#freewrite
how tiny we truly are in the grand scheme of things.
and still,
our aimless souls
persist onward,
determined to discover meaning in the chaos of existence.
if we,
humans
have no real purpose,
then it is true that
we are not confined
by the expectations of life
as much as we like to think we are.
therein, our lack of direct purpose,
means we are able to
create
said purpose
it is the beating heart and bleeding mind that give meaning to life
the canvas touched by the artist
the lyrics sang by the vocalist
the meal prepared by the chef
I try to remember this when the weight of the world feels heavy and my heart along with it.
For how lucky are we to feel, to think, to cry, to laugh, to love.
to love.
to love.
Love
Apr 29
Apr 29, 2026 at 8:20 PM UTC
My brightest star. When I met you, a new galaxy was born. One that was made from our love for each other. And that galaxy, it's interstellar! It's vast and never ending, like my love for you, like yours for me. It has many stars, ones that I'm sure you created, because just like you they're by far the most beautiful things I've laid eyes on. There's a sun too! Luminary and cosmic in size! I'm certain we made it together! That sun, it's bright, so bright, fueled by love and care, how else would it be able to burn for so long and be so radiant? But that's not all, of course, there's more! Distant nebulae: a sign of more beautiful stars being created, the endless flashing of comets whizzing by: a show of constant burning love and desire, the dancing patterns of breathtaking aurora: symbols of our enchanting love. And countless other things! Our galaxy is never just a black void, it always has constant attractions, a statement to how loving you is never boring. You're like a black hole, you have an irresistible pull, inescapable attraction! The only thing I'll ever remain beside. We'll make countless memories, you and me, and store them in those magnificent stars you make, our very own constellations. What will you name them? ... And you might be wondering , "where are we in this galaxy?" We're floating, me and you, witnessing this beautiful new place that we're creating, together.
Oct 2, 2025
Oct 2, 2025 at 11:20 PM UTC
Who knew how much dust collects when the room hasn't been occupied since the town lost comfort?
Like going down a nostalgic street and finding not one mom and pop shop survived the wreckage
Like finding the remnants of your childhood through damaged wood holding familiar sunsets
I wish I could tell you why I came back, and I wish it meant things got better, or even clearer
I guess the truth on why I haven’t found any new answers, is I stopped asking old questions
And for the time being, I got hold on how much weight drinking can crush your bones
And every sip is another joint waiting to crumble; every sip is another mistake to leave me humbled
I really wish I could fully grasp the reason I approached writing the way I used to
Maybe that person had a better idea on what to do.
Sep 18, 2024
Sep 18, 2024 at 6:58 AM UTC
sometimes,
The time it takes
to curate a reality
Where
The eyes of a hostile reflection
Don't contribute to, but consume-
the moment's prison of littleness...
Is it not possible?
To escape eternity's hour's ceaselessness?
Hope,
is too short;
we perpetuate-
it takes shape.
we preform,
then placate.
Jul 16, 2024
Jul 16, 2024 at 8:00 AM UTC
Welcome to a Taco Tuesday
With the Boys from Outer Space
It is Such a Weird Delight
To Acquaint the Human Race
If you Listen you will Hear
That the Lions now give Chase,
And ****** the Revolution,
That Ignites upon the Wastes
Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 1:46 PM UTC
I've reached the edge and now it's time to say goodbye
but it's not really goodbye forever just for now
I love you my darling
Goodbye
Mar 21, 2020
Mar 21, 2020 at 3:52 PM UTC
grasping at my supple shoulders, applying your veined, snow hands, you haul me from enfolding infirmity
Jan 7, 2020
Jan 7, 2020 at 2:38 PM UTC
She was an empty girl with worlds on her arms
Swirling, shifting, kaleidoscope dreams
She was a quiet girl with tears in her eyes
Dripping, blossoming, nourishing streams
She was a strong girl with blood on her hands
Slipping, chafing, encouraging pain
She was an important girl with jewels in her crown
Shining, glistening, cavalier fame
In her stream of consciousness
falling, falling, falling, falling
Until all that was left was an empty corpse
white, dry, draining life
Nov 25, 2019
Nov 25, 2019 at 2:16 AM UTC
My movements were eternally not my own
My distinctions, decisions, discrepancy,
Also not my own.
The creation or establishment of a newborn,
Covertly an awaiting infection of control and scare.
Because only a newborn had nothing to fear of this world or district.
I fear the air, the sun,
I cannot trust the outside,
I belong far from fear.
How must I walk if it’s controlled?
Do I march or run?
Do I look up at the sky or close my eyes in terror?
Do I engulf the fear like a sharp knife or let it eat me up instead?
Not knowing will do both.
