#gray
we saw that
everything we had accepted
from the small moments
returned to us
when it set aside a scene
for gray-hued images
whatever this pain may be
it brings itself to us
to our region
only occasionally
without burning us either
1d ago
Jun 2, 2026 at 8:46 PM UTC
All Storms
aren't always hectic,
sometimes they are
still and calm,
they roll through
without a whimper,
This is the quiet storm,
You could sleep
through this weather,
with no interruptions at all,
just like a little baby,
as the quiet storm raindrops fall,
So, just let the raindrops,
rejuvenate your soul,
as you rest through the night,
letting the frustrations go.
become restful,
relaxed and restored,
Just calm yourself
What are you waiting for???
Sleep the night away and
by the very next day,
Rise and shine
Welcoming the bright Sunrays
into the heat that is
sunny and warm
in lieu
of the stagnant of
the past quiet storm!!
B.R.
Date: 5/21/2026
May 21
May 21, 2026 at 4:37 PM UTC
We fed on noise until it rotted thought,
Our gods were screens that never looked away;
We crowned our ruin, pixel-wrapped and bought,
Then begged for meaning as it all bled to gray.
May 4
May 4, 2026 at 9:04 PM UTC
guys guys guys guys guysssss stream the best it’s amazing, it’s THE BEST, it’s beautiful, trust me im crying in bed rn my divorced parents 🙏🙏🙏will + bran forever I swear I swear im not crazy but ahhhh im screaming it’s gorgeous it’s my child it’s one of my babies it’s going to be on loop for a good month🫶not the yt ****** ahh version! I LOVE IT SM AHHH
Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 12:32 AM UTC
There is so much suffering everywhere.
I see people who have forgotten happiness.
I see people who have abandoned hope.
I see people who have lost someone.
I see people who just cannot cope.
I see all of this and I ask
“Why?”
Why is there so much suffering and hatred and crime
when we all just want happiness and peace?
Great wars have been fought
and millions of arguments have taken place
and I just want to know
why we just keep fighting and fighting and fighting.
Maybe there is a certain beauty in struggle.
Maybe it’s okay not to be okay.
Maybe the saying “all is fair in love and war”
shows that every day is a new day.
In a world without black and white,
someday we will be okay.
Because the real truth about this world
is that there are only shades of gray.
Mar 19
Mar 19, 2026 at 9:32 PM UTC
"I hate that thing when people are like, 'Oh, you’ve worn that shirt before.' Like, no **** I bought the shirt. And the amount of times I have to tell people, 'Have you heard of a washing machine?'
"I love being dramatic because why would you ever deal with any emotion in a logical way when you could have the option of absolutely losing your mind?"
"I've been in love with a lot of people. Have they loved me back? That's the real question and the answer is no"
"I'd rather just be dehydrated. Life was fine when I was dehydrated I think about it daily to excuse my own dehydration"
"I feel terrible, I feel like I'm dying. I wonder why? Oh, because all I've had all day is like almonds and a cup of coffee, so that's why you feel like you're dying, Conan."
"It's so embarrassing to be alive! Like, the fact that you have to look at me? And I have to look at you? It’s just so awkward."
"APPOLLLL HAVE YOU? HAVE YOU EVER HAD AN APPOL??"
Jan 5
Jan 5, 2026 at 1:27 PM UTC
—The Fear of White—
I want to paint
the way I truly wish to paint.
She tests me gently.
“Then why not paint
on a white canvas?”
Her eyes sink deep
into the center of my thoughts—
as if asking
if I’m ready.
“Everyone will see you,
every corner of you,
even the parts
you never wanted to show.
Are you sure
you’re okay with that?”
A chill runs through me.
It’s frightening.
No one would really help me,
not when it matters—
even if many swear
they would.
“Look,” she says,
pointing to a canvas nearby.
I follow her finger.
Gray covers it so heavily
I can’t make out
anything at all.
She continues,
“People say we should protect
those who paint on white.
Yet they stay hidden in gray
themselves.”
I stare at the canvas.
Some must have been forced
into white
without ever wanting to be.
In a world like this,
if you don’t match
the colors around you,
you stand out
too painfully.
I need to protect myself—
the words slip out
before I even realize it,
shaking with fear.
Nov 30, 2025
Nov 30, 2025 at 10:07 AM UTC
—The Reason for Gray—
“Why is everything
covered in so much gray?”
She answers softly,
“Because seeing too much
can be dangerous.”
“Why dangerous?”
She pauses—
as if choosing her words.
“Because
that’s what everyone wanted.”
“…Why?”
“A picture too clear
is hard to handle.”
“Why hard?”
“If you make one mistake,
it all comes crashing down.
So we hide it in gray,
smooth it over,
make everyone look the same.”
Her voice stays gentle,
as though trying
to help me understand.
“It’s better that way.
For everyone.”
—And yet,
I feel something tighten
deep in my chest.
I don’t like it.
And quietly,
with whatever little strength I have,
I resist.
Nov 30, 2025
Nov 30, 2025 at 7:15 AM UTC
We draw, erase,
and draw again.
We adjust and correct,
painting what little time allows.
When the work is done,
a life takes shape on the surface—
quiet, unmistakable.
In that wide room,
canvases lie scattered:
some swept in bold arcs,
others measured
in threads of precise lines.
Each one,
utterly its own.
Yet I wonder.
Children drip color into everything,
but as we grow older
a gray undercoat settles,
softly smothering the hues we still carry.
That satisfied smile of yours—
is it truly real?
Behind the gray,
your colors
barely reach the light.
Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 6:38 AM UTC
I close my eyes, the world feels gray,
my heart beats strong, yet drifts away.
I am falling through the atmosphere,
reaching for wisdom that feels near.
Days turn to riddles shaped by light,
hope and fear stay close in sight.
Each breath becomes a quiet prayer,
I learn to trust the unknown there.
Though trembling I loosen my tight hold,
Letting life guide me gentle and bold.
It whispers softly you are here,
even while fallin thru the atmosphere.
Nov 8, 2025
Nov 8, 2025 at 8:51 AM UTC
She spoke of silver in my hair,
A tarnished crown she couldn’t bear.
If grief has painted strands with time,
Then moons must fault for nights sublime.
Each tear I shed spoke of my loss,
Each dream a wake beneath its gloss.
Reprove my truth? Oh, let it stay,
We’ll echo dusk, both turned to gray.
Aug 15, 2025
Aug 15, 2025 at 3:58 AM UTC
I feel more lonely when she's around
Than I do by myself
I can't make it make sense
And I can't put it on a shelf
It splits me in half and destroys both pieces
I can't answer why I stay
It's neither love nore is it fear
This is life in the gray
©2025
Jun 18, 2025
Jun 18, 2025 at 11:26 PM UTC
Rainy days are about as good as any,
It's a little gray and dreary,
But I love the sound of trickling drops.
She does too,
I love the rain,
When I'm with you.
Jun 6, 2025
Jun 6, 2025 at 10:15 AM UTC
It's perfect,
My life.
Not a single worry to be found.
But when will it all fall apart?
When will I bolt out of bed
And realize it was never real?
This life of smiles
And laughter
It’s too perfect.
And feels too real,
Even as the corners fade to black.
Convinced:
Not awake,
I know I'm dreaming.
But the thing I dread most…
Is waking up.
How much longer do I have before the hourglass is empty?
How much farther can I tread before the road ends?
Not far, it seems.
The alarm screams at 6 am.
The fever dream shatters,
As I grasp at the jagged pieces.
I am dragged through my existence
In this dreary, gray world.
Until I fall back asleep.
Apr 25, 2025
Apr 25, 2025 at 7:25 PM UTC
You haven’t sung this song for some time
The pain returns tears well up in your eyes
You’re writhing like twisting, turning, treetops in a storm
No comfort coming your way
Just endless waves of torn
You’ve got no time for this but time is all you have left
The disease is torturing you to Death
You give it nothing but it takes it all your breath
Your insanity wrecks havoc on you Day and Night
Your lovely soul keeps you in the fight
Don’t let a pirate in the night steal you blind
You’ve everything and nothing to lose
Dark machinations it has for you
Gray glowing moon
No more Silver Spoon
Twisting turning room for you
The Demon returns until Balance you earn
Steady your rudder
Hands upon the wheel
Find your center and Victory you shall steal
Apr 4, 2025
Apr 4, 2025 at 9:29 AM UTC
Feelingless eyes flicker through the streets.
They see cars moving around.
Their owners blend with the vehicles
until society becomes nothing but a uniform machine.
A uniform, lonely, horrible machine.
Everything
becomes
gray.
Apr 3, 2025
Apr 3, 2025 at 3:53 AM UTC
I told my soul to rest to let your absence be
But why this constant falling make this soul's insanity
Each glimpse, a bitter nectar a joy that cuts like pain
How do I unweave this feeling?
