#fallenman
Pictures of my present— but none of them smile back.
Just me, talking to the man in the mirror,
_his eyes tired,
his silence loud._
He stands in the frame, wrapped in skins made of fear—
To stand tall beneath the titles they gave him;
_layered, worn,
worn down._
To call it strength when you pretend to be more than you are.
But no one asks what it costs to keep holding up the
_image they’ve
painted of you._
I want to stop performing, but giving up feels like giving in
to everything they already believe about me, there's never an
_account for the fallen man—
only fingers pointed,
as they count him out like a statistic._
I think about a demise so often it no longer shocks me.
It just waits—patiently— like something I’ve already
_shaken hands with,
gripped by time pressing on me._
Sometimes I feel like I’m boiling alive, my chest
cracking open with a salty crunch, like a crab
_in a sealed ***
no escape, just steam and pressure._
A slow, bitter truth: no one’s turning the heat down.
And all I can say is—
“Crap.”
_Not funny. Not light._
Just the word that stumbles out when your soul folds
in on itself and even pain doesn’t know
how to explain itself anymore.
Jun 23, 2025
Jun 23, 2025 at 6:37 PM UTC
Tending fruit of what we leave behind,
roots break walls we build.
Hope grows heavy,
then it falls—
like Jericho.
Once there was glory,
then the world swallowed it whole.
I am not cursed,
but every apple I’ve bitten
tastes of the core.
Where there is money,
there is love—
and the root of all evil,
sweet poison.
I watch the lives of others,
dreams they wear like fine garments.
We chase illusions,
so gladly,
so foolishly—
to end up full on nothing.
Trust me, and know me whole:
I’ve floated on white lines,
pretending innocence
with powdered breath.
Say goodbye too many times,
and I won’t answer the last one.
This is my sonnet—
the count of the fallen man.
_All men have fallen._
And when the call reaches your heart,
what cost does love demand?
It speaks in voices tender, cruel—
the sound of devotion
from a wicked heart.
_All men have fallen.
All men have fallen._
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 3:20 PM UTC