#venting
I speak, but it’s like I’m whispering to walls
Words fall through cracks, no one hears my calls
I’m shouting loud, but it’s just empty air
Do they even notice, or do they just not care?
I’m right here, right in front of their eyes
But I’m just a shadow, a ghost in disguise
Would they notice if I disappeared?
Would they see me or just feel relieved?
Am I just noise in the background, unheard?
Am I seen, or ignored?
Would they notice, or am I just ignored?
I give my all, but it’s never enough
Like I’m chasing stars, but they don’t light me up
They smile and pretend like they understand
But the truth is, I’m lost in no-man’s land
I’m reaching out, but no one takes my hand
Just another face they don’t understand
Would they notice if I disappeared?
Would they see me or just feel relieved?
Am I just noise in the background, unheard?
Am I seen, or ignored?
Would they notice, or am I just ignored?
I’m tired of screaming in silence
Of fading without a trace
I want to be more than a ghost in the crowd
I want to find my place
Would they notice if I disappeared?
Would they see me or just feel relieved?
Am I just noise in the background, unheard?
Am I seen, or ignored?
Would they notice, or am I just ignored?
Maybe one day someone will see
The real me, not just what’s on the surface,
And maybe then I’ll finally be free
From being unseen, ignored, in this world’s cold purpose.
May 20
May 20, 2026 at 2:15 PM UTC
Heard this one line
"People who understand the world better are not accepted by it"
I called ********
But with each mistake and harsh lesson,
I'm pushed more
More sharks circle,
Hoping to draw blood
But when they do,
There are only shallow marks
Because I saw it coming
When the sharks were still smiling
And offering me their kindness
I saw where it was going
And they didn't circle me because they chose me
I chose them
I saw the pitying, welcoming smiles and chose them
I chose them to stab me again
So I can learn
And prove it right
That this is the world
That it hurts
But I don't care
I'd rather be alone than lonely with people who wouldn't hesitate to throw me off.
Who would do that **** for free
I can't tell what I'm doing wrong
Is it that I'm being myself?
And unapologetic about it?
Is it because I laugh and jump into reckless **** because life is so short and fragile
Or maybe because in a world full of fakes who cover their flaws,
I swim in a pool of my blood around sharks, daring them to take a bite
Maybe it's because I set boundaries when something isn't right
Maybe it's because I give people feedback, and apparently, they don't like that
Maybe it's because I stay true to myself and refuse to fit in
To become as shallow as they are
Maybe it's cause I speak my mind and act how I want
Maybe it's because they hate that I'm brave
Brave enough and stubborn enough to refuse to give up on ME
Sigh...
I'm back to it again.
Because they may be the sharks that bite me to shreds
And I'd still understand that maybe they were hungry
They went days without food, their stomachs aching and begging to be filled
They'd hurt me
And my first thought is whether they're ok
If they want to talk but don't feel safe doing it
That they only know to release it through raised voices and piercing betrayal
That I wasn't there for them
Or maybe they didn't feel safe with me
Comfortable enough to tell me
To say something!
Or maybe they were comfortable.
In just hurting me
And I can't be mad
Because at least in some way,
I helped release that stress
That by being there for you to shout at and stab,
You feel better
And I'd rather that happen than you stay silent and shut yourself off
And it's ok if you're all happy with hurting me
For stabbing me over and over again
Because I can take it
I knew you'd do it
I know there's a reason
And I know that I'll move on
I'm trying to keep being the nice person
A penance for what I've done
For all the people I hurt
For all the people whom I've lost
Because they would prefer I do that
I'd rather suffer from kindness than hurt remorselessly
And that has been seared into every atom of my being
Apr 9
Apr 9, 2026 at 7:52 PM UTC
Some windows on the world,
with us in it, me and you, strangers
in danger of becoming mere left overs,
scrap as was result of known reagents
reaction while titrating peace to end a lie,
ready reaction factions peace patrol pause,
is this a silly poet wish, is this some silly game,
or do some ol'silly daysman mindsets pace us,
are the rhythms of the chain gangs with us,
can we row, row, row the boats, Ben Hur-ish,
ink speed, in the land of enchantment, wish,
to imagine a story of the definite true will
life is truth working, confidential mysteries,
where such a one as you happened all at once,
one full life measure your ration, taken at once,
for as long as there remains a breath untaken,
what a peace maker makes works, or it don't.