This feeling of consuming chain
I've waited through the silence
Where dreams have turned to gray
Now I'm steeped in blue, where longing holds its sway.
Mar 27, 2025
Mar 27, 2025 at 9:21 AM UTC
Well I'm sure,
These rainy days won't stay forever.
There's not a chance,
Clouds are big enough to hold that much.
So that is how I know,
The sun will come out and melt this snow!
Feb 27, 2025
Feb 27, 2025 at 9:44 AM UTC
I get excited for another ride
On the bus of life we go
The limit of the view is my sight
The end of the road is death,
Or at least as far as i know
But the colors of the city dried out
They look faint, They're ugly and bold
But how old am i to think that
how many lies I've been told
Since when did my sight go bad
Since when I've lost all hope
Since when did the city go gray
Since when did the sun get old
The bus of life wont wait for me
but i have no reason to go
The colorful city stays bright
But i can't see anything, I can't let go
Feb 17, 2025
Feb 17, 2025 at 1:02 PM UTC
The weather is important when writing a play,
Such is when Romeo and Juliet was shown,
It was a cold and raining day.
So the audience would forget about the heat,
Off in fair Verona had Shakespeare failed,
To keep mention of the begrudging summer.
Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 2:00 PM UTC
What do you see when you look my way?
Do you see me, or do you see something else?
Do you see all the imperfections I possess?
These imperfections make me feel less.
Like the shell of a girl in a picture frame.
Do you see what I see in the mirror looking back at me?
A body, all deformed but shapely; this body has had two beautiful babies.
What do you see when you look at my face?
Do you see the unevenness of my eyebrows and the squint in my left eye?
Maybe there are enough glasses for it to hide behind.
Do you see the freckles splattered on my face?
The sun hasn't been gentle on this aging face.
What do you see when you look at me?
Do you see my darkened eyes, so deep and dark that the colors almost don't shine?
Do you see this hair? It's starting to thin with little strands of gray.
What do you see when you look at this aging woman who is almost forty years old?
Maybe…me?
Jan 22, 2025
Jan 22, 2025 at 9:44 PM UTC
Somebody tell the sky,
That it doesn’t have to be gray,
If it doesn’t want to anyways.
It’s awfully hard,
To rain on someone’s parade,
If the sun is shining through you.
Even when your curtain is closing,
That’s no reason for you,
To not give the best finale you can.
Jan 15, 2025
Jan 15, 2025 at 8:22 PM UTC
Oh dove, oh dove from yonder oak tree.
Hearken your eyes to gaze upon me.
Lend thy wings, in which grant you flight.
So that I might gaze down at the world tonight
Soar with me, in clouds of gray.
The two of us, together, searching for the suns ray.
Oh dove, oh dove from yonder oak tree.
Grant me courage, so that I may not flee
Give me hope, and the power to do what's right.
For right now, I wave a banner of white.
so grant me solace, and sleep on this day.
Oh dove, oh dove perched high on the oak, I hope you stay.
Jan 11, 2025
Jan 11, 2025 at 11:35 PM UTC
Bonjour Gray Man,
What is on the menu for breakfast today?
A black coffee and a plate of blueberry jam,
On plain white bread.
A blueberry, for the blue in you,
Coffee and bread, because you find it tasty.
Gray Man of Paris,
What's here that you fancy?
What led you to leave to shaded land,
Of pencil-paper men?
Was it a secret love of bright colors,
That you look so dreary against?
Well salut Gray Man,
Enjoy breakfast in the colored land.
Jan 9, 2025
Jan 9, 2025 at 10:53 AM UTC
It’s dry and still in the house this afternoon,
The way houses are at 4:00 in December.
I feel a little itchy and claustrophobic,
Sitting on the floor.
I hate this ******* carpet.
Berber.
I know you love me,
But sometimes I wish you would let me destroy myself completely.
Darkening winter gray settles over us in a dull film,
Berber carpeting the world.
It seeps into the house through cracks in the doorframe you kicked down when we were locked out that night.
Into me too, coating my brain and joints and dreams in liquid fog.
The streetlights will be dark awhile yet.
Cotton ***** fill up my mouth
And I’m fine, just fine.
My grandmother’s favorite color was gray before people awarded points for such things.
It’s nearly night, now, and the sky swirls with peek a boo pink and blue where the clouds are thin and blowing.
No streetlights yet.
The shadows gather at their feet.
I pull out the spaghetti;
Time to start dinner.
Dec 18, 2024
Dec 18, 2024 at 4:45 PM UTC