my biggest fear is you seeing me
the way i see myself—
the cracks beneath the surface,
the doubts i file away

i hide my flaws in shadows deep,
but what if you should find
the fractured mirror that i see
when i look inside my mind?

i see you in every corner of my mind
your golden brown eyes,
they light up when i make you laugh
but im not supposed to anymore
i really shouldn’t talk to you anymore
yet i find myself gravitating
to your sweet smell,
your bright smile
i think we have a soul-tie
because no one has ever understood me
like you did
i wish things turned out differently
i still feel the echoes of you

i feel things too deeply
it’s just kind of the way i am
each laugh or each sigh
is a weight upon my heart
it’s like i can sense unspoken pain
within every crowded room
god i wish it didn’t have to be like this
i still remember what you said
why do you think
i stopped bringing lunch?
someone please make it end
it’s too much for me
my heart is too wide

it must be nice to be a tree,
roots grounded, branches free.
no storms to fear, no choice to sway,
standing tall, come what may.

or maybe like the river’s flow,
carving paths where it will go,
unchallenged in its steady course,
untouched by unfamiliar force.

to walk through life with quiet ease,
a steady wind, an endless breeze.
it must be nice, i sometimes think,
to hold the earth and never sink.

Today I went for a bike ride.
We’re in a heat wave
So I rode under the cover of dusk,
Listening to the sweet melodies of the crickets.
I didn’t think there’d be another heat wave,
We’re on number four already.
But I guess this is how it is now.
It didn’t used to be like this.
The sky is pink and orange,
The July air smells faintly of smoke
And reminds me of summers long ago.
The kind of summer that I long for,
The one I spend my winter days anticipating,
The kind that I haven’t had in a while.
It’s still sweet,
But not sweet enough.
It didn’t used to be like this.
Remember how we used to bike?
Everyday?
And now I only do it
When I can find the time.
No.
Truthfully,
It’s when I can find the motivation to get off the couch,
And search for the feeling that I once had.
Yet I still can’t find the motivation
To answer all my texts.
Sarah, it didn’t used to be like this.
As the sun sets around me,
I think about how we would race the lingering light,
Praying we’d get you home
Before the light died,
And I wonder
Would that still be the rule
If you had stayed here with me?

the alarm rings, and she’s already spent
dragging her feet through the weight of the day
a mountain of tasks, a future of discontent
but they wonder—what price does she pay?

her body aches, no, it pleads for rest
her mind’s a storm, one too loud to hear
she always tries her hardest, she always gives her best
but she’s drowning in a sea of fear

the nights are worse, with no space to breathe
thoughts that are like chains, pulling her down low
she stares at the ceiling, she’s silent beneath
waiting for a peace she’ll never know

each day repeats, each a merciless loop
but still, she rises (she’s afraid to stop)
she carries this burden, this endless troop
praying one day, maybe it’ll finally drop

she counts the hours but they stretch like years
the weight of “what ifs” a constant ache
each smile’s a mask, concealing tears
a fragile facade she’s scared to break

what’s the point, this cycle of pain?
each step forward feels more like a crawl
she screams inside, but it’s all in vain—
no one can hear when she’***** the wall

even her dreams bring little relief
haunted by what she’s left undone
she carries this quiet, invisible grief
watching the days blur into one

maybe she’ll rest when there’s nothing to do
when expectations no longer chase
but for now, she keeps moving through
with this hollow shell, in this endless race

the summer air was thick with goodbyes,
and you left before fall could call us back.
i watched you go, a piece of me in your hands,
like sand slipping through my grasp.

they say time heals, but it just aches,
the empty halls, the spaces you filled,
a silence where laughter used to be;
a shadow of all we built.

i count the days, but you feel far,
like a star faded from the sky.
i’m here, stuck between missing you
and trying to learn how to say goodbye.

