#lostfriends
Once, I built a sanctuary for you,
stone by stone,
with the mortar of trust and the glass of faith.
I lit candles in your name,
believing your presence was holy,
believing your words were pure.
But shadows crept through the arches,
their whispers wearing your voice.
The stained glass splintered,
colors bleeding into the dirt,
saints crumbling into faceless dust.
The altar cracked beneath the weight of falsehood,
and I was left kneeling in ruins,
hands empty, prayers unanswered.
False friends do not storm the gates;
they enter quietly,
draped in the robes of devotion.
Their smiles are soft as velvet,
their promises gilded like scripture,
yet beneath it all
they carry the silence of betrayal.
You were not my enemy.
You were worse,
the ghost in the choir,
the hollow echo in the hymn.
Your absence began long before you left,
your faithlessness written in secret ink
between the lines of every vow.
Now I wander the cathedral of memory,
its pews lined with ashes,
its windows nothing but jagged teeth of glass.
The incense of grief still lingers,
smoke that curls around my lungs,
a perfume of what was lost.
I mourn not only you,
but the version of myself who believed
the childlike trust,
the faith untested,
the hope that friendship was sacred.
All of it lies entombed here,
buried beneath stone and silence.
And yet
even in this hollowed ruin,
I light one candle.
Not for you,
never for you,
but for the lesson carved into bone:
that trust, once shattered,
does not resurrect.
That faith, once broken,
becomes a haunting.
The cathedral stands,
but it is no longer holy.
It is a mausoleum of what I gave,
what I lost,
and what can never return.
©️ Dark Water Diaries
Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 4:59 PM UTC
You asked me to tell you
About the angels and God.
You swore you could hear them—
You just couldn’t understand.
So I told you of Michael
And how he rose to the occasion
While fixing the front door that you broke in.
You warned me to lock the deadbolt from now on.
“Don’t just lock the ****
Use the chain too, in case I break through.”
You never could trust.
Life left you abused.
Wherever you are now,
Know that someone is praying for you.
Feb 28, 2025
Feb 28, 2025 at 11:44 AM UTC
Here I sit
In this basement of
some other house
In the core of the city-
I'm almost on my own...
This January's night
Flashes frozen-
As I adicite, light
I see all that I've chosen:
perturbation, and frustration,
Entwine in all my fascination
Stinging- they whip my body &
paint on lacerations
What you've chosen I cannot see
And the light I catch redefines me
Shadows ignite
That December's day
Reminds me I'm not alone.
In the outskirts of Toronto-
In my Parents home-
My room, my bed - my life's in
The basement
its there; I cry.
Jan 20, 2024
Jan 20, 2024 at 2:38 AM UTC
Brothers by bloodshed.
Family in truth.
With chains forged of trauma and war,
the knowledge of pain binds us in our loyalty.
Buried scars left unseen
Covered by smiles woven by unhealed wounds and broken souls.
Hollowed by the duty that compels us to hide,
We seek solitude when we should seek friendship -
because our training has molded sacrifice into our very flesh.
As we consider the wisdom to fight
and conjure the courage to keep breathing,
Your peace is our only consolation.
Our memories of you become our armor -
shielding us from the demons that brought you to your knees.
We wage this never ending war as one.
We stand with you knowing
That you did not lose this battle.
We fight on in your name
because, broken or not,
Our brothers never fight alone.
- Kymie
28 OCT 2020
Oct 31, 2020
Oct 31, 2020 at 1:31 PM UTC
Sometimes,
all that's left of a friend is the wallet they bought you for your birthday, in the bittersweet smile that appears on your face when you remember that moment.
Sometimes,
they are only in the stories you tell. Their name escapes your lips before you even realize they were there.
Sometimes,
they are in the little moments of regret.
The dull pain between so very few heartbeats before they're gone again.
Sometimes,
they are in shelves of shops,
in "they would like it" thoughts before you realize you can't even remember the last time you've met.
Sometimes,
they are in the moments when you can.
But now they only exist in old photobooks, in fading memories.
In dreams, their faces side by side complete strangers.
They are everywhere.
But really, they are nowhere.
Mar 19, 2020
Mar 19, 2020 at 8:09 PM UTC
You get feelings from a couple nights in the bed. It was you that forced the situation on me from throwing me down and giving head
Instead of a night of cuddling with a couple shots. You where the one that started kissing me all over on till you found my spot.
We can say accidents happen but you came back for more. Intesity grew as we made our way from the bed couch shower and floor
Now you feel used because I dnt want relations feeling as though we are in war your in your battle stations
Steady throwing shots at me but it's all good for now I'm not shooting back I'll just hold my ground
In the end it was all a nut you just wanted **** in your guts you you opened your legs quick to me so who is the ****
Ayy I'm all good thought you play the game and I guess some times this is how it goes you have to take it for what it is nights with the lows
Got to bust a couple mean nuts but lost a friend in the prosses I hope we can me friends again but if not I wish you all the best
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC