#mixedsignals
i feel like u like me
u say u love me
but then u disappear for hours on end
what is ur deal
i get no explanation
but then i do and it’s supposed to be ok?
don’t get me wrong i like u too
or at least i think do?
but now days people don’t date because they love each other
they love each other cause they date
we care for others and give each other space
but if we care to much then give to much space
then this relationship isn’t healthy
so we agree
correct me if i’m wrong
but in this society we live in
everything is so contradictory
and what ur doing isn’t matching up
and these dots rnt connecting
yet they r
they’re connecting but i’m to ashamed to admit
i’m to naive to let myself believe
i see these dots connecting
these lines forming bit by bit
and i tried writing in expo
but every time i try and fix
u say u listen and suddenly
i’m holding a sharpie and this drawing is getting bigger
cause u don’t listen
u pretend
i
dont
get
u
u say u love me
u say u miss me
ur all over me
a permanent tattoo on my face cause of u
i wear ur initial around my neck
is that all u want of me?
no i guess i’m js dramatic
it’s js my past i’m sorry i’ll lapse to keep reciting
but i can’t
i have to much on my ******* mind
i get that i can be dramatic
i get that i can be high maintenance
but i’ve been told that what i’ve been wanting is nothing but the bare minimum
so stop
i don’t want anymore lame excuses
because my heart can’t take it
my head keeps spinning
and my knees keep weakening
so hurry up
do something
before u really
lose
me
Mar 28
Mar 28, 2026 at 10:51 AM UTC
I am InkWept—
God of Endings.
I exist where songs stop breathing,
where applause dies mid-echo,
where stars cut to silence
without asking if anyone is ready.
I was not cruel.
I was precise.
I governed in 4/4 finality,
clean cutoffs,
perfect releases,
every conclusion landing exactly where it should.
Mortals feared me because I never lingered.
Mortals trusted me because I never lied.
Then I met a human.
She was not divine.
She was not prophecy.
She was a woman who laughed off-beat,
who loved loudly,
who believed beginnings were worth the risk.
Her name was Gethsemane.
She moved through life in 3/4 hope,
a waltz of warmth and unanswered futures,
stepping forward even when the ground was unsure.
Where I measured endings,
she measured possibility.
I loved her the way gods are warned not to—
without balance,
without distance,
without a score to hide behind.
I tried to protect her.
I bent time.
I wrote a sigil—
a symbol meant to preserve, not transform—
etched in 7/8 devotion,
a fractured meter made of fear and care,
my power pressed too close to a mortal heart.
I did not mean to change her.
But love does not obey intent.
The moment broke open.
The key modulated.
The universe miscounted.
She did not die.
She did not vanish.
She became Songwept—
Goddess of Beginnings,
First Note,
the breath before music dares to exist.
Where I end things,
she starts them.
Where I close the door,
she teaches it how to open.
The sigil remembers what I did.
Not as punishment—
as truth.
Its shape is not a weapon.
It is a tuning fork struck too hard by feeling.
Its curve is not violence.
It is the arc of my hands realizing too late
that holding is not the same as saving.
The ink glows red because it was written in restraint failing.
Because love burned through precision.
Because some mistakes are holy.
I do not command the sigil.
She does.
When Songwept traces it—
not with blood,
not with sacrifice,
but with intention—
the silence between worlds listens.
I do not rise as a ruler.
I return as harmony.
I am not summoned.
I am answered.
Understand this, if you are human:
Endings are not meant to erase you.
They exist so your beginnings mean something.
I still ache for her—
not in possession,
not in regret,
but in 5/8 longing,
the uneven rhythm of a god learning
that love is not resolution.
It is modulation.
And even now,
across every movement of eternity,
across orchestral silence and deathcore thunder,
across starlight and unsounded rests—
I am the last note
that learned too late
why the first one mattered.
Jan 18
Jan 18, 2026 at 8:08 AM UTC
I liked you long before I realized
that wanting someone like you feels like walking on broken glass—
and no matter how careful I am,
my heart still shatters under your weight.
You once liked me too.
You said it softly, like an afterthought,
like I was some lost coin in your pocket
you weren’t sure you even wanted.
And then—of course—those feelings disappeared.
Quickly. Easily.
Like a door slammed in my face before I could ask why.
And yet you still flirt.
You lean close, smirk like you’ve got secrets,
touch my attention with sparks that burn
and then yank them away before the flame even starts.
Do you do it on purpose?
Or are you just careless,
tossing hearts like they’re cheap paper?
I don’t know what to do with this—
your half-lit signals, your “maybes,” your almosts,
your twisted little games that play havoc in my chest
every time you look at me
like you might feel something—
if only for a fleeting, meaningless second.
Because I like you.
God, I like you, and it’s stupid,
and I hate that it hurts,
because my heart isn’t soft, it’s battle-scarred,
and it bleeds all over people like you.
