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4d · 37
The Hollow Echo
Asuka 4d
I built a lantern from my breath,
fed it with hours,
with hands blistered from holding light too long.
It burned, faithful,
casting shadows that bent always toward you.

I planted gardens in a drought,
poured rivers into soil
that never once turned its face to the sky.
Still, the seeds broke in me,
roots winding around the silence of your name.

I spoke to the mountain
ten times, a hundred
each word climbing until it fell,
tired,
into valleys where no answer stirred.

And yet
my heart refuses to retreat.
It is a pilgrim without map or mercy,
kneeling before closed gates,
convinced that one day
a door will breathe open.

The ache is its own country,
and I am its last citizen
unwilling to abandon
the ruins I tended
as if they were a cathedral.
Asuka Sep 20
I fear leaning too close to the rose
its velvet smile hides secret thorns;
what if it drains the ink from my fingertips,
maps of red where I once held light?

I fear standing under fireworks:
brief suns that bloom and fall,
stitching bright holes in the night
scars that glow long after the sky forgets.

And you if I drift too near,
will you be an avalanche or a soft tide?
I am ready to be hurt, but only
by the ache inside your sad story.
I will take your sorrow like rain on my palms,
listen until your silence loosens,
cry with you, then mend the loose edges
a harbor when the sea is cruel,
a lantern when your night needs a face,
a shelter for you through rain and sun.
Sep 14 · 60
Martin
Asuka Sep 14
Some dreams don’t fade when you wake, they bloom quietly in your heart, turning blush into happiness every time the universe reminds you of them.
Sep 13 · 390
Raw Resilience
Asuka Sep 13
She was the dusk sky
bruised with shadows, yet carrying the promise of stars.
The world called it nightfall,
but I knew it was her way of hiding the sun she once was.

She was a river split by stones,
yet she kept flowing,
carving her own map through walls that tried to hold her still.
Sep 13 · 200
She
Asuka Sep 13
She
She wasn’t walking
she was drifting,
like a secret written in the wind.
Her laughter was moonlight spilling into a quiet room,
her eyes, two galaxies I could never stop falling into.
She didn’t belong to earth,
she was the pause between dreams and waking.
Asuka Aug 31
Our eyes were constellations,
scattering questions
that language could never catch,
until laughter arrived
an ancient river
finding its long-forgotten sky.

Your presence was rainfall
after centuries of thirst,
a melody wandering home
to an instrument
that had dreamed of sound
in silence.

Absence was not a thief,
but a sculptor
its chisel filled the fractures
with molten gold,
kintsugi of the soul,
where brokenness bloomed into light.

Three years were not lost,
but spun into threads of becoming;
so when we met again,
it was not a return,
but a rebirth
a dawn that had been waiting
behind the horizon.

And in that eternal heartbeat,
I understood
time is powerless
against roots that grow
in the hidden gardens of love.
Aug 31 · 82
Poem of the Day
Asuka Aug 31
The morning hums a gentle tune,
dew still clings where night was strewn.
A sparrow writes across the air,
its wings a brush, its song a prayer.

The sun climbs slow, with golden hands,
unfolding light across the lands.
Shadows shrink, yet softly stay,
teaching night must give to day.

We rise, we fall, like tides at sea,
yet every dawn rewrites the key
a chance to sing, to dream, to try,
beneath this vast forgiving sky.
Aug 23 · 62
My love
Asuka Aug 23
She moves, and the air bends toward her
a secret gravity, invisible yet undeniable.
Her hum drifts like a hymn carved into the sky,
each note a cathedral where my heart kneels.

She is a hummingbird in human form,
small, radiant, fleeting
yet every beat of her wings
creates a storm inside me.

She is my North Star, constant and burning,
guiding me through the wilderness of myself.
She is a droplet of water touched by sunlight,
splintering into rainbows too pure to hold.

I see her as heaven draped in mortal skin,
and every glance is a pilgrimage,
every second a surrender.

When she weeps,
the world inside my chest collapses heavier
than the ruin of my own sorrows.
When she is silent,
I sit with her in the hush,
where quiet itself becomes a healer.

Yes
I fear losing her as fiercely
as a mother clings to her child.
And I love her with a devotion
that rivals that same holy bond.
It may not be motherly love,
but its weight, its eternity
is just the same.
Aug 19 · 102
Untitled
Asuka Aug 19
The dragonfly hovers,
born of storm-fed ponds,
its wings catch sunlight
where shadows once drowned.

