#jvorongan
there are days like today
when the void in my head doesn’t consume me,
when the darkness where i am doesn’t suffocate me.
it’s just there,
hovering like a quiet shadow,
pressing its weight against my back.
and there i was,
feeling its draining comfort
as though it knew i’d fought enough battles
for one day, as though it had come to keep me company.
and there i was,
letting its presence envelope me
until it was gone—
until all that was left
was my drained, bled-out body
and my mind split open,
leaking out its deafening silence.
and there i was,
sighing out all the heaviness in my chest
as though it were the last,
the only thing left to do
before everything finally ended.
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 2:57 PM UTC
i have sifted the wound in my chest for dreams gone soft with rot, spending my days stripping away the layers, as if disappointment were a skin with no depth.
how far must i carve this hollow before the marrow flickers through, before i can lift my bones like relics—fragile, foolish, still shadowed by the amaryllis that once stood, its memory lingers, refusing to die?
Sep 8, 2025
Sep 8, 2025 at 2:46 PM UTC
under this skin
is where you can find
patchworks ripped off
from me by all the people
i come across with.
each one of them
brought a part of me
to some places i long
but haven’t been to.
as though strings
were attached to them
connected to me
___and now i am all chained
by these, stretching
from where i am
to some unknown places.___
Sep 7, 2025
Sep 7, 2025 at 8:41 PM UTC
one would never understand the things i endured
just to become bruised into softness.
like a graveyard beaten down
by the endless steps of mourners—
___each footprint a weight of wanting,
each step a trial of trying.___
how strange, that what i desired most became the very thing that left me hollow. teeth pressing on these lips, crimson whispers itself away, staining the dark. my chest caves, my hands remember violence, fingernails carve crescents into my palms—
___all this, just so i could tame these tendencies,
until my hands forget their fists
and tremble into quiet.___
Sep 7, 2025
Sep 7, 2025 at 1:29 PM UTC
you don't know
how many times
i wished
and tried
to crawl out
from this skin—
to escape from
this messed-up
head and body.
_to slip delicately away from me
without annihilating the few good fragments
of my existence._
away from my deformities.
away from the detriments that i am.
away from myself.
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 10:33 AM UTC
i don't want to get to the point
where everything piles up in my chest
and it all just bursts one day
_—leaving me cracked open and unalive._
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 10:02 AM UTC
___the place where i am is kinder than that of outside.___
here, it has no shade of light—where i cannot be seen naked with all these wounds and bruises, all these incarnadine lines in both my wrists, thighs, and all that there is that became my canvas to paint away the heaviness in my chest out of crimson patches.
here, it smothers the gray smoke my skin excretes—hiding the rousing fume of my melting and clawed body.
here, i don't have to peel off my skin to expose all the decaying layers under it—stretched throughout my forlorn body i've been hiding behind poem bandages.
here, i don't have to fold myself to hide the most disgusted fragments of me—my body and bones perfectly fit in the soil delineated by the chrysanthemum flowers—waiting to be buried.
sometimes being here made me want not to be saved and let my body soaked in too much dark euphemism to decompose. besides, any place outside here that has light only unveil all of my deformities.
___any place outside here is tormenting.
any place outside here is cruel.
any place outside here is a curse.___
darling, any place outside here
makes me despise myself more
and just want to disappear.
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 9:27 AM UTC
_while you were chasing for sunset,
you forgot that the moon
will always be there for you
during darkness_
___—and i was the moon.___
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 9:15 AM UTC