I’m writing here because it’s my own words,
Not a speech or sharing of my gospel.
It’s a sin to my kind,
But I am not like that kind.
Please allow my independence hidden,
I can't stand the scare.
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 2:08 PM UTC
Tyrant vandal Belly buttons born from tongue toy hammer whack shameless pantomime gold-digger jezebel ***** archetype bad product off food witchy fingers green fluorescent pink yellow ray of backwards twist mother truckers flat wheel tyre engine fire engine whoop weep tear tears down ripped up feeling face straight up to ceiling baby crib our tired little limbs break against the tide I want to swim away from here place island Caribbean holiday at Christmas I don’t want to be here when I get back lead trail hike walk up the stairs followed my shadow tie me up to lamppost dead flowers bouquet take give taker giver relationship spit out the blues by Benny and The Jets riddle saxophonists up walls and silly laughter clown faces you are a good morning stream streamer party thrower down sink lob me up pipes plumber broken loo place to sit and ponder on my **** think too many faces cherub fat little smile me a river bend down here we build a fort like kids and you’re home for ***** sake safety traffic cone orange still scares me to death bobby pins left on windowsills I chuck the memory out back it makes me sick pummel the cheekbones down flat face two face baby feet get into bins bin trash bag split when I picked it up I’m covered in rotten courgetti hipster you’re a stinking mess I hate your stupid shoes walk in a straight line you drunken ******* skip home with me hop scotch decanter glass slips off side crash pop Rice Krispy cereal noise white noise rain playlist through the walls
I push through in pure stubbornness
I
leave us be
lots of love,
distance.
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 1:15 PM UTC
Words can move mountains
Or so they say
I believe it
Do you?
Words can start a life
Or end it
Words can make someone happy
Words can make someone hurt
Words are the most powerful thing
They express love and emotion
They express thoughts
Words are my world
I speak
Only to hear other's words
I want to make a change
I want the world to be a better place
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 8:24 PM UTC
I didn’t mean to hurt you
when I hurt myself . . .
I didn’t mean to cause you
any of this . . .
because, nobody should have to deal
with this . . .
but, can I ask you this?
have your wounds healed
cause, mine still haven’t.
I-I-I-I mean don’t get me wrong,
I do, indeed, hate that you’re hurting
but, see . . .
it’s nice to finally have someone around
who understands . . .
perhaps, that’s why I did it.
confessed all those things to you,
told you everything on my mind
knowing my mind is not one
that is meant to ALWAYS be shared
because of the damage
it is capable of doing . . .
I knew my strength,
I knew my weakness, too,
but I knew it’s strength, as well,
and I did nothing to stop it cause -
- WAIT NO YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND . . . !
I didn’t stop it cause I love you.
no, wait, I love your presence!
I don’t really know what it means to love
a person. I love things. I’m used to things.
These things have become my home.
These things, they become my friends when I’m alone . . .
I just wish you could understand . . .
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 8:24 PM UTC
t-t-t-t
And it goes,
t-t-t-t
And I go,
Tap-tap-tap
On the desk
My pencil quietly,
Quickly,
Beating to an invisible drum,
I still hear the
Clock,
Ticking,
The seconds pass by,
I am anxious,
I cannot breathe,
My eyes fixated
On the evil
Clock,
The slow, the painful,
The agonizing,
Clock,
And It watches me in amuse,
I hear it's laughter,
It delights in my deliriousness
And I can hardly contain another thought
But one...
Soon I will be free of it's reign,
Soon,
But not as soon
As I would hope,
I barely lean on the edge
Of unconsciousness,
And I hear
The last ring
Of the school bell,
And then...
I run.
Jan 18, 2019
Jan 18, 2019 at 1:33 PM UTC
i almost want to laugh at how much i wanted you
sleepless nights. countless.
wondering if I was even a thought on your mind.
if ever the possibility of us fluttered with one beat.
544 days
even if it was for a split second, in a prayer or a curse
you were there. marring everything that i'd built
*
it's funny. He always gives us what we need.
all i needed was something to sully this fabricated sustenance that i wanted so badly to believe in
&
here it is.
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 10:04 PM UTC
I cant fathom the "outness" of this
Like the world is a monster crushed under my fist
Spitting lines of
Cranium
5
Not enough sustanance to keep you alive
Dont look back when
The doors are closed
Im brave, but not courageous
Im the only one that knows
A vanity may be broken
And little am I open
To disappointment
I am disappointment
I am
Not sure
Where this is going
My head
Is flowing
Into a sand dune
But thats okay
I may just sit
And watch the full moon
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 12:47 AM UTC
She wore a Velvet dress,
a beautiful Burgundy,
on the day she broke your Heart.