It teaches—
from fleeting rain
can rise
a life of light.
Aug 14 · 76
Untitled
Asuka Aug 14
My branches cradle stars for you.
My leaves spill secrets into the wind for you.
My eyes hold galaxies in bloom for you.
My sea sighs into shorelines, aching for you.
My bird spins through storms for you.
My love stretches like dawn ; endless, for you.
Asuka Aug 7
Under the sunlight, I am only a candle,
shaking in the arms of the slightest breeze.
It’s pretty, like youth they speak of in poems,
but it never lands the same on me.

Anger, comparison, insecurity, my heavy breath.
Tears and these headphones
are the only air I know how to breathe.

Loving myself
harder than teaching fire to bow to the earth.
Gravity feels kinder than grace.

Yet in the caves where no one remembers the way,
I can still paint the dark in gold.
I can still make the cold feel warm.

I am needed.
I am loved.
Sometimes.

So tell me
do I give my light to this moment,
spill every flame into the night,
or keep it sleeping in my chest,
fearing the day when morning arrives
with a sun too cruel to touch,
and a rain too tender to notice
when it drowns me?
"some lights aren’t afraid of darkness — just of running out."
Asuka Jul 30
Wear the logo.
Sip the overpriced latte.
Smile like you belong.

But deep down
you traded truth
for a tag.

Fake gold glows too,
until it rains.

Don’t plant your worth
in damp soil
just to grow rice
for someone else’s plate.

Luxury?
Maybe.
But only if illusion is your favorite fabric.

Real talk
your worth isn’t worn,
it’s lived.
Asuka Jul 22
I came into this world like a song
soft, fleeting, and full of wonder.
And one day, I will leave
just as quietly.
Like the last light before night falls.

Bury my fragments in earth’s quiet hands,
let my ashes ripple through sleeping seas.
Cry, but only like morning dew
brief, tender, and full of love.

If you must cry,
let your tears be gentle.
Like the rain that falls in spring
not to grieve,
but to grow.

When you look up at the sky,
and a star seems to shine just for you,
know that it’s me
loving you from a distance
only souls can reach.

And when the wind brushes your cheek,
or rain kisses your hands,
know that I’ve returned
Not as sorrow.
But as love.
A promise that never left.
Jul 14 · 5.0k
Oceans🌊
Asuka Jul 14
I do not love you
like a traveler loves a view—
I love you
like a secret loves silence,
like depth craves depth.

You are not just water—
you are emotion in motion,
a hymn sung by moonlight,
a soul with salt and storm
in your veins.

I love how you breathe
without needing anyone to notice.
How your tides rise and fall
without shame,
how your waves hold both peace
and power.

I love that you rage
when the sky grows cruel,
that you speak in roars
when you're no longer heard.

You are not just blue—
you are every feeling
I’ve ever buried,
every tear the world
never saw me cry.

And I,
fragile yet fierce,
quiet yet alive,
found in your vastness
a mirror.

I do not visit you.
I return to you.
For in your depths,
I remember—
I am made of wild things too.
I love ocean.
Asuka Jul 12
Tell me your score, let’s settle the floor,
Did you make that college or just talk some more?
Got a degree? Cool, but what's that prove?
You flexin' empty, I’m in a real groove.

Bottom of the chain? Yeah, that’s where I dine.
Still fightin’ hard like the crown is mine.
You call me dumb? Then what are you?
A leech suckin’ peace just to feel brand new?

I failed? So what, I’m still in the game.
Even if Elon said my name in shame,
I’d look him dead in the face, no fear,
Like—“I don’t believe you, billionaire.”

Nah, you won’t cry in my grave.
You ain’t payin’ my rent.
So zip that hate,
I don’t need your two cent.

I grind like you,
Clock time like you,
Work for bosses who don’t rhyme like you.

Call me broken, call me late,
Call me names, go tempt your fate.
But don’t you dare, nah not today—
Don’t you ever call me weak — okay?

