#lowercase
capitalization 6.20.25 (3:43 pm / 15:43)
i used to capitalize
i used to scream on the page
it seems like i used to be unafraid
and now i whisper
what happened to me?
[playing: no tears left to cry by ariana grande]
Jun 22, 2025
Jun 22, 2025 at 4:20 PM UTC
my name
is case sensitive
adriana tamara
is how it’s spelled
sometimes as one word
and sometimes as two
but always as only lowercases
my name
is humbling
as it reminds me
that i am merely
one girl
against the elements
i am merely
one voice
muted by wind
my name
is empowering
she shows me
that my mouth
can never run dry
that my thoughts
can never go dormant
my name
looks small
compared to all of the rest
because i
am small
compared to the world
even in my own perception
i am too little
to know everything
to understand everything
my name
is my teacher
is my guardian
is my keepsake
& when i think i know everything
about poetry, about loving, about people
she humbles me
and i continue to learn
case sensitive
(12.24.2020)
—adrianatamara
Dec 26, 2020
Dec 26, 2020 at 4:52 PM UTC
run...
fly...
jump...
swim through the sky
dreaming of flight
wanting to escape
finding my wings
seamless shapes
limitless reach
stretch above my head
galactic needle
pulling infinite thread
field of pyramids
I'm twenty feet tall
stumbling to find
the end of it all
the house I knew
twisted somehow
and all the rooms
are locked away now
the college campus
that I once roamed
with elevators broken
construction postponed
looking through the floor
glass beneath my shoes
wearing a skirt
afraid of the view
someone I've never met
capturing my heart
sweeping me off my feet
are they real or not?
the roots of any dream
might never be found
but none of them are real
no matter how profound.
Oct 14, 2020
Oct 14, 2020 at 1:47 PM UTC
like a flower in a high place,
i cannot help but gaze upon
the beauty prospering adverse
to callous wind and granite stone;
one day i will watch you fall grace-
fully, petals aflutter, and mourn
the absence your passing creates:
a world less beautiful and rare.
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 10:13 AM UTC
i have built a room made of songs and unspoken words
struck by the moonlight, my secrets lay beneath the ocean waves - asleep and unafraid
the walls are painted with the lightest shade of blue,
for it reminds me how right and genuine love felt like.
the night sky is my ceiling and every star gleams for my welfare
with complete surrender, tears fell from my eyes one last time,
the word 'home' escaped from my mouth
and my heart finally took its rest
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
she never had the courage to speak
and all those years she walked in the same halls
feeling emptier everyday
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 11:07 AM UTC
velvet stains on the crevice of your lips,
and you taste like water, not whisky.
your lucid sky-coloured gaze chase to meet me,
and even in the dark, they're evergreen.
they say that we're made of blue blood,
but all i taste is red, red, red- metallic, like rust,
i can feel my heart pulsing underneath my wrecked lungs,
because here am i, soaked in your stardust.
the room is struck with electricity when you arrive,
ochre colours my cheeks and heat in my skin rise,
like the silver waves, you sweep me in with the tide,
and once again, i'm yours, lovely, you have me stupefied.
when i'm around you, my heart pumps crimson,
and i wear your breath on my neck like a chain of diamonds,
and you look at me, glory behold like i'm your redemption,
like i'm an ultraviolet, phosphorescent burst of magnetism.
(i want you to look at me like that forever).
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 4:30 AM UTC
i have built a garden
full of words that spills relief
just in case i forgot how it feels
to feel something besides pain
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 10:45 PM UTC
of course there was a time before
a time when the night was gentle
the moon perched in the shadowed branches
the stars rustling about in their tiny flickering fullness
like blinking birds
in an instant
everything took flight
i soared with you and
laughed laughed
laughed so hard and sweet
life was long
and happy
we threw bread to those star birds
then when i got home i pulled out
my soft black notebook
it was dusty
but i wrote
and then i cried
and it spilled over the paper
in a rush of quiet ink
i spelled your name out
over and over and
over
with the curves of the letters i bent my body
backwards
eyes glittering
like those little star birds
something followed me through that night
i turned and turned but i could not catch it
and i found that
i couldn't take a breath
so i screamed
the sound was raspy and it was high and it
swung through the rafters
it tiptoed along the windowsill and
buried itself in your eye
where it sang and sang
yes
there was a time before
it is to me now as an echo is
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 12:19 PM UTC
how had i
failed to recognize
her
as she slipped down
the stairs.
i could not speak or
move.
i had dwindled to almost nothing.
i know i tried to say
everything
right from the start.
i know that there are girls far prettier than me and
far prettier than you.
at a certain distance she looks
far and miserable
but walk up
to her and there is
something cosmic and
unhinged.
there is a critical beauty
and there is the Earth and
it has filled with love
like a heart.
Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 1:14 AM UTC
everything i own will age
except for my poems & page.
these words are forever intact
in the crust of the earth.
love a writer
and i promise, you will live forever.
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 3:23 AM UTC
there is a general reason
as to why her name fits her.
whenever you look at her beauty,
all you can mutter is
oh my darling, oh my darling
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 9:07 AM UTC
they said that my collarbones
was a fascinating sight,
my bones looks as if they're dying to escape
like how words fall from my mouth.
so i avoided things that could fill me
and satisfied myself with the feeling of hollow.
maybe the one can effortlessly lift me
as we kiss in the pouring rain
and i would never have to squeeze lemons
into a fabric again.
my bones will form a sharp edge
preventing people from hurting me again
and someday, i will feel safe.
although there would be nights
of scratching my skins and biting my lips
until i can taste again - a sense i havent used in days.
there would be pain from the center
i will cry but they will stay.
because people only likes to touch beautiful & frail things.
the more ethereal you look,
the more they'll handle you with care
and thats the saddest truth i learned.
i will continue to make myself look like a stick
so maybe people will stick with me.
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 5:10 AM UTC
there is a hole in my tooth
but there is bigger one in my soul.
i will lay my head against my pillow again
longing, pleading that every breathing
wouldn't expand the hole within me.
every joke i have to ***** out of me
every laugh i have to hurt my ribs to execute
every smile i have to crack my skin to present
because they are only there when you're happy.
my academics will yell at me for marking it so slow
but how can i listen to the lectures
when the voices inside my head are louder than my teacher?
each moment of my life
i am accompanied with a screaming will to live, asking for its life
and i will realize that i'm the only one who is killing it.
it is difficult to help yourself
when your own murderer is you.
i will hate every moment
when i have to be alone
because alone means silence
and i can hear them more
i tug my hair hoping that with every pulled follicle
will vanish the ghost that lives in me.
it is hard to feel okay with people
when it is programmed in your brain
that every person has their bad side
and you are its trigger.
my world has completely turned black & white
no grey, no hue, nothing in between.
and here comes another day of
right first before left,
closing your stomach before it inflates,
joining the hateful voices in your head
i am my own murderer
and i will not cry until i drown myself in the ocean of my own pain.
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 4:11 AM UTC
and here we are again
on this page of a book called dreams.
as the moon & the city becomes our lightbulb
and the end of your cigarrette burning
like how time burns when we're together.
on our blood are paint produced by love
and we color these streets with the color of romance.
in that moment we understood
why people call life a jigsaw puzzle
because everything is falling into pieces
and here forms the picture we were always trying to build.
we understood why painters
mix different hues of a color to create a new hue of that color
because a hue that's a little bit different
wouldn't fit into this painting we call "right now."
the words and the world molds into one
and turning the page doesn't make sense.
but we cant help but roll the thought
of a burned out cigarrette being thrown to the ground
once it no longer gives warmth & light.
we cant help but lose the passion
and we'll brush a lighter shade of color
because something is missing & we cant seem to find it.
slowly by slowly puzzle pieces will be misplaced
and we wont understand this picture anymore.
one day, we'll push each other away
unbeknownst to you and me
then we'll be similar poles of a magnet
which will drift apart from each other.
i will be pained
and although i'll wish you'll miss me
but i hate seeing you hurt
so i'll just hurt myself with the mere thought that your mouth wont form my name again
and every memory of us that you'll remember
you'll wish to forget
while i am here holding on to every bit of you that i can grasp.
so whenever someone tells you they wont hurt you
or you'll say your love is greater than your intention of pain,
remember that your heart is a muscle the size of your fist.