What remains after missing a defined mark,
dawn to dusk, asking why children must suffer,
why faith is so abused, why such a man as TRUMP
can mock the works of Jesus and be cheered in church.
------------------
Pedantic confession to peers, did the act didactic, duty
to the rage inside me at those trusting TRUMPs advizors,
those voices that prove him vincible in cosmic ways,
from the land of enchantment, transgression progresses,
toward a time when no hidden thing goes unexposed,
naked truth is shown, all mankind lie by nature, see,
what knowing the truth does is free the beguiled.
But each must think about it. If it is self-evident,
good will is a local resource on Earth, under promises
declaring defiance in face of confidence, prideful as hell,
who wins is not the mother weeping for her daughter//
Thunk, seed pod launched, repeat the sounding joy,
truth frees its conscious acknowledgers
from national shame on spaceship Earth,
where the set 72 minute clock is ticking,
all we ever thought to ask if it were true, all the news
all the olds, in 2026, annihilation of human thought,
one allowed Sabbath day walk, says Annie Jacobsen…
72 minutes from any ICBM anywhere, the process
of mutually assured destruction, for God's sakes,
truth, remembering seeing Earth from the moon…
and ten thousand hours of Primal Lethality Kriegspiel
Mar 2
Mar 2, 2026 at 10:09 PM UTC
It fills me with distain when you look at me and deflect the blame.
You stand to claim it's not you who needs to change
Everyone is wrong but you,
dont you see all the pain you put everyone else through?
You talk about boundaries yet dont acknowledge any but your own.
How self centered do you have to be-
Putting yourself on a high sitting throne?
You dress your imperfection
but it lacks in deception.
Everyone can see it,
Even you.
Yet you make the choice not to.
Instead your visions filled with reading
The people who surround you.
You're "the bigger person" who tells people how they act.
Truly your existence is an ego that can't control how to react
Instead of staying calm in uncertainty
You erupt like a volcano instantly.
Its insanity.
—But oh no, its never your fault it's
his fault,
her fault,
Or mine.
You focus on the faults of others instead of fixing your own leaky faucet.
So you can have active distractions that aid your projections.
You believe everyone needs to be told about themselves but when it comes to you,
Oh
"im a human too"
And
"Im not perfect"
Well shouldn't it be clear that im not too?
I am not a book to read,
I am not trying to amuse you
Although it seems i have casted myself in the act of a fool.
Im treated like a tool, whose free to use
you mock my words, worries, and woes.
Because nothing else matters to you but your own.
You shower me in gifts and hugs and mistake it for real love.
You force guilt on others for having real emotions.
All because you cant understand your own.
Jan 8
Jan 8, 2026 at 12:04 AM UTC
I listened, closed my mouth, and let you speak,
As you vented your contentions almost dementedly.
So much discontentment, oh, so much resentment;
You piled it onto me.
Color faded from my walls,
Monochromatic grey became my curtain call.
You continued to dispute how minute you meant to the world,
And despite all my refutes, you refused to be amused and remained bemused.
I tried everything to save you and simultaneously save me.
Spent many nights waking up crying, worrying if you were okay,
Numbness mixed with the grey.
Was I just an ear for you to use?
I was thankful when you left,
And yet, there are things I won't ever forget.
Is it so selfish to question this:
Did you ever think of me, through your continuous,
Suffocating,
Agonizing,
Paralyzing,
Scrutinizing,
Death-defying venting?
Oct 30, 2025
Oct 30, 2025 at 9:01 PM UTC
Pain
Irrelevant
I do not hurt
Unless of course
You find my Achille’s heel
In which I hurt twice fold
Physical pain
Can be ignored
It doesn’t hurt
But emotions are different
They are wild
Uncontrolled
Destructive
Unable to be ignored
Emotions don’t just hurt you
They tear you apart
Until you are yourself no more
Oct 16, 2025
Oct 16, 2025 at 11:56 AM UTC
It’s just me, out of my mind
sipping on helium, pondering
why a tuna fish sandwich
is on a vegan menu, and how
to install a security system on
a dollhouse without a door
or glass on the windows.
