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#neglected
I prayed to the god I don't believe in again Please, I said Just stop me from needing a friend Help me believe or at least pretend That being alone was the better end That what I did, I did for them But I had hoped they would see and maybe not let me leave tell me I was important to the family but in the end they packed my bags for me asked me for my key got new locks and hid the door so I couldn't come back anymore
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Dec 29, 2025
Dec 29, 2025 at 1:24 PM UTC
the nest
I am the draft in the hallway, the door that never shuts quite right. You step inside, but the warmth slips away— I cannot hold it. I paint the walls in vibrant hues, yet when I turn, the colors are already fading, peeling into cracks I can never seal. I fill the rooms with furniture, trying to make this place ours, but I drape them in white sheets, leaving them to gather dust. You open the windows wide, and I pull the curtains closed. You knock at the door, and I cannot always let you in. And sometimes I fear I’ve trapped us in this hollow place, when you deserve a home and not these half-lived walls between here and nowhere. I wonder if one day you’ll walk these empty halls and decide not to return because I never learned how to make a house a home.
0
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 7:53 PM UTC
Vacant
The dormitory never sleeps. Lights hum like insects, shadows twitch across the floor, and every night I remember, this is not where I am visiting. This is where I live. This is where I am kept. The other girls go home. They vanish into weekends, into kitchens filled with noises and smell and warmth. They complain about parents, about rules, about being seen too much. I would give anything to be seen too much. Instead, I return to my bed, my small metal drawer of belongings, my ceiling with its web of cracks. It stares down at me every night, silent, unchanging, a reminder that nothing waits beyond these walls. My parents are smoke now. They pass through my thoughts like strangers. Their voices are static, distant, sometimes I wonder if they’ve already forgotten me. Maybe I was too easy to let go. Maybe I was never worth holding onto. I don’t plan for the future. The future is a locked door.   The future is another hallway that leads back here. I have stopped imagining anything else. Sometimes, in the quietest hours, a thought flickers, a cruel kind of hope: _one day I’ll grow wings._ But even as it comes, I know it isn’t true. Even birds fall. Even birds are crushed beneath tires on roads no one bothers to cross. So I fold myself smaller each night, make myself a shadow so no one will notice how much I’m missing. I practice the art of disappearing, learning to dissolve into silence, to be overlooked, to vanish without the world ever pausing to ask why. And if I write it down, it isn’t for saving. It’s proof I was here, that once there was a girl in this building who waited, and waited, and was never collected.
0
Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 7:41 AM UTC
Still Waiting
The dormitory never sleeps. Lights hum like insects, shadows twitch across the floor, and every night I remember, this is not where I am visiting. This is where I live. This is where I am kept. The other girls go home. They vanish into weekends, into kitchens filled with noises and smell and warmth. They complain about parents, about rules, about being seen too much. I would give anything to be seen too much. Instead, I return to my bed, my small metal drawer of belongings, my ceiling with its web of cracks. It stares down at me every night, silent, unchanging, a reminder that nothing waits beyond these walls. My parents are smoke now. They pass through my thoughts like strangers. Their voices are static, distant, sometimes I wonder if they’ve already forgotten me. Maybe I was too easy to let go. Maybe I was never worth holding onto. I don’t plan for the future. The future is a locked door.   The future is another hallway that leads back here. I have stopped imagining anything else. Sometimes, in the quietest hours, a thought flickers, a cruel kind of hope: _one day I’ll grow wings._ But even as it comes, I know it isn’t true. Even birds fall. Even birds are crushed beneath tires on roads no one bothers to cross. So I fold myself smaller each night, make myself a shadow so no one will notice how much I’m missing. I practice the art of disappearing, learning to dissolve into silence, to be overlooked, to vanish without the world ever pausing to ask why. And if I write it down, it isn’t for saving. It’s proof I was here, that once there was a girl in this building who waited, and waited, and was never collected.
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62
I screamed in heavy rainfall, hoped they would hear me. Perhaps the thunder was too loud— or maybe... Their ears were filled with rainwater. I wept in a silent room, hoped they would wipe my tears. Perhaps I didn’t weep loud enough— or maybe... They built walls where windows should have been.
0
Jul 31, 2025
Jul 31, 2025 at 8:05 AM UTC
Maybe...
They said, "Be mature, you're our only daughter,   We have expectations, don't drift any farther."   Not knowing how they crushed each hope she had,   And left her heart empty, forever sad.   They told her to act like a child, to play,   But when could she? She was forced to obey.   Left alone in a house that was dark and cold,   She grew strong, but her heart turned old.   They said, "You're tough, don't cry over pain,   These little scratches are nothing to explain."   Not seeing she'd grow, hurting deep inside,   Where pain was a secret, she could never hide.   She thought it was fine, that it was okay,   She still does it now, though it hurts every day.   Punished for things that she'd never done,   Now she repeats it when the day is done.   She was invincible, or so they believed,   But deep down, she was neglected, deceived.   Never loved, just a little girl.
0
Feb 24, 2025
Feb 24, 2025 at 9:42 AM UTC
Little girl 2.0
"They said to be mature, you're the only daughter we have expectations. Not knowing how they killed every little expectations from herself. They said to act like a kid but when? when did she ever got a chance? she was left alone, in a shady home where she was grown as a backbone of a family where she was never treated like a part of. They said you're a tough kid why cry? on these little scratches Not knowing she would grow up hurting herself' as it didn't matter, nor did it hurt. She thought it was ok to do so She still do. She was punished for things she didn't even do now she does the same in a quiet dark room. She was invincible. She was neglected.     She was never loved.         She was just a little girl.
0
Nov 26, 2024
Nov 26, 2024 at 1:19 PM UTC
Little Girl
When I speak Nobody hears my voice But when I scream I am a monster 'cause I created a noise
0
Sep 14, 2022
Sep 14, 2022 at 12:52 AM UTC
Heard
These roaming thoughts Keep crashing in my head Forcing me to remember How lonely it felt To be with you How you pushed me aside To love on another. I asked, Wondered, Begged For a future with you. But it seems that I’m not worthy Of such hope. My loneliness will consume My fleeting happiness I will always feel neglected
0
Sep 12, 2022
Sep 12, 2022 at 10:41 PM UTC
Neglected
You hide the truth. Everything you say to me feels like glue. I get stuck in it and don't know what to do... I always end up finding out the truth, just not from you.
0
Jul 21, 2021
Jul 21, 2021 at 8:26 AM UTC
You lie to me
the forgotten child is nearing the end of their adolescence. these thoughts have swam inside them for a decade rumbling, roaring, ramming against their barricade it was not me that was forgotten, but the naïve child inside me i've spent a decade reserving my right to tell the awaited rescuer that the child and i prefer to stay at our safe haven. i am a body of 22, but a mind of 12 naïve 12 turned pitiful, pessimistic 14 turned people-pleaser 17 turned naive 18 turned pitiful, pessimistic 20 turned please just come back, why did you never come back i'll never stop wondering why i had to create my own safe haven i've spent a decade reserving my right to turn away my wrongdoer it's silly of me to think that you returning makes you a rescuer nature versus nurture, a baby bird kicked from the comfy nest a decade-long vacation from being a parent, abandoned until i grew the forgotten child is nearing the end of their adolescence.
0
Jun 30, 2021
Jun 30, 2021 at 1:05 AM UTC
musings of a waif
A cold abrasion Numbing as quickly As the words outpouring Making raw a mind Knowing no different Than to accept And try to live with The disappointment Of oneself. Havoc raining as a wave Twice as tall Allowing no escape But to watch As the trauma unfolds And the words Spoken out of hate Branded on my brain As a reminder Of being unworthy. A blank canvas Unknowing To the wide staring eyes Bruised beneath The blank canvas veil That is the shell Of skin, More alien on this body The more photo albums A mind fills with memories. Could I really be The monster Of which She speaks? Deleting Is the only option To escape the toil Of counting fingers And reading Truths and falsehoods To conclude Innocence or guilt In my adolescence. Silence is a grave That one finds comfort in When these walls Are so used to ringing ears From the storm That only lasts seconds But lingers In the gilded silence As the mind speaks Above the bloodflow When all one can do Is plug ears With fingertips In order to live with oneself Retaliation lies beneath The bleeding Now only visible If friends are let close To see As the heart Tears threads That have been sewn To restrict emotion Loosening the seal On the demon cradled within A furnace Are thrown the old photo albums But in turn are the recents As a block in the mind Has been created To forget Because nothing is worth remembering During a childhood Of only knowing The names And the fear Of what you are, And after such a block has been made Remembrance Is no longer A thread Sewn in To allow an escape.
0
Feb 26, 2021
Feb 26, 2021 at 9:44 PM UTC
Blank Canvas Veil
A cold abrasion Numbing as quickly As the words outpouring Making raw a mind Knowing no different Than to accept And try to live with The disappointment Of oneself. Havoc raining as a wave Twice as tall Allowing no escape But to watch As the trauma unfolds And the words Spoken out of hate Branded on my brain As a reminder Of being unworthy. A blank canvas Unknowing To the wide staring eyes Bruised beneath The blank canvas veil That is the shell Of skin, More alien on this body The more photo albums A mind fills with memories. Could I really be The monster Of which She speaks? Deleting Is the only option To escape the toil Of counting fingers And reading Truths and falsehoods To conclude Innocence or guilt In my adolescence. Silence is a grave That one finds comfort in When these walls Are so used to ringing ears From the storm That only lasts seconds But lingers In the gilded silence As the mind speaks Above the bloodflow When all one can do Is plug ears With fingertips In order to live with oneself Retaliation lies beneath The bleeding Now only visible If friends are let close To see As the heart Tears threads That have been sewn To restrict emotion Loosening the seal On the demon cradled within A furnace Are thrown the old photo albums But in turn are the recents As a block in the mind Has been created To forget Because nothing is worth remembering During a childhood Of only knowing The names And the fear Of what you are, And after such a block has been made Remembrance Is no longer A thread Sewn in To allow an escape.
Continue reading...
85
I listen to the endless cries of cats at night Lonely and helpless, Abandoned and forgotten Living in a narrow, deserted alleyway. I’ve left cans of food for them, But that’s not what they want They want love To feel protected and sheltered By the sheer warmth of compassion Some may want to be reunited with their mothers Or from their owners’. No matter how many times these poor animals were left out in the cold Or met with the scorching rays of the sun We’ve neglected them to the point where Anything better than what they have right now will suffice. The next time I hear their cries I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt Part of me wants to take every one of them out of their miserable lives But some of these cats had lives Some of us overlooked that Walked right pass a cat that belonged to someone who didn’t want them anymore Threw them out like the piles of trash In the alleyway.
0
Feb 4, 2021
Feb 4, 2021 at 7:47 PM UTC
in the alleyway
All I ever get is your ashes: The macaroni dinner you burned, The last part of your jokes, The short end of your smokes, And the last ones will be in your urn.
0
Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 9:18 PM UTC
Your Ashes
ℜ𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪𝔰 𝔄 𝔤𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔟 𝔒𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔬𝔪 𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔣 𝔒𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔢 ℑ𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔴𝔢 𝔰𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔢'𝔡 𝔡𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔨𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 ℭ𝔶𝔫𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫
0
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 12:30 AM UTC
Rotten fruit
To sing to a void of silence, eating away at the sound I make, Hoping something reacts and makes a sound. I realized the pattern before me. A sea of silence A space of eyes Alone, in this place Singing my heart aloud... But then i begin to wonder; why? When it's only me in the end. Am I crazy to continue to share my emotions with the eyes Although they don't provide me the company I desire Am I singing to feel sane Or is it because I'm starting to feel tired Cold, descending into the abyss of depravity I'm not really okay I just want to be held But once again It's only me...singing alone In a deep silence of eyes Forever trapped in a pattern that won't decay
0
Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 8:43 AM UTC
Poem: Am I Alone...¿
Alone on a chilly night in September Lost emotions still vividly remember Sands of time erase happier days Wondering why so little good stays When I don't hear from you I stress Inner storm only tamed by your caress The weather lately has taken a turn For the cold my heart holds will always return Where my footprints fade and yours begin Moments eternity seems suspended in With another call straight to voicemail goes Saltwater teardrops I fight like foes At war with my own weakness and doubt Puzzles and riddles I can't figure out Shadows overtake our souls with shame Empty and vacant Demons steal our names When you disappear I am left neglected To forgive you comes easier than expected The tide pulls you out and washes back ashore Each time I wonder what you even leave me for?
0
Sep 15, 2020
Sep 15, 2020 at 9:13 PM UTC
Tide And True
fireflies wild flowers growing in the rough let them grow where they go thriving sure enough
0
Jun 1, 2020
Jun 1, 2020 at 2:41 PM UTC
shooting range
You wonder Where you stand in his life You wonder what he wants Baby girl You think he wants to love you But don't be foolish For all he want Is to **** you Look at you You're irresistible You think he wants you for you But he clearly just wants to use you It's quarantine Everyone is insane from the lack of *** You were naive to think he wanted you He doesn't even care about you He pretend to Just so he could get in your pants Just remember No guy in this world will want you All of them just wants to **** you
0
May 23, 2020
May 23, 2020 at 12:53 PM UTC
What does he want?
You want to survive, you want to fight you need to prove that you can get through the night but after so many years of being a scapegoat you realize that no matter what, you're still stuck on the same boat All you wanna do is tell them what they did wrong yet they just keep singing their ignorance song you don't even care if you become successful and rich as long as you find a wonderful wife, and have beautiful kids Yet after all this time you realize you're on your own left behind, heartbroken, with an enormous l̶o̶a̶n̶ debt.. you can keep on moving, keep on running but even so the problems will always be coming Still you gotta keep on fighting, even after so long because the good things comes only to those who stay strong for after all this time, after all this pain you gotta prove that you can do it, and that it wasn't all in vain
0
Apr 28, 2020
Apr 28, 2020 at 9:50 AM UTC
Endurance is key
I wish I were to be a book, Left to be unopened. Nobody reads books anymore. May the dust blanket me I'll try to not let it hinder me. For I know what wonderful words lie underneath. Because nobody reads books anymore, It's just me.
0
Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 1:38 PM UTC
Unopened
If feeling lonely Lost, neglected, hurt, or sad Things will get better
0
Feb 19, 2020
Feb 19, 2020 at 6:53 AM UTC
To Whom It May Concern (Haiku)