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 1:52 AM UTC
let's escape the world for a while,
leave all our worries behind,
cause you're the only thing that makes me smile.
we can plan our adventures if we must,
or wander different paths until dusk,
just take my hand and we'll run away,
to a place where we will spend the rest of our days.
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
months ago i left my home
because it was a tragedy.
the place where i never felt alone
starts to feel so crowded and heavy.
so i wrote my lines into your palm
and you took me everywhere you go.
walking to the middle of east & north,
unsure of where we would end up but we knew we currently stand
and that what truly matters, right?
there were times when i would miss my childhood bed
but you offered me your chest
and suddenly i refused to lay down somewhere other than you.
there were times when i would miss
them and their memories
but you make each moment of my past before you
unworthy of reminiscing for the lack of euphoria they hold.
and there would nights where i would miss being okay
because we are constantly moving
city to city in a world where i don't wanna stand in
but you, for just being you, make me glad to be alive.
and the stars hide at night
for they would always be set aside
because i will always favor your eyes.
but there were also nights
where you'd forget to hide the cracks of your sin.
and the light that escapes your broken lines
shines through the dark night, keeping me away from sleep.
there goes your light
shining from your interior
it was so bright as can be,
it blinded me from reality.
you were a hypnotic drug
that commands my feet to follow
you wherever you go.
i gave you my nights & rhymes
and all you gave me is toxic fumes.
you had me the moment your secondhand smoke entered my body
and you marked me the moment your
toxic-laced smoke clouded my air.
your heart and my heart
are now located at the ends of a line.
like intersecting lines,
we were once perfect at one point
but for some reason,
we had drifted from each other.
all i could stare it is the starry night
but i don't like stars,
i don't know where we are
and i don't know where to go
though, i'm glad as hell i wasn't where i used to be.
there are nights where you'll suddenly throw rocks at my window.
the moment you'll lay your head on my shoulders,
it will always feel like home.
you were home
and just like my previous one,
you are a tragedy.
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 9:47 AM UTC
i am not good with words
i was never good at literature
never good at fathoming
my thoughts, cries, and pleads into lines and rhymes
always on the look out
for words that i can never understand
and metaphors that dont match
but i'll use them anyway because i thought they'll look nice.
i was never good at poetry,
always forgetting to water
the flowers on my tongue
so they just wither away
and the soil of my literature
will run dry as the pen on my table.
i was never good at using words
as an outlet of my shriveling thoughts
i
never
knew
when
to
hit
the
enter
key
i was never good at this.
but your ears were always closed
and your eyes were always open,
on the look out for your next lover
so here i am.
a girl with poetry for lips and paint fir blood.
here it is.
my poetry,
in all of its pain & glory.
Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 6:42 AM UTC
who hurt you?
who played with you,
circling along in your own orbit
then slowly drifted away
once it was done collapsing with your body?
you still revolve around the sun.
the sun who's heat cannot even
reach your icy flesh and bones.
yet you still continue to move around it,
like a child circling their mother asking for something
like a dog barking continuously for attention.
the world behind you
is too small and weak to catch you when you fall
and the world in front of you
has its own personal fence of asteroids
preventing you from leaning on it's shoulders.
and you'll forever remain cold.
only touched by stones who'll do
nothing but carve scars into your crust.
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 9:35 PM UTC
how kind is the planet
that it continues to
rotate around its orbit,
giving us both warm and cold
despite the bombs we explode
in its scalp?
how kind is the planet
that it continues to sprout
leaves and fruits
to fulfill our empty, needing stomachs
yet we cut of its green hair
and cover the brown & green with grey?
how kind is the planet
that it continues to force away
humongous space rocks from colliding with us
regardless of the hatred
that walks around it's crust?
one day the planet will get so tired
of pushing space rocks
like how tired we get from
pushing our own kind away
and one day, our memories
will turn to dust that will
float in the deep, unmeasurable universe.
but the ashes of earth
will find it's way back into our bones.