August is the Sunday of summer
A slow, heavy sigh
That drifts over the sun-bleached days,
The bright, lazy hours.
The heat hangs like a memory,
Lazy and heavy,
As if summer itself is reluctant
To slip back into the pages of a calendar, Where days blur into the promise of something else.
The mornings are a bit less forgiving,
The air tinged with the shadow of a classroom,
The soft whisper of new pencils and paper, The hint of structure returning.
August brings a shift,
An undertone of anticipation
That stirs beneath the calm surface,
Like the distant hum of an old alarm clock, Waiting to signal the end of rest,
The beginning of something expected, yet feared.
The long, sun-drenched afternoons
Feel like a final, quiet farewell,
Each day a little more golden,
a little more fragile,
The bright edges of summer
Softening into the muted tones of
The school year to come.
August is the Sunday of summer,
A quiet, nostalgic refrain,
Where every fleeting day
Echoes with the promise of change.
As the sun descends a bit earlier,
And the nights grow cooler still,
August lingers like a gentle reminder
That summer's end is near,
Soft and unspoken  
That the season is changing,
And with it, the slow, heavy sigh
Of summer’s final, golden hours.
August is the Sunday of summer,
A sad, lingering pause
Before the structured rhythm
Of the days that follow,
A silent, reflective bridge
Between the freedom of sunlit days
And the routine soon to reclaim us.

i used to feel happy most of the time,
with sadness just passing through,
but now it feels like sadness stays,
happiness, a rare guest.

in daylight, i can manage,
i push through, i wear a smile,
but when night comes, it gets harder,
and i feel alone with this weight.

i don’t know how to tell them,
this shift, this sadness i carry,
i wish i didn’t feel this way,
but i do, and i don’t know how to share it.

through my writing, i spill my soul,
each line a bridge, a way to hold
the pieces of me i need to share,
a call to find someone, somewhere.

with every verse, i bare my heart,
a fragile art, a healing start.
in hopes that words can build a space
where souls connect, a shared embrace.

in the quiet moments
when the weight settles
there’s a familiar ache,
a shadow that lingers.

words that echo
with unraveled hopes,
a constant measuring
against an unseen standard.

every effort feels heavy
each smile a mask on my face
whispers of not quite enough,
never enough.

in a crowded room,
even laughter feels distant,
a reminder of the places
i can’t quite reach.

still, i search for a glimmer,
but the weight remains,
shaping who i am
the truth of the matter

i will never be good enough

when we were younger,
we made promises.
“BFFs” we’d say,
a vow inked in laughter,
and whispered secrets,
a place of unbreakable bonds
in world still discovering its limits.  

the word “forever” rolled off our tongues
like an incantation
a spell against time,
an assurance that never would our paths diverge.
we clung to it
with a sort of youthful certainty.

in its shimmering glow,
everything felt possible,
every challenge conquerable,
every storm a passing shadow.
but as the years went by,
and we navigate the labyrinth of growing up,
the syllables shift,
settle into a new rhythm,
“Best friend.”

we type “bsf” into our phones.
something not as final,
not as bold,
but softer,
more nuanced.
we understand now
that forever is a fragile promise,
a truth that shifts
with the winds of change.

our laughter still echoes,
but the landscape has transformed,
now a map of our lives,
marked by detours and revelations.
and so, “bsf”
becomes a testament to the present,
to our current moment,
to the growing spaces
where we meet,
where we still hold each other in our hearts.
not forever, but for now.

even as we drop the “forever”,
its warmth still lingers.
the name may have softened,
but the bond is undiminished,
a testimony to time,
where “forever” and “now”
blend into a single, unbroken thread.

i am a mosaic of everyone i’ve loved,
each broken piece a color, a hue,
a story of joy, a tale of pain,
and every loss leaves something new.

happiness isn’t just joy alone;
it’s the quiet absence of sorrow’s reign,
where love and heartache learn to rest,
a harmony born from loss and gain.

each face, each voice, a part of me,
etched in the lines that shape my grin.
they linger still, like whispered songs,
even as other lives begin.

to love is to carry a thousand hearts,
to hold the light that others leave,
and even when they’re out of sight,
they stay, like shadows that softly weave.

even in endings, warmth remains,
like embers that glow long after fire.
a mosaic formed of love and ache,
of fleeting joy and desire.

for happiness is not untouched,
but woven from threads of loss and grace,
a way to gather the pieces whole,
and find the light in every space.

the blade whispers promises
it cannot keep,
and i press,
but it never cuts deep enough
to quiet the storm.

each line carved on my skin
feels like an apology,
to myself,
to the world i’m hiding from,
to the guilt that follows
like a shadow i can’t escape.

i tell myself this is the last time.
that i’ll find another way,
but the ache is relentless,
and the silence inside me grows louder,
begging for release.

i want to stop.
i want to believe
there’s more to me than this,
but for now, i sit with the shame,
and the fragile hope
that one day,
i’ll learn how to heal.

your laugh still echoes, clear as day,
a melody i’d know miles away.
yet now, it’s distant, faint, untied,
like a shadow of the time we tried.

