguarded eyes. Ş.Ü
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Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 7:40 AM UTC
DISGUISE
like a moth drawn to a flame we get closer each day and it scares me a bit because i can’t love you when i don’t even love myself
0
Jan 11
Jan 11, 2026 at 1:16 PM UTC
horror stories
sonnets floating through my mind turning pages upside down only to find- there is nothing written at all. ~ soundly stepping over the people I fear they have one thing in common they were fantasies but then became real. ~ I‘m the acrobat bending every time someone demands something of me, a mockingbird without a voice screaming until my lungs start to crack without ever making a sound. ~ but only in my mind with hallways, endless to roam scratching on walls until my fingernails broke. ~ to look for a window was keeping me calm I secretly knew my illusion had none. ~ painfully pulling me out of the dark- people have tried but I turn to stone when I feel their touch.
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Dec 6, 2025
Dec 6, 2025 at 12:00 PM UTC
flow state
Somewhere in the distance Somewhere out in the cold Somewhere far far away Somewhere on your way Somewhere it was icky Somewhere it was sticky Somewhere in the situation Somewhere but "I'm sorry" Somewhere "maybe next time" Somewhere just "not right now" Somewhere I'll tell you later Somewhere beyond hello Somewhere past goodbye Somewhere in your presence Somewhere in your absence Somewhere in the noise Somewhere in the silence Somewhere in the darkness Somewhere in the void I fell out of love with you.
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Oct 30, 2025
Oct 30, 2025 at 11:49 PM UTC
somewhere in the void
I don’t need you to be sure, I just need you to be real. Say it badly; say it scared or confused. But say it. There is no love in silence; only undue longing.
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Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 9:59 PM UTC
An Ambivalent Heart
Bit on the bone-white caps Of my thumbs on-way To you, sober as a shrimp’s tramping Eyes at the end of its stalk. Had a maladious projection on paper today, Of shyness, porous as fog; every delayed Communion driven down the hall Where my blame stays Displaced. Not much to say That’s humble.
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Aug 23, 2025
Aug 23, 2025 at 12:30 AM UTC
Bitter
Oh what a tangled web I weave when bread crumbing is how I feed her appetite for me. It's quite the powerful role. Sometimes I push, sometimes I pull. Toying with her affection and attention it's just a game you see. It doesn't take much effort for me to toss a crumb her way playing with her triggers and traumas carelessly. I manipulate her sweet heart and harness her energy but then I leave her hanging by a thread swaying delicately. I like to play with a few hearts at a time. That way my options for ego strokes dance around in my mind. I don’t know I'm avoiding my own inner pain. I wear different masks to keep myself untamed.   Oh, what a tangled web you've weaved. You took my kindness for granted and ignored my heart on my sleeve. You thought you could play with me for your own gain. But instead you will stew in your own self-inflicted pain. I don't take kindly to feeling played. You see this kinda thing fuels feminine rage. It was never that I was too much. It's that you're too limited in energy, emotional regulation and such. You thought I was a basic one who you could easily get under your thumb. But you were arrogantly wrong Young Gun. Kneel before this High Priestess. And know your place. For you must now live the karmic lessons that you shaped and continue to create. That rut you say you're in and can't escape just got deeper and messier in your space. Maybe one day you'll face your fears buried deep in your soul And you'll kick yourself for letting me go. But I bid you farewell as I know my worth. I am not a coward who runs from truth in fear. I conquer it all with one silent tear as it rolls down my cheek I feel my affections for you disappear. I straighten my crown and take a seat on my throne. I now know for certain I will walk this path alone.
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Aug 7, 2025
Aug 7, 2025 at 3:30 PM UTC
Breadcrumbs
Oh what a tangled web I weave when bread crumbing is how I feed her appetite for me. It's quite the powerful role. Sometimes I push, sometimes I pull. Toying with her affection and attention it's just a game you see. It doesn't take much effort for me to toss a crumb her way playing with her triggers and traumas carelessly. I manipulate her sweet heart and harness her energy but then I leave her hanging by a thread swaying delicately. I like to play with a few hearts at a time. That way my options for ego strokes dance around in my mind. I don’t know I'm avoiding my own inner pain. I wear different masks to keep myself untamed.   Oh, what a tangled web you've weaved. You took my kindness for granted and ignored my heart on my sleeve. You thought you could play with me for your own gain. But instead you will stew in your own self-inflicted pain. I don't take kindly to feeling played. You see this kinda thing fuels feminine rage. It was never that I was too much. It's that you're too limited in energy, emotional regulation and such. You thought I was a basic one who you could easily get under your thumb. But you were arrogantly wrong Young Gun. Kneel before this High Priestess. And know your place. For you must now live the karmic lessons that you shaped and continue to create. That rut you say you're in and can't escape just got deeper and messier in your space. Maybe one day you'll face your fears buried deep in your soul And you'll kick yourself for letting me go. But I bid you farewell as I know my worth. I am not a coward who runs from truth in fear. I conquer it all with one silent tear as it rolls down my cheek I feel my affections for you disappear. I straighten my crown and take a seat on my throne. I now know for certain I will walk this path alone.
Continue reading...
48
(a poem for the women left holding the dustpan) I remember when my children were small— eager hands reaching for the broom, begging to help. They’d trail behind me, half-heartedly sweeping, missing corners, scattering crumbs. But they wanted to try. So I let them. I’d guide their tiny hands, show them the rhythm, and still end up doing it myself. They’d get tired, bored— drop the broom mid-sweep and run off laughing while I stayed behind to clean it properly. That’s what this felt like with you. You insisted. “I want this. I can do this.” So I gave you the broom. I showed you the way. I slowed down, waited, offered my heart like a home. But the minute the work began, the minute the dust stirred, you handed it back— too heavy, too much, not fun anymore. And like a child, you disappeared into yourself, while I stood there— hands full of splinters, heart full of ache, sweeping up the pieces of everything you couldn’t carry. You wanted the broom. Until you didn’t. And now I’m here, again— cleaning the mess you made of me.
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Jul 12, 2025
Jul 12, 2025 at 5:05 PM UTC
The Broom
I smell the smoke before i can see it, I feel the rod before it breaks. I burn the cake before it bakes. that's what it is to me. I split you off before you leave I **** myself before i die. I leave before you say goodbye. that's what it is to me.
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May 23, 2025
May 23, 2025 at 5:35 PM UTC
Conniption fit
After countless phases of tender summer, I take myself away to the Northern Pole, allowing frost to reclaim me once more. I turn myself into an unshakable glacier not as a form of regret, but as an ordeal, so that you may heal with your own valor. Perhaps I seem unshaken, but beneath it all, I have drowned half of my sanity, frozen to the point of being numb and frostbitten. Darkness nearly devours my soul, casting me into the pale void of agony yet I am restrained by the spark of your flame. You know you are the fire that smolders, an eternal flame I wish to plant deep within my soul. If I do not exile myself, I will keep melting, growing bolder, for in your presence, hope always rises, never falls a longing for the greatest summer, where we dissolve into one, undefeated emperors. So even as ice and fire stand apart, and if this exile is my fate, let me stand frost, unbroken, yet forever longing. No matter how far winter takes me, I will always burn in the ember of your name.
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Apr 13, 2025
Apr 13, 2025 at 2:41 AM UTC
Frost.
blood rushes under my skin as you leave me in a panic my eyes blur at the sight of you leaving me alone, again stuck in this heat. I could do without the teasing but I see it has no meaning It is familiar but new like visiting an old park where you are my new swing and I am sitting where I always sit wrapped around another finger but even at this desk we are too close together you say little and I fear I say too much you study stats as I study the way you sigh, how you look away when you talk, and how tired you look right now. I will stay because   I feel something strange when we embrace These funny feelings I chase them down and try to label but all I can do it stare and wonder.