With a glass of Wine on one hand,
and Stained Blade in the other.
You crawled to your Rusty old car,
drove yourself to the Fire Station,
and as you were driving,
you passed every Stop on the way,
arrived and pleaded they'd help you.
Only you realized the station was abandoned, unoccupied,
and uninhabited like Mars.
Suddenly worry Blushed over your face,
disgraced of the consequences of being human,
you never thought you'd Bleed your own Blood.
If Santa Claus were real,
perhaps he would bring you back.
Undeniably,
the truth had to be accepted.
Forensics got to work the next day,
they got straight to collecting their samples,
taking pictures,
the DNA of your ****** Valentine untraced,
I guess she escaped.
Your fate decided,
in heaven when you wake.
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 2:24 PM UTC
Chillin like a villain
straight stealin and killin
doin nothin but spillin
bars like the amounts of scars
on an emo kids wrist.
******
I'd like to be dismissed
not kissed
rather hear the bad news than be bull&$@+ed the good.
Excuse, I refuse to give
Sid the Science Kid
look at the things you did.
Sin, the disease is within
the skin like a shark with its fin,
thin lines follow the signs that shouldn't be crossed,
sauced with the strain
of pain inscribed in our DNA
doesn't go away,
the fully infused relentlessly proves the dues given
when due.
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 2:24 PM UTC
Do you ever find yourself wishing you could start over?
Do you yearn for the moments you never took advantage of?
Oh, how I wish I could relive the past so I could become a better me,
So I wouldn’t have to learn the hard way of living (if you can even call it that).
What exactly is living?
Whatever it is, I know I have never experienced it.
Because if I did, I would have been so much happier,
And would have felt like it too.
But as I sit here without a doubt in my mind,
That somewhere out there is thinking the same thing,
I can’t help but wonder if this is all life has to offer.
Just a box full of chocolates, spoken affections and the roses you didn’t think you would have to pick up after.
But the petals give me comfort because they didn’t enjoy this either.
It’s not like they love to be cut down only to suffer for one’s affections for another.
I guess we are all roses stuck in our vases,
Who just want to get out and feel the fresh air that the world has to offer.
All we need is just a little nurturing,
And a small packet of food we can enjoy in the meantime,
To grow and become a better flower,
Like all are expected to be once selected.
And once we are picked, trimmed and primed to perfection,
We can fill the room with our scent of beauty,
Something only some can appreciate,
Like everything else in the world.
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 10:56 PM UTC
Remember what it's like to be a person.
Remember that people only want to be loved and validated.
Remember what it feels like to make a life long friend in twenty minutes by simply picking up our instruments and playing the first thing that comes to our heads.
Remember when that song is over and you forget how to play it immediately.
Remember knowing you will never have that moment again,
creating a painting of an experience in your mind forever.
Remember when the song is over and you play a new one.
remember what it's like to attempt to use keyboard shortcuts when writing freely and recognizing how accustomed to my surroundings I am.
Remember what it's like to be a person.
Remember that people only want to be loved and validated.
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
she runs a blade
along the side of truth
tearing seams to separate
the situation from semantics
tossing context
so I am nothing more
than a consequence
of bad behaviour,
an example of pain’s twisted path
reduced from a person
to a speed bump,
slowing her life plan
a hangnail on the hand
that feeds
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 10:17 AM UTC
People ask me if I'm that one boy,
Who writes poetry so often and quietly.
And I tell them no because quite frankly,
I don't want them to know unless they inspire me.
If my heart doesn't melt,
At the sight of their face,
If I don't realize I've never felt,
My emotions this way,
Then they shouldn't have to know,
Because I wish I could say I care,
But I ultimately don't.
Sorry if that's not fair,
But I still won't,
Reveal my own feelings,
To someone who can't understand.
They can't give me healing,
But they still lend their hand.
But they can't comprehend,
That's not what I need.
What I want is to end,
All the things,
Making me mad,
Turning me crazy.
Not things that are sad,
Just coping with waiting.
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 5:30 PM UTC
i.
I feel like my legs have been stamped
and sent around the globe -
perhaps one flew to Austria to hear
the string quartet that stole my heart,
and the other walked to Amsterdam in
hopes of finding the soul I sold,
now stored on a shelf in a mason jar.
ii.
There is no metaphor,
only mileage -
a life lived long enough to realize
that love speaks louder than language,
and all an artist can do is strive to
describe the strangled kiss with
hit and miss letters,
myself no exception.
iii.
I remember tearing a photograph in two
and trying to stitch a half of each of
our faces together - forcing them to fit.
When I looked upon the product, the monster
I'd created, my legs began to shake.
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 3:22 PM UTC