I’ve been broken before—
trusted and betrayed,
cheated on like loyalty was trash,
manipulated like I was a puzzle to be solved.
And every flicker of your smile
sends that old ache screaming back,
reminding me how careless people hurt those who care.
You don’t intend to hurt me, sure.
But that uncertainty, that teasing,
that dragging me along while you pull away—
it cuts sharper than any knife.
Small, delicate lines across the soft parts of me—
my hope, my longing, my trust—
you’re destroying it all
and calling it nothing.
I wish I could stand here, indifferent,
pretend your mixed signals are harmless.
But the truth?
I care.
And caring hurts.
And I’m furious about it.
I’m done pretending I can learn what love is supposed to feel like
from someone who speaks in riddles and leaves scars.
Maybe someday I’ll find someone
who doesn’t toy with hearts for fun,
who doesn’t leave people guessing,
who knows how to hold a heart without breaking it.
But not you.
Not now.
Not ever.
So I write you into poems,
not because I love you,
but because I’m angry.
Angry at your half-lit hope,
angry at your careless teasing,
angry that I can’t make you care
the way I do.
And maybe that’s all this is:
a furious, bleeding hope
and a girl who’s had enough
of a world that’s never loved her right
Nov 19, 2025
Nov 19, 2025 at 5:46 PM UTC
do they care?
of course they do
do they act like they care?
... mostly
does it feel like they care?
not really
Dec 26, 2024
Dec 26, 2024 at 9:24 PM UTC
You kept sending me mixed signals
A week ago, you were telling me you miss me
Now you're saying you wanna call it quits
Remember when you joked about being obsessed with me lately?
I so badly wanted to know what changed
between you being sober and after a bottle of gin
Feb 8, 2022
Feb 8, 2022 at 9:45 PM UTC
the journey commences,
both here we begin.
assured in our senses,
content in our sins.
suddenly you grow cold,
our horizons freeze.
this life we planned to mould,
you neglect with ease.
i escape this dream, everything turns bright.
the roads feel calmer, we're lost in the night,
'til we gently approach a traffic light.
the lights glare green, as you grow keen.
the lights trigger amber, you erupt with anger.
the lights turn red, our love turns
dead.
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 7:07 PM UTC
I know I might be the one
I just wanna give you some fun
A chance to have it all
Before we part in fall
So let's give it a whirl
Make you a happy girl
So much I've never known
Never experienced this on my own
So, stop leading me on
If the chance I had is gone
You send such mixed vibes
Should I send silence or send bribes
We're bestfriends, of course, no doubt
But the level is what I wonder about
Are you asking for your hand
Or seeking a friend - high in demand
My desperation is great
I'm scared I'll ***** up our fate
Longing for more than what's meant
'Stead of the friendship on which we're bent
Still look at me the same
And smile when you say my name
I know when that smile hits your face
You're the reason my heart starts to race
In my head I've perfected
And the scenes I've directed
But in real life I struggle
Cause your heart I can't smuggle
So make up your mind now or tomorrow
End my self doubt, end my self sorrow
All I ask is you give me a chance
So come this time, in your heart so we can dance.
Mar 15, 2020
Mar 15, 2020 at 12:42 PM UTC
don’t know what you call this,
it’s labeled a whatever thing.
you’re leading me,
to inconsistency.
tired of your mystery,
this isn’t suppose to be a puzzle piece,
can’t you see that i’m falling apart without you?
call it emotional dependence,
but if you cared just as you say you do,
you’d prove who and what you are,
instead of eluding to the truth.
burning through these possibilities,
how about you,
light a match, and,
guide us to the direction of nevermeanttobe.
do I have to remind you again?
how to act,
and listen.
just listen,
you make me feel like i’m high above,
the clouds of doubt that fill your mind at the worst of night,
causing me to lose track of time.
when it’s time to go,
we pack our bags,
forget to say goodbye.
if you were truly what i gained,
you wouldn’t mind tiring or lying to me.
i’ll accept it for what it is,
cause you’ll reminisce,
leave me to guess,
then wrap me all up in your head;
not as a present,
but to mark the esssence of having the nerve to speak to me.
i shouldn’t have to open the door,
place the keys on your front lawn,
just to see you move on from me again.
advice runs around my mind,
telling me things that i do not like,
how you like to lick your lips,
to marinate a thousand more lies and excuses,
feeling unashamed and inveterate every time.
shamelessly you make me yours and I make you mine;
oh, i don’t know what to call this.
memories of you and me,
raid through these homemade remedies,
for once and for all, trying to forget you;
for the love of Christ, why do I feel inclined to you?
you’ll call me once,
or maybe twice,
and i’ll pick up,
just to hear you cry, and whine,
about the things you can’t achieve in life.
because this life is like a marathon to you,
don’t race along when you feel rushed,
you’ll just forget to pace yourself.
my innocence is wearing thin,
you’re wearing me all across her chest,
and neck,
tell me you’re numb and can’t go through it again,
don’t feel nothing.
i’ll convince myself that you are here,
that you are here to hear what i feel is true and finally listen.
as the days go by,
i allow time to slip through fingertips,
time after time,
you make me out to be the biggest fool.
when i brag about you to them,
they suggest i don’t get too fond of you,
nevertheless, i’ll drift and float to dizziness;
disregard the past conversation,
while actively pursuing to revitalize the old one again.
these perpexlexing parts are hard to find,
i look around, note one to none,
and none to suffice;
there it goes, so i, lose track of you.
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 9:48 PM UTC
"she loves me, she loves me not."
those six words rang on my eardrums like alarum bells
reminding me in every beat my heart makes.
they swam through my throat and into my chest; knocking on my
rib cage telling my heart not to fly whenever she says hi.
doubt comes barging on my door like an unwanted guest.
reminding me that in every moment, every gesture she makes are a product
of
mixed signals.
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 5:30 AM UTC
e·mo·ji
ēˈmōjē
noun
a small digital image or icon used to express an idea, emotion, etc., in electronic communication.
Emojis......
The first I saw one,
You had thanked me for a good deed.
Emojis.....
The second time I saw one,
You had thanked me for a favor.
And these emojis,
Theyre so disorienting
Its a first
A boy sending them
Perhaps I am looking in it too much
Maybe Im looking for something, hoping for anything
Maybe its all in my head
Maybe I want
Something that isnt there
A mystery to pester my brain
An assumption
That may pull me down.
These heart-eyed emojis. It pulls at me.
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 6:03 AM UTC
You tell me you don't want a relationship
I'm okay with that
If you don't want a relationship why do you treat me as if we're dating?
You tell me you love me
You tell me good morning, good night
We talk on the phone for hours on a daily basis
You get jealous if another guy flirts with me
You want to meet my parents
But when I ask why you're acting like this you just change the subject
You are giving me mixed signals
Messing with my emotions
You had a dream we were dating and you said you liked it
But you don't want a relationship
What are we doing anymore?
Maybe you're scared I'll hurt you like the other girls?
Maybe I'm just overthinking?
I can't handle these mixed signals...
Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 9:25 AM UTC
**His mixed signals
and
Her insecurities~
The deadly blend,
had the power
to erode
their golden time.**
Sep 10, 2017
Sep 10, 2017 at 10:27 AM UTC
She's in love with a man,
Whose nothing but a myth.
A mystery unsolved,
But she won't stop at this.
The ending is a must,
One that has to be found.
Clinging to an theory,
As thoughts circle around.
She still can't read his mind,
As he send her mixed signs.
Not knowing what he wants,
She reads between the lines.
Aug 4, 2016
Aug 4, 2016 at 11:10 PM UTC
Tik Tok
You're the clock
The one that strikes noon
Begins to make me swoon
But once it's past three,
You get up and leave.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 8:31 PM UTC
He said he didn't want me
But God knows
That he kissed me like I was the last good thing on this ****** Earth
He kissed me like I was about to slip through his fingers
He kissed me like I was dissolving into thin air.
He kissed me so hard
So deep
That I'm having trouble believing that his statement of not wanting me is true.
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 3:00 PM UTC
I give out so many mixed signals
even I can't hope to understand
all the contradictions, though
that doesn't make them any
more intentional. I assure
you that I see exactly
what I am doing
though I'm
powerless
to stop,
because
each
conflicting
word and action
is precisely what I'm
feeling in that moment. So
with each passing day my feelings
seesaw back and forth, and we're just
stuck in the seats, unable to walk away
from the ride in which I have entrapped us.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 11:18 PM UTC
I stare at you and feel the empty air
begging to be filled with
the admirations festering in my lungs
And as thoughts form flavor on
my lips,
I choke them back and **** them
with the smoky cancer
I exhale in a thick white stream
and hope that it could be
enough of a
screen to hide my eyes
and the hole I'm boring
into your face.
I pray that if you
breathe it in,
you can taste the
honeyed intentions
I fill space with common talk
that distracts from the reality in
which real feelings burn quickly
and leave empty an air that you
ignore.
I swallow it like absynthe
as my jaw clenches with
the weight of my masochistic heart.
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 10:45 PM UTC
She is confused about a lot of things
those things include a guy like him
There is this song she always sings
a song that tells her real feelings
He is good at denying
and she's an expert at hiding
Both of them, afraid to confess
but it doesn't make their feelings less
Eye contact is always met
and they say its part of "being friends"
mixed signals are always sent
they both wonder, is this how everything will end?
She's very tired to find a meaning
to every move he is making
He is now thinking, "what is she feeling?"
but all they want, is just a happy ending
-AA
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC