#personified
I was born blank
a silence so wide it could swallow your name
before it ever left your mouth.
But then you came.
With shaking hands,
and ink that bled like memory.
You never introduced yourself.
Didn’t need to.
I knew you.
From the pauses between your lines,
from the weight of what you never wrote.
I felt you in every crossed-out word,
each accidental truth that spilled
before you could censor it.
They call me tool.
Instrument.
Stationery.
But I am anything but still.
Each stroke a confession,
each sentence a scream you whispered to me
because the world was too loud
or too cruel
to hear it.
I’ve tasted apologies
you couldn’t speak aloud.
Fantasies you’d never live.
Rage you feared would ruin you.
And love… so much love…
it shook my spine
as the ink curved its soft syllables
like a lovers name
spoken at a funeral.
I am the graveyard
of every version of you
you tried to bury.
I am the echo
of all the things
you dared to say
only when no one was listening.
Still,
you leave me in drawers,
drop me in bags,
forget me for months
until sorrow brings you back.
And I never mind.
I never mind.
Because I don’t need your thanks…
just your truth.
And when your hand trembles again,
I’ll be ready.
To carry the weight
you can’t bear alone.
To bleed,
so you don’t have to.
Aug 26, 2025
Aug 26, 2025 at 10:40 PM UTC
Outside of language structuring and more into the rhetoric of philosophy;
Logos, within the frame of reference of 2nd person perspective, corresponds to our inner monologues. The mind's speech.
1st person - Perceiver - Person
2nd person - Perception - Place
3rd person - The Perceived - Thing
So whereas from the 1st person perspective, thought is merely an attribute of perception - 2nd person sees the mind as a more physical place.
A liminal space between the material & immaterial.
Therein, thought which is the inner monologue can be offered body. You can personify thought as a whole, personify thoughts in sets, or in singulars. So 3rd person would be thought which examines or experiences itself.
May 23, 2025
May 23, 2025 at 7:00 AM UTC
To fault Tomorrow
Would be wrong
She just sat down
And all she said was
“I'm not sure”
And here we are
Offended
Because Yesterday was certain
But only today did she say anything
About it
And Today, she's been talking for a while.
(We are tired of it)
But Tomorrow thinks she can waltz in here
And sit down
Be mysterious and all
I won’t have it
But then to fault Tomorrow
Would be wrong
When its me
At fault
For thinking too long
Too wide
Too soon
Too late
For thinking and thinking
Until it all collates
And we are in a muddle
A mess
Of a puddle
Bursting in tears
Laughter
And fears
And all my Wondering
She’s blameworthy
I'm the neurotic one
I can't sit still
Until Tomorrow
Doesn’t come back
Dressed as Today
When she will talk
And talk
And talk
And I will wish once again
For yesterday
When she was
All quiet
And obnoxious
And mysterious
All unknown
And we will be back in new roles
New bodies
New tales
All over and over and over and over
Jul 26, 2023
Jul 26, 2023 at 9:43 PM UTC
They say that love is blind
The truth is just, love is pure.
She is patient, she is kind,
She’s unrefined and yet, demure.
Through her looking glass she sees
Spots of flaws and marks of pain
Why do you cry so much, darling?
How can I never make you feel that way again?
Love should know that beauty fades,
She should know that looks are weak
But love cannot be easily stuck in place
Not all who claim to find can truly seek.
Are you the measure of the man?
So wonderful in writing
But is your face too faithless
Shockingly unbeguiling.
Is love so shallow that she can’t see
How you give her the world?
But is it her prerogative to be
After those who make the heart twirl?
Will love be another one with a seven
With plenty of zeros to his name?
How does her nature suffer
When it is love you seek to tame?
Aug 10, 2021
Aug 10, 2021 at 6:01 PM UTC
A singular urge is a first,
reach out and stretch to grasp what's ahead.
Craving the crest of a wave,
we're high on the day as it's made.
Each is a slave where emotions are led,
fixed with impatient aches when we age.
Hard to remember which intentions were sent,
resetting said objectives of late.