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Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 1:14 AM UTC
after hours
After everything you said. All the promises you made. You ran and tried to Avoid You took pieces of me. Sliced them from my skin. And left nothing but A void.
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Dec 29, 2024
Dec 29, 2024 at 4:26 PM UTC
Coward
Avoidant of the decades I lived in your accolades And when I left you in the open You left me go unspoken. My pain is yours To be written on all your doors For everyone to know Hatred is the new low. And if I had something else to feel I'd say it's not real This is the new ordeal Revenge with not much else to feel. And in-between the praise They don't know the man I raised.
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Sep 27, 2024
Sep 27, 2024 at 4:43 PM UTC
Avoidant of the decades
Every time he gets closer I take a step back I tell myself don’t ever become too attracted Fear of commitment makes me wanna run Whenever I hear the word love or trust Cause those words are hard to come by And they like to fly away like butterflies They’re futile lies gone too soon That slip away from grasping hands And they flutter up some other room They didn’t remain, do you understand? They united some other bride and groom Futile lies and butterflies
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Jan 21, 2024
Jan 21, 2024 at 5:18 AM UTC
Futile lies and butterflies
Knight of the night Fearfully incising the hearts Of those you pass With pasts Of unreliable mothers Fathers And caregivers Knight of the night I try to look At your presence As a gift But in the midst Of your silken touch And unsuspecting kisses Pressing heavier You've made your impact Knight of the night I wonder of your return Do you feel shame In your silence Of naming this sweetness A forbidden fruit It will not swallow you, I promise I will not let it For if there is a day You feel you cannot leave I will lead you to the garden And leave you there So you can grow Someday I will return To enjoy the fruits Of which we loved and labored Abundant These, Gifts of two worlds Please, realize You need not be chained Gifts Of our worlds Are to be celebrated Unshackled From self-imposed narratives Free
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Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 4:27 PM UTC
Knight of the Night
iii. He reminds you that you may never be loved In the way that you are supposed to His heart opens as it should A halved pomegranate And the jewel flesh spills forward In effortless bounty Yours was wrapped in butcher paper With care, long ago It lives in the freezer In the way, way back Ice crystals form slowly Until they resemble a silver blanket of moss
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Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 1:39 AM UTC
vulnerability is a funny thing.
Though I see well enough Lucidity escapes me Left withering and splintering In the face of change In spite of the ending Something writhes inside of me A solitary heave Railing against eternity But I still cling To the bits of shade Every death is unique As detailed as a fingerprint I'm still not sure how to communicate This intrusive thought, it never goes away Please... I need is to die knowing That it wasn't all for nothing That I gave this life for something Maybe I've been too detached Maybe I've been contradicting Falling fast from what I'm needing In hopes of finding something real So outside the mind, enhanced I see visions of my self Inside my skull I sit and wait, pondering If I'm even alive, as eternity Stretches out before me, but Nothing scratches that itch Waiting for a fabrication to take me in In the days to come... I'll still cling To the bits of shade
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Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 10:34 PM UTC
The latest diaspora
For a friend I wish, but one with a heart pure For my heart was burned, more than a time or two A wall I ***** for my safety it must not fall! Strong and sturdy I build, firmly planted in the ground The vilest of creatures it must hold back Near my gate you come, not expecting this village houses one With eyes you look in, but the curtain is drawn and you see not deep within Lest you see my weakness and with that attack My arms I extend: Don’t get too close, stay beyond the end! My palms I hold out, you must know that I’m afraid Those who came before stabbed me in the side, and because of this now I hide A friend I have not found, perhaps to trust I am now unable For my trust was betrayed, more than a time or two
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Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 12:24 PM UTC
The walls
avoid whate ver there is, then panic, for these days are lengthy.
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Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 1:57 AM UTC
avpd