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 8:13 AM UTC
one day the world
will forget our names,
our memories will be
wiped away from the surface of the earth
and the things we used to own
will turn to ashes with us.
then, we'll be buried underground.
we will become one with the earth
and our flesh will linger through
the wildflowers and sprout again above our coffins
and we'll say our last words to the wind.
the temples that were made for us
will turn into an artifact,
a museum of what we were
and what we could have been.
one day, the last star will collapse
and the universe will be inhabitable.
but we will linger around the
dark and black void that we
once called home.
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 7:08 AM UTC
you were the little rain,
and i was the hurricane,
everybody knew you were meant to fix something,
and i was meant to destroy everything.
you are the definition of lightness,
while i was the meaning of darkness.
your body is the realm of all the lost things that are found,
while mine was the other way around.
to sum things up,
we were the polar opposites.
the east and the west,
the tame and the wild,
the day and the night.
when i was young,
people would say that someday,
someone will knock on your door and when you take a look at it,
you will not recognize who the person is,
your mind will be blasting with the questions,
"who are you?", "what are you doing here?"
and maybe you would even tell the person to get out.
but the person will leave something in front of your door,
a thing that you perhaps wanted or despised,
a thing that even the closest people in your life can give,
but instead, this time,
a stranger will.
it's called the unexpected.
you came knocking on my door one day,
thinking you can settle things with the hurricane,
at first i just laughed and said,
"nobody can handle the hurricane."
however after that i never thought a little rain
would have so much effect on me.
that was when i realised you are also the thing
that you left in front of my door.
you are the unexpected.
and by means of unexpected,
you never did anything i expected you to do.
you didn't give me mix tapes of the songs that remind you of me
but my favourite songs are nothing compared to your voice,
one simple "hello" of you will make me stop listening to my playlist.
you didn't take me to art museums
and admire the wonderful paintings with my presence
but you made me feel like a living masterpiece every single day.
when i told you i love art,
you asked why don't i love myself.
you do not connect me to a rose,
or to a smoke,
you do not make metaphors for me
and you do not love poems as much as i do
but your words have the power to hit me more than any other poets could
and i am just a coward to not admit it.
you didn't call me at 11 pm to ask
if i wanted to go see the stars,
like i've always dreamed of.
but just by staring at you,
i can see the stars, the milky way, even the whole universe,
and i knew that moment
that there is no need for stargazing in the middle of the night
when i can look at you all the time.
you didn't enjoy my favourite shows,
you couldn't take it because of how much blood was shown in it,
you hated blood,
and i saw beauty in it.
you didn't think raisins taste good
when in fact they were my favourite food
(actually, you even told me they taste bad.)
and you didn't think that the wolf and the moon were in love,
when that was my favourite love story of all time.
this is probably a poem about
our disparity,
our contrast,
and our dissimilarities.
but you did something that i never expected you to do,
you did the unexpected.
you found the light in me
no matter how dark it might be.
my body was no longer the realm of lost things,
because you've done everything to find them.
and i was no longer the hurricane who is known
to destroy everything,
because for some reasons i couldn't destroy you,
you were the exception.
despite of all the things i wanted you to do that you never did,
the mix tapes,
the museum dates,
the appreciation of poetry,
the stargazing.
you did something that took my breath away,
something that i couldn't ask for more,
something that was unexpected.
you loved me,
and that was enough,
that was more than enough.
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 5:42 AM UTC
he didnt know
what it cost me
to say that to him
he took everything
but i think he gave some
in return
hes all i ever wanted
but i know i will never be
what he wants
my eyes stop at the crinkle
that is him
but his eyes graze over the tear
that is me
so together we pass the paper
that could be us
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 6:28 PM UTC
the awkward part is
sleeping without your breathing leaves me lost in the dark.
close to weeping with slient heaving i shut my eyes hard.
the opposite of feeling, barely seeing i'm dependant on you.
no longer solitary, you're one with them and maybe,
thats the awkward part.
k.g.
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC