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#noctrawrites
In every letter I wrote, in every morning I still made it through, in every star I stared at for too long, I loved you there. I meant all of it. No exaggeration. No perfect words to fill the quiet air. Whatever I have left in me has been given to you. And I don’t think time is enough for this. Not even close. If eternity is real, it still wouldn’t be long enough to finish what I feel.
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May 12
May 12, 2026 at 2:40 PM UTC
Not Even Eternity
I forced doors that would not open called it love because it hurt Hands reaching out for me felt too easy so I chose distance and named it desire I have mistaken longing for meaning confused silence for depth Maybe love is not the one I chase exhausted but the one that stays even when I stop running And maybe first I have to become someone who can even hold it when it arrives, it will be worth it.
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May 12
May 12, 2026 at 12:21 AM UTC
Hold It
It starts with doing things without them. Memory still eats away at the room. New faces who barely know my name don’t erase anything. The body keeps score. I still feel it— that sunken drop in my stomach when I see your friends. A car that looks like yours still pulls my mind somewhere else. But it doesn’t take me all the way anymore. I notice it… and I keep moving. Memories still show up, but they don’t stay like they used to. I’m learning... how to live in the after without falling back into the before.
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May 12
May 12, 2026 at 12:17 AM UTC
I still feel it
Still Here: I don’t owe anyone an explanation Not for my fake smile, not for my silence, not for the nights I can’t find sleep People look at me and think they know But they don’t feel the noise in here The looping thoughts, the heaviness that drags me under The ache I’ve carried longer than I can remember Being alive hurts It’s not about surviving, it’s about feeling everything too much The grief that clings, the joy that slips away too fast Sometimes I wonder if I’m stitched together by all the things I’ve lost If that’s all healing really is Learning to walk with holes where pieces used to be I get tired of pretending Tired of acting like I’m not cracked, like I’ve figured it out Because I haven’t Some days just getting out of bed feels like a war no one sees And I want to scream that existing shouldn’t be this hard But then the quiet comes and I remember if it hurts this much, it means I’m still here It means I still care Healing isn’t clean It’s bleeding into my own hands and still choosing to keep going It’s sitting in the dark and waiting for a reason And maybe that reason is that the sun always comes up Whether I want it to or not I don’t need anyone to name me I don’t need them to understand This is my life, messy, scarred, and unfinished But it’s mine And if that’s what it means to be alive Then I will take it and embrace it Even with the grief Even with the ache Even with all of it -Jacob Malone
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May 12
May 12, 2026 at 12:12 AM UTC
Still Here