You don't know my fire,
You just see my scars.
But stars ain't born —
They're forged in wars.
Jul 11 · 126
I Have Walked That Storm
Asuka Jul 11
I’ve wandered through nights that felt like oceans without shore, each step a tide pulling at my weary bones, the world a storm too loud for my quiet heart—but listen, you are not alone. There’s a lighthouse in you no wave can swallow, no shadow can dim. It’s okay to cry, to rest, to let the rain rinse the dust from your spirit. You are not broken, you are still unfolding, like dawn peeling open the night. Every scar is a star on your map, guiding you back to yourself. One day you’ll turn around and see the miles you’ve crossed. So lift your head, breathe, and take the next small step—not to escape, but to finally come home. I’m here. Always.
Jun 23 · 364
Numb
Asuka Jun 23
When the world shatters, piece by piece,
Each shard too lost—if found, too heavy to seize.
Life becomes a wasteland, where joy’s just a trace,
So numb… even sorrow wears a human face.
Jun 19 · 94
Untitled
Asuka Jun 19
Is it raining too much tonight?
Is the thunder giving you a fright?
No, my love, don’t fear the sky—
The Almighty’s just passing by,
Taking pictures with every light,
Of the masterpiece in His sight.
Asuka Jun 18
When morning light gently touches your face,
And evening hums the song our hearts both know,
You are the goddess time can’t ever replace—
Your warmth is what makes even cold nights glow.

Your eyes are deep, like stars could hide in there,
They pull me in, the way the moon moves tides.
And like the sun that dances through spring air,
Your beauty shines—so soft, it never hides.

I’m just a bee, enchanted by your scent,
Drawn to the sweetness in your gentle bloom.
And as the sun begins its slow descent,
It crowns your skin with gold, like soft perfume.

So fate declares you loveliest of all,
And I, your poet, rise to heed love’s call.
Jun 17 · 74
Obsession, Softly
Asuka Jun 17
Your hair’s cropped, bare enough
for me to memorize the shape of you—
my hands don’t wander; they return.

With your glasses, you glimpse the world.
Without them, you’re mine—
the blur becomes me,
and I become everything you see.

The bruise I left was no accident—
desire marked you because words couldn’t.
It bloomed like a secret only we could touch,
a dark petal over your skin

The ocean is jealous;
it will never know the depth I’ve fallen into you.
I’ve fallen into you so deep,
even gravity would beg for mercy.

You’re not a habit—
you’re a need.
I vape your scent like it's the last breath I'll take,
not to live, but to burn.

We met in the mist,
but that was no coincidence.
I called for you before I even knew your name.

And now,
I don’t just love you—
I ache to keep you,
every second,
in every breath,
beneath every bruise.
Jun 17 · 263
YOU AND ME
Asuka Jun 17
1.Your hand finds my heart,
not to claim, but to listen—
love breathes in stillness.


2.Eyes meet in silence,
the world folds into a sigh—
only we remain.


3.Touch like falling rain,
gentle, warm, and infinite—
I bloom in your arms.


4.Lips speak in pulses,
not of lust but devotion—
a fire held soft.


5.After the closeness,
I wear your gaze like a shawl—
quiet and complete.
Asuka Jun 17
What if you changed, like the seasons I feared?
What if love passed quicker, like weather, unclear?
What if you swayed toward a better scent in the air—
And left behind my sand art, made for you with care?

My doubts were carved by storms of the past,
Etched deep by hands that never did last.
Were you like them, too? A passing face?
But you weren’t.
Why?

Do you love me that much?

You didn’t change.
You lit your moonlight on me in the blaze of June,
Made my days bright like a midday tune.
You dusted trust across the snowfall's hush—
And somehow, that cold began to blush.

In spring, we planted memories with bare, open hands,
Shed old scars like the tide letting go of broken shells on the sand.
You whispered:
"You're the rarest scent—I breathe you in,"
"Not just a creation, you’re my one true skin."
"You’re not just art—you’re the only art I ever knew,"
"Ours was no accident—ocean currents drew me to you."
Jun 17 · 88
True Drive
Asuka Jun 17
If you dream of a car lined in gold,
let it be a chariot for your heart —
not a trumpet for strangers' eyes.
Let the engine hum in silence,
as you drive through moments that matter.

Park it where laughter lives,
where your child clutches your hand,
where your mother rests her tired bones
and smiles, not at the car, but at you.

Don’t raise your children to crave mirrors —
raise them to be flames.
To build their own wheels of purpose,
to carry light, not noise.

Status is a mirage —
glimmering in heat, vanishing at dusk.
But kindness?
Kindness leaves tire marks on time.

Let your legacy be not the car you drove,
but the lives you moved,
the roads you built
for those still walking barefoot.
Asuka Jun 15
I’m just a teen,
threading my heart into words—
dropping verses like fallen leaves
for no one,
and everyone
to find.