I’m not pretty when I’m backed
in a corner, but hey, there are
those who don’t listen when
I say my vocabulary has teeth.
There aren’t any caution signs
on a poet … They can hop from
a flower poem to beneath an umbraculum
so dark with honesty a reader will
seek a priest even if they’re not catholic.
So if you don’t have a tornado shelter,
don’t create the storm … I’m not pretty
when backed in a corner, and not timid
about writing with my teeth.
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 6:52 PM UTC
I live on an island.
Just me and my 2.3 million thoughts.
It's getting crowded here,
I looked to the right,
and the money worries are in sight
I turn a corner,
there's housing waiting for an order
I spin around to the sound of my Independence,
crying with fear,
she may be about to be taken away
I look up and see my capabilities questioning me
I need my thoughts to stop all talking
This island is too full.
I want to get off
My finances are taking a hit
It's not my fault,
Not one bit
I can't take on anymore. My Island is about to sink
On the count of three… just stop.
Jul 24, 2025
Jul 24, 2025 at 6:38 AM UTC
When you try to vent
to your parents,
it’s like banging your head
against a brick wall—
one you know won’t move,
one you know
will only make you bleed more.
But still,
you push.
You try to shift it,
to make them understand
that you’re tired,
that you’re drowning
in this numbness
that’s eating you alive.
And they ignore it.
Brush it off.
Turn away.
So eventually,
you stop.
You shut down.
You stop offering pieces of yourself
to people who never looked
closely enough to see them.
You become a blank page
in front of them—
no stories,
no pain,
no you...
Jun 24, 2025
Jun 24, 2025 at 7:27 AM UTC
> The world doesn't accept complainers
So I'll shut up and live with it
People could be dyin and they'll be called entertainers
Because no one will listen so its better to submit
> I'm tired and want to bawl my eyes out
But this world will not accept complainers
So I'll shut up and deal with it
And continue my path even if there's doubt
Even if I receive nothing, I'll pretend to be one of those gainers
Even if my face is soaked with spit
> It hurts so much but I'll clench my teeth
Because life cannot have another soul dying
And take my weapon out of its sheath
Because fighting is easier than crying
May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 8:59 AM UTC
You lie awake,
Late at night,
Heart quakes,
And constricts you tight.
You get a text on your phone,
From a friend that you know,
Your feelings of being alone disappear.
They ask you,
“Wanna hang out on Saturday?”
The beginning of your doom,
As your brain goes insane.
You question whether you should go,
Dream up excuses to keep you stuck at home,
Yet, you wonder why you feel so alone,
Nobody’s fault but your own.
It’s the crisis of connection,
Those nasty thoughts in your head,
That make you feel like you’re too boring,
For a meaningful friend,
So you keep the superficial ones,
Those that fade,
In a vain attempt to save you from the pain.
You say you feel alone,
Like no one cares,
Yet when they try,
You let your fears control,
And hold you back,
And you know,
That it’s wrong.
You push them away,
You’ll hurt them first before they deal the final blow to you,
You’ve experienced it before,
And you don’t want to feel that way again.
So you build your walls too high,
Where no one can save you,
Cause you trapped yourself inside.
You hope it’s not too late,
To make a window,
So you can see their faces,
And try to change your fate.
It’s the crisis of connection,
That keeps you standing back,
On the sidelines,
Too afraid to attack.
You assume,
Perhaps you were just meant to be alone,
So you stay home,
With your mental contusions.
You don’t know where to go.
So you just stand alone.
You’re not afraid,
To take the road less traveled,
You never fit in anyway,
So why bother?
Just do what you do,
And see where it takes you,
The road might be lonelier than most,
Just hold onto hope.
Perhaps the crisis of connection,
Won’t seem so severe,
In time.
Perhaps building strength,
And faith,
To make self-corrections,
Is the way,
To cross the finish line.
Perhaps the loneliness,
Is a testament to your strength,
Just don’t give up,
Though it may hurt,
I know,
We will find our way.
Mar 18, 2025
Mar 18, 2025 at 11:26 PM UTC
dear whatevers up there, im currently choking on my own soul in my room whilst thom yorke croons into my ears,
surrounded by paper and **** and all i can think of is the decaying in my bones.
dear whatevers up there, please save me.
im not here, this isnt happening.
everything is piling up and im drowning in myself.
dear whatevers up there, please save me.
i want to shiver and breathe until i reach something new.
dear whatevers up there, please save me.
i want to curl and coil until i reach something old.
dear whatevers up there, please save me.
i want to fade and dilute until its like i never really was.
dear whatevers up there,
please save me.
Mar 16, 2025
Mar 16, 2025 at 8:11 AM UTC
Sometimes it’s best,
To hold one’s tongue,
And take what you can get,
The alternative,
Is often worse.
Listen to their screams,
Their complaints,
As they say,
You’re the villain,
The hypocrite,
The one in the wrong.
Ignore the voices,
In your head,
That wonder if they’re right.
Sometimes it’s just best,
To tolerate insolence,
Rather than risk,
Corruption.
Feb 26, 2025
Feb 26, 2025 at 5:23 PM UTC
This year, lunchtime seems to drag on,
When previously, before I knew it, it was gone.
What has changed?
It isn’t time.
It’s the sorrowful realization,
That friends can fade,
Just like the rain,
Before you know it,
Gone.
The silence,
Deafening,
The consequences,
Terminal,
I’ll never be the same.
Feb 26, 2025
Feb 26, 2025 at 4:56 PM UTC
I never thought the words would stick,
Not in my throat, not in my skin,
But here they are, burning like a wick,
The lies they told, the shape I’m in.
I hear them now, when I close my eyes,
My mother’s voice, sharp and cold,
Telling me that I’m not enough,
That I’ll never be worth the love I’m sold.
“Mary, you’re a disappointment,”
The words hit like a slap in the face.
Every failure is a mark she leaves,
Every tear is a slap to my grace.
She says it’s my fault,
I’m the one who makes her break,
But how do I fix what’s broken,
When I don’t even know where to start or take?
Her last words haunt me in the night,
Telling me I’m wrong, telling me I fight,
Telling me my worth is nothing,
That I’m just a ghost in a family that’s done with loving.
Her last words, sharp as knives,
Cut through the quiet of my fragile life.
She’s always angry, always mad,
Never sees what’s behind the sad.
I’m just a face she can’t embrace,
A reflection of everything she can’t erase.
She tells me I’ll never be enough,
My nose too big, my heart too soft.
She tells me I’ll end up like them,
The ones who couldn’t make it,
Couldn’t win.
She says it so casually,
As though the pain doesn’t stick.
As though she doesn’t see my tears,
As though her words won’t break me quick.
Her last words echo in my chest,
Telling me I’m nothing,
Telling me I’ll never be my best.
Her last words, like a whispered prayer,
Begging me to break, but I’ll never be there.
And every time I try to stand tall,
She pushes me back down again,
Says I’m a failure, says I’ll fall,
And that I’m no better than my biological kin.
But somewhere inside, I still fight,
I still hope that one day I’ll rise,
Even if she can’t see my light,
Even if she only sees the lies.
She yells at Y, tells her the same,
That we’re the problem, that we’re to blame.
She says it’s our fault she feels this way,
But it’s her rage that never fades.
It’s her fear that’s running wild,
Turning her into a broken child.
And every time she calls me out,
I think of what could’ve been,
If love didn’t come with rules and doubt,
If we were just a family, not a war within.
Her last words are the truth I can’t escape,
They’re carved into my skin, into my fate.
Her last words, heavy like stone,
Reminding me that I’m always alone.
And when my breath finally fades away,
It’ll be her words that seal my end.
Not the love I longed for, but the lies she said,
Will be the silence where my heart bends.
The world won’t miss me, they’ll forget my name,
Just another girl lost in a family’s shame.
I’ll be just a shadow, fading fast,
A memory of love that never lasts.
Her last words will haunt me still,
As my body grows cold, my spirit still.
In the end, I’ll finally be free,
From the weight of her love, from what’s left of me.
Feb 19, 2025
Feb 19, 2025 at 10:43 PM UTC
gasp,
gaps,
my memory,
why is everything so fuzzy,
disoriented,
my vision...
tell me,
tell me now,
TELL ME-
TELL ME NOW-
WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME-
why won't you tell me what happened?
what happened...
what...
you.
YOU.
no...
no. no.
no.no.nononononoon....
NO.
this wasn't supposed to be,
this way.
WHY?
-WHY ME?
Jan 13, 2025
Jan 13, 2025 at 9:11 PM UTC
Reece means enthusiasm,
Enthusiasm I rarely feel.
When it comes to most things,
The emotion is fear.
I wonder if it is a coincidence,
Why, I am named this name.
Or if there’s a reason,
Why, I think this way.
For something to entice me,
It better be something really good.
Most things that look like
Fun I don’t like to do
And I get misunderstood.
Sports sounds just awful,
Something I wouldn’t enjoy
I’m not much of a competitor,
They are just a lot of noise.
I don’t say what’s on my mind,
As often as I should, for
Fear of being misunderstood.
But writing, oh writing,
It’s easier to put down
What I think, Me,
Reece Ellison, the anxious
Boy with a world inside his head.
Huh, I guess there is some
Enthusiasm hidden deep down
After all…
Nov 10, 2024
Nov 10, 2024 at 6:04 PM UTC
I hear your hollow compliment,
no gilded chains will bind me, see?
Respect my strength;
Please, don’t patronise me.
©️Lizzie Bevis
Nov 9, 2024
Nov 9, 2024 at 12:02 PM UTC
I feel so empty
Nothing is real
People say it's not that big of a deal
But it is
It's something you cannot miss
It lives with me everyday
It feels like a fever dream everyday
It's hard to live with
People may think it's a myth
It's really not
It's just like a knot
It's annoying
It's overwhelming
It often makes me wanna cry
But sometimes makes me want to die
It often leaves me questioning if life is real or not
It makes my brain form into a knot
It's so confusing
It's so overwhelming
I can never ground myself
I don't know how to cope with myself
The "fever dream" makes life so cloudy
It almost makes me look lousy, or drowsy
It makes me think if I'm high or drunk
Or if my body was in a trunk
It's like I have a 0.5x filter constantly running
It feels like after I got done hyperventilating
Is this a poor way of my body coping?
From all the groping?
From all the manipulation?
From all the exploitation?
Oct 15, 2024
Oct 15, 2024 at 11:27 PM UTC
It burns it hurts It hits
My head of bitterness My mind of ressentiment
I want to destroy break and ******
Rip those apart Who stand
Stand for my hurt My wounds
Let them Die Let them burn
May they suffer Like Pigs and Monkeys
Swallowed by the Earth
Not like they did anything wrong But they choose to live
Why must they Live Why must They be
Be and hurt me
What did They do to me I suffer Suffer and burn
I wish to burn I wish them to Burn
Burn like Monkeys and Dogs End
Sep 16, 2024
Sep 16, 2024 at 5:12 PM UTC
Me pondría las botas
con ***** de acero, llenas de lodo
para machacarte la cabeza contra el cemento
Y finalmente exhalar
el humo que me metiste y aún cargo dentro
Porque sé que me dirías que en vez de saltarte encima debería patearte
Porque arriba de ti no causo daño
Ya me lo decías tú
Quisiera agarrarte del pelo
Arrancarte el cuero cabelludo como peluca de ortiga
Atarte a un poste de luz en un callejón oscuro
Azotarte con tu pelo y cubrirte de tu propia caspa
Deslizar la navaja para abrirte una sonrisa
Aunque no soportaría tus gritos, solo por eso no lo haría.
Exprimirte las manos sudorosas
Y ensanchar el mar de distancia entre tu padre y tú
Ya calva, te arrastraría al barrio
para condenarte a trabajar de cajera
Y a no conocer a nadie que guste del arte
el resto de tu mugrosa vida.
Aug 16, 2024
Aug 16, 2024 at 3:59 PM UTC