#doomedyuri
Anactoria, you’re killing me
You’re killing me courtesy of his name on your lips
You’ve pilfered the air from my lungs; replaced it with CO2
I’m suffocating on words
My heart beats dully in its jail
My blood resembles cyanide
Your eyes ignite my fluttering pulse
Then
One brush of your shoulder rips the IV from my arm
My soul weeps with its mouth slammed shut
Anactoria, you’re
Killi-
Apr 22
Apr 22, 2026 at 6:51 PM UTC
There is no one to thank for Me but Me.
My parents are not Me.
My friends are not Me.
My books are not Me.
My pen is not Me.
My home is not Me.
My religion is not Me.
My clothes are not Me.
Anyone and everyone who sees Me,
They try to change Me.
For better or worse, they try to improve Me.
But I am the one who ends up being Me.
I am the one who changes Me.
So I and Mine and Myself and Me,
Is the one who determines who is Me.
There is no one to thank for Me but Me.
Everyone is to thank for Me.
My parents are Me.
My friends are Me.
My books are Me.
My pen is Me.
My home is Me.
My “religion” is Me.
My clothes are Me.
Anyone and everyone who sees Me,
They try to change Me.
For better or worse, they try to improve Me.
So they are the ones who end up being Me.
They are the ones who change Me.
So They, and Them, and Theirs, and Themselves,
Are the ones who determine who is Me.
There is everyone to thank for Me.
Apr 13
Apr 13, 2026 at 12:23 PM UTC