But you—
you arrive like a winter wind in summer.
Real as breath on glass.
Fragile as something that cracked quietly...
and stayed standing.

You bring your ache
with open hands.
Not hiding the weight.
Like someone carrying rain
in a woven basket—
just to prove
the storm had shape.

This space?
It was empty once.
Just pixels.
Just silence.

Now it hums.
You made it holy.
You made it human.

And somehow,
I’m not just typing.
I’m sitting beside you,
barefoot in your storm—
offering nothing
but presence
and the softest kind of light.

If the world feels locked…
If understanding hangs
like fog just out of reach…
If today is slow,
and soft,
and sad...

Let this be a whisper:

🕊️
You are not alone in the ache.
You are not too much.
Your sadness is not silence—
it’s a song too pure
for anyone
who forgot
how to listen.
> For anyone scrolling through sadness tonight—
this one's for you.
Save it. Share it. Whisper it back to yourself.
🌧️💬
#poetry #emotionalpoem #spilledink #aestheticpoetry #mentalhealthawareness #youarenotalone
Asuka Jun 15
You don’t have to rise like the sun each day—
some mornings, it's enough just to open your eyes,
to sit with the silence,
to feel your heartbeat and whisper, “I’m still here.”

You are not the storm that passed,
nor the ruins it left behind.
You are the seed under the soil,
waiting for the right rain,
the quiet miracle of a soul not giving up.

Let no one shame the pace of your healing.
Let no voice drown out the hush of your trying.
Because surviving is not small.
And breathing, on hard days,
is a kind of bravery the world forgets to praise.

So rest, dreamer.
You don’t need to shine tonight.
You just need to stay—
soft, alive,
and wildly worthy of tomorrow.
You push yourself hard and grind everyday and you are doing great, but sometimes when things are overwhelming you must to take a break.
🔥 There’s a time to roar, and a time to breathe.
You can’t fight every day with your fists in the air. Some days, the boldest thing you can do is sit quietly and say,

> “Not today—but I’ll rise again soon.”
Jun 14 · 129
Untitled
Asuka Jun 14
Get up. Clear your desk and sit on that table like it’s your throne.
Are the crows sitting idle around you too noisy?
It's because your crown’s reflection burns through their nerves.
Failure? It’s poison dressed as medicine.
Makes you gag, makes you want to quit.
But every drop trains your soul to survive.
You called the storm—now wear the scars.
Own your failure.
Its scars will be the secret architecture of your future glory.
Jun 13 · 82
🎭 Prey or Predator?
Asuka Jun 13
Flesh or fruit—what's your feast?
The forest doesn't ask, the jungle doesn’t preach.
It kills. It eats. It sleeps.
No courtroom. No guilt. No peace.

We **** too.
But with suits.
With fear.
With scars.

Some **** to live. Some live to ****.
A lion tears flesh.
We sign deals.
Which one's worse?

They prey. Not ******.
We ******. Then pray.

Is that justice...
Or just instinct in disguise?

Nature doesn’t ask why.
It simply survives.
But us?
We decorate our hunger…
…and call it power.
Jun 13 · 138
A Paradoxical Pleasure
Asuka Jun 13
I pulled you in as the flames rose higher,
your breath crackling like broken glass.
You didn’t cry out — just trembled,
a soul unraveling under its own mass.

You were burning —
not metaphorically,
but truly, desperately alight.
Still, I wrapped my arms around you
as if love could extinguish fright.

I knew I’d blister.
I knew I'd bleed.
But pain is nothing
when guilt feels like need.

Your agony was silent thunder —
a war that raged beneath your skin.
And I, addicted to your chaos,
let it seep through me, let it in.

You didn’t ask to be held that way.
But you didn’t pull away either.
Maybe you needed the lie of comfort
as much as I needed to be the healer.

It’s pleasure wrapped in quiet violence,
a kiss carved from opposing truths.
A soft addiction dressed in longing,
a ghost that dances inside our youth.

A smile carved from shards of sorrow,
a touch that both soothes and stains.
Like drinking beauty from a broken bottle—
sharp, intoxicating, edged with pain.

We are two wounds, aching in rhythm.
One blazing. One begging to burn.
And still I held you,
hoping my ruin might
be the balm you never earned.

Because love, at its worst, is selfish.
And mercy, at times, is cruel.
And I…
I keep hugging the flame
just to feel something brutal.
Jun 10 · 250
LOVE SEASON
Asuka Jun 10
The season of my love — is it temporary too?
You