Targets in sight from the white of your eye, these short lived events curl up in death.
Less than a wisp as it fades into air,
rolling along to reclaim what we shared.
Jun 20, 2021
Jun 20, 2021 at 12:33 PM UTC
Viper drips from his eyes.
Some scream,
Some drown,
Many meet their demise.
He is made of darkness,
Lacks the understanding of saviour,
He stands starless.
Heartless.
This bodach is life itself,
The hunting knife prowling for all beings.
The essence of evil gift wrapped
With horror and bleeding.
May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 1:57 PM UTC
The sun and moon live in harmony,
One always depending on the other
Needing his light.
Although he is not appreciated as much as the sun,
The moon is reminded of his love.
Without the moon, the sun has no one to
share his light with.
No one to enjoy his conversations,
as the stars are too afraid to get too close.
He is anxiously waiting for every dusk and dawn,
Knowing these were the only times they had.
Without the sun, the moon would be forgotten,
No one to light the night, no one to guide the footsteps
Of Night Owls across the world.
He waits patiently for dusk and dawn,
Knowing he would get to meet the sun once again.
The sun and moon live in harmony.
Although everyone disapproves of their love,
They continue to exchange stolen kisses
At every dusk and dawn
K.W.
Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 3:10 PM UTC
Time is of the essence
not even the hands of fate
could manipulate
all are cast in her glow
all are mortal still before her
oh
how I wonder
with all the spite about her
do they even know who holds the key?
for they change when she passes
and lose her all too often
she stands until forgotten
yet in anticipation
while her tears flow like sand
but still her heart ticks on
unabashed of its own existence
its purpose and will are reason enough
to beat for war or melody
to satisfy its owner's deepest desire
to remain to cherish all that is
for she would not touch
nor acknowledge
nor have capacity to love
nor reasoning for the existence
of that which was not for her
and so I say to you
remember
when you loss track of Time
when you take her for granted
when you waste her for naught
that Time too has a beating heart
Nov 29, 2019
Nov 29, 2019 at 7:31 AM UTC
Night time falls revealing the grandeur of a vast kingdom. As the sun slinks silently and sullenly to sleep a new world burst to life. The stars dance across the sky, one by one gracefully twinkling to life with the music of the night. The wind sprints across the plain playfully chasing the amber waves. They laugh and play transforming the peaceful pasture into a lively landscape. As the world goes to bed imagination emerges and immerses the world into a dream. Clouds float peacefully meandering across the sky listening to the sweet melodies of a nocturnal sinfonietta. Crickets and owls harmonize happily under the moons silver rays. The world is at peace tonight. Finally I am at peace with it.
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 2:19 AM UTC
I see this small image of me
in my mind’s eye.
In a world filled with black fog,
there in the center stands someone.
Who feels like
my life personified.
I feel I am copy of whoever
stands in that darkness.
I feel I only exist there.
I feel I am the darkness.
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 6:04 AM UTC
A return to these streets
Not to understand the incomprehensible void
Of lost time
Or because of duty bound marks
Left by chains
But for debts yet paid
In full to the ghosts
Which hold the self ransom
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
Not Particularly living up to his name,
Fear stands with open arms,
Welcoming me with a smile.
He is Handsome.
Standing tall with no suspicious qualities;
Beautiful eyes carry no emotion,
Crimson orbs, fiery yet tranquil.
He is Kind.
Like the boyfriend you've always wanted,
He will embrace you with warmth,
Completely faithful in your name.
He is perfect.
And yet, he is what flaws mankind.
Stalking your mind, making you wish
you could walk away from his embrace.
He is persistent.
Making you hesitate with decisions,
Closing your mouth before you can speak,
Making your eyes surge with eerie anticipation.
He is aggressive.
Knocking you over with ominous thoughts,
Choking you, restraining your voice.
Shackling you, turning you powerless.
He isn't real.
Conjured up by outside voices,
By your own nature, and though you know that,
he is more real than any person.
He is Fear.
And he will consume you.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 10:40 PM UTC