#emotionalvulnerability
There’s a love deeper than it can swim –
Anxious of itself, that it can barely breathe…
A breath so anxious of that very first touch;
As we spin fantasies around a favourite crush…
Our courage never matches what a dream does.
When my eyes open, can my spirit open to you,
Leaning into you; my heart beating harder, like it’s
Learning to beat for two... could I be madly in love,
But still make sense of it all… sense when you’re
Not okay, even when you say “we’re okay.”
Keeping the memory of our young love –
It’s nostalgic ideal; though ideally, we can’t swim,
As far as we hope to see; can’t breathe any harder
When it’s real; but maybe when it’s real, we stop
Living through a reel, trying to capture a moment
That isn’t, “our real,” but only if you want that,
Only if you choose to be real with me.
Apr 18
Apr 18, 2026 at 3:44 PM UTC
My heart is glass, surrounded by pain—
or pane— a window no one should tap,
yet everyone does. My mind is a registry,
waiting to be filled with letters and numbers,
each thought like a record of what I owe
and what I’ve lost.
I bank my worth on others, to write myself
as a blank cheque, but when you cash me
in, what if there’s nothing left?
_Tap.
Tap.
Tap_—
Could you please not tap too hard.
Fear splinters easy these days, like a dog
lunging at shadows, like me chasing
a rabbit I’ll never hold.
The bushes rustle— something unseen,
waiting to pounce, its teeth already in my
skull, mocking a fragile picture of my demise.
Laughter claws the silence raw—
__don’t crack me up.__
Because I’m only glass. And I’m only prey.
And I’ve been hiding all along, a glass rabbit
in disguise— already hearing the fractures
before you ever touch me.
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 12:41 PM UTC
All my words are like acoustic strings; all of their emotions
black & white like piano keys. _It's love & pain intertwined_
My passions all leak at a metronome pace—then suddenly,
it feels like a nosebleed. _Being both beautiful & painful._
As I am an email for love, sent with all my attachments.
Like music, it gets all too tedious— as these aren’t poems,
not really— just signatures, kinships inked in flesh-toned
vaults, keen to sound like truth.
I'm vying in so many dry pastures, lost in this unsatisfied
fullness— an emptiness echoing into emptiness. Still, there’s
no shame in surrender; to put everything on the line—
hanging out in the sun. _To dry, wrinkle, & fade._
As my pride wasn’t just another persona, somewhere on
the clothesline. I’ve been worn thin by time; knocked down
by life with a clothesline. But still I rise, with my neck back
on the line. Destined to shine, but to you, dearest child…
these things take time.
Jul 29, 2025
Jul 29, 2025 at 5:51 PM UTC
I never knew what comfort really felt like until I met you.
Comfort, once foreign, now feels strangely asperous.
If I had known I’d be invited to dance with my demons,
I’m not so sure I would have pursued you...
Fear creeps behind me with every confident step I take toward you.
I find myself frantically searching for an escape—
an easy way out.
Who are you to enter my life with such certainty,
only to sidestep my every reach?
Perhaps this dance is not with my demons,
but with yours.
Jun 12, 2025
Jun 12, 2025 at 10:35 PM UTC
There are days I try to summon peace — to call away
the late-night ghosts still pacing the edge of sleep.
As I wear the last tears like glass in my dry eyes,
fragile, but refusing to fall.
As I hold faith in the sunrise — though I don’t know
if this night will stretch longer than I can bear, or if
tomorrow will rise with light enough to meet me again.
And if lips are a quiet prize — not just for kissing,
but for kindness — then may they still speak, softly,
with the warmth of a life beginning again.
Jun 6, 2025
Jun 6, 2025 at 3:48 PM UTC
__I. TARNISH__
__We procreate fate, from bones to belief,__
Wearing faith like a second skin— daily
soiled, weather-worn by noise and news.
Socially religious; actions are mere talk
we preach in later posts, and not prayers.
__We remember songs line for line,__ forgetting
words to the Word, that once shaped us.
__II. INTERROGATION__
_Where is your faith?_ —asks the heart.
_Where will you be in five years?_ —asks the mind.
And there—between tears and time— _laziness
holds patience, procrastination becomes a religion._
As I wear the mask of a man knowing what he’s
doing, but the fit is too perfect –to ever feel like
Truth.
__III. CONFESSION__
O Lord, hear the slow-breaking cry of my soul,
lest I forget the sound of my own weeping.
My prayers, once daily bread, are now scattered
crumbs, too few, too faint to carry my mourning,
Into the morning. And you won't hear the dirge
in my less frequent prayers or their “Amen.”
Jun 3, 2025
Jun 3, 2025 at 7:03 PM UTC
Shall the sun’s warm kiss unveil thee so divine,
Or shall shadows rise where softest light may shine?
Will dawn's embrace reveal thy hidden grace,
Or cloak thee further in a veiled, mysterious place?
For if that veil slips, what shall remain of me?
A soul undone, adrift upon a boundless sea.
Shall I, in trembling, witness thee unfold,
Thy secret beauty, yet to be untold?
Shall I fall into the chasm of thy unspoken gaze,
Where light and dark entwine in an eternal maze?
Each layer stripped away, each truth laid bare,
Revealing thy essence, yet drowning me in despair.
For in that single moment, all shall be lost or gained,
A heart laid bare, where joy and sorrow are chained.
O' fate, dost thou mock me with such trembling fear,
To cast me upon this precipice, so near?
Shall I, in thine eyes, find both love and despair,
A fleeting breath, yet heavy beyond compare?
If thou shouldst unveil thy soul to me,
What of my own—shall I remain or cease to be?
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 12:50 PM UTC
He is her mirror,
The one she stands before
Whether things are good or bad.
Until she walks away,
She doesn’t understand
The cracks spreading
Across her face,
Ignoring the obvious
She applies more makeup.
Though she’s gone,
Her presence lingers,
Soon to follow.
In front of her mirror,
She could speak as freely
As she wanted,
Be seen for who she is.
In front of family and friends,
She’s quiet,
Acting out of appearance,
Ignoring the space, she thought
Was empty.
She doesn’t think about it
Until a friend brings it up.
Talking about her own love life,
A place she feels secure.
Her friend’s smile, big and bright,
While she speaks.
She thinks of him,
Her mirror.
No matter how bad she feels.
He finds a way
To make her feel better.
If something is off,
He’s quick to point it out.
He’s always there when
She needs him.
She never had to speak
To be seen when he was around.
The only place she only felt whole.
The cracks on her face shows
Feb 21, 2025
Feb 21, 2025 at 6:12 PM UTC