“don’t be a stranger,” you softly said,
but the weight of it filled me with dread.
isn’t it strange how that plea is spun
when the stranger’s thread has already begun?

a last act of desperation, so bare,
a whisper thrown into empty air.
we both knew what it really meant,
a way to hold on when the ties were spent.

now you’re someone i barely know,
a flicker of light from long ago.
i wonder, would you recognize me?
or has time blurred what used to be?

“don’t be a stranger,” the words still ache,
a promise we couldn’t help but break.
yet your laugh remains, sharp and true,
a stranger’s gift i still hold onto.

“are you okay?” they always ask,
and i nod, my answer rehearsed.
“i’m alright,” i say, though inside i ache,
the weight of it growing worse.

i wish they’d pause, just for a beat,
to catch the truth behind my eyes,
but they take my words and move along,
unaware of my quiet lies.

i want to say, “no, i’m not fine,”
to let my walls finally break,
but my voice betrays me every time,
and “alright” is all i can fake.

how did it become so hard to speak,
to let someone see my pain?
i’m tired of pretending, but i don’t know how,
so i say “alright” again.

the water greets me, a mirror and a veil,
cold and unyielding, yet somehow forgiving.
with every stroke, my body protests,
screaming in soreness, pleading for stillness.

the lane is endless,
marked by the rhythm of my breath,
a metronome of effort and will.
each lap erases the outside world,
until it’s just me and the silence beneath.

this isn’t about speed, or glory,
it’s a battle of mind and muscle,
against the doubt that rises like waves.
in the water, i am both lost and found.

the loud girl in class
the quiet one online
the secret mental struggles
the aching to feel fine

the too proud athlete
the one who skips PE
the weight of expectations
the fear of never being free

the girl who never studies
the one who always tries
the cracks beneath the surface
the truth behind their eyes

the third of four sisters
the one in their glow
the pressure to be noticed
the reality they’ll never know

you say
“what are you scared of?”
and i say “silence,”
but you’re confused

what i mean is
silence is haunting
it’s not only the absence of sound
it’s the absence of everything

you don’t realize, when it is silent
thoughts slip into my brain
bad thoughts
ones that you don’t have

they creep in like shadows
filling the void with echoes
of every mistake, every fear,
reminders of battles lost within

in that quiet,
the heart races,
drowning in whispers
that claw at my sanity

i long for the noise,
the chatter, the laughter,
anything to drown
out the darkness lurking

you see, it’s not just the silence—
it’s what it reveals,
the demons I face alone
in the stillness of my mind

what the **** am i doing here,
chasing shadows, chasing fear.
steps uncertain, paths unknown,
trying to find my way alone.

tomorrow, i’ll sit across from someone
whose job is to listen.
i’ll try to speak,
to untangle the mess i carry,
but the words might not come out right.

i’m scared.
scared they’ll dismiss me,
scared they’ll nod politely
but not truly hear.
scared they’ll look at me
like i’m just another 16 year old
with problems that don’t matter.

but what if they do listen?
what if i let them in,
just enough to ease this weight?
what if saying the words
i’ve been too afraid to speak
is the start of something better?

i’m not sure i’ll go.
i’m not sure i’ll stay.
but maybe sitting in that chair
is the first step
toward finding something
i didn’t know i needed.

is it worth the weight i bear,
this climb i’m told will lead to more?
for debts and desks, for restless years,
a future i’m not reaching for?

the days grow long, the nights too loud,
the pressure builds, it pulls, it binds.
a whispered thought begins to form,
what’s left for me, what will i find?

but then, a breeze, a song, a smile,
a fleeting joy, a gentle flame.
it cuts the dark, it lifts the weight,
reminds me life is not a game.

perhaps the climb will bring me peace,
or paths unknown that lead to gold.
for in the cracks of heavy stone,
there’s light and love still yet to hold.

the clock hands circle, slow yet unkind,
stealing the moments i’ll never rewind.
each second a whisper, a truth left unsaid,
a future that waits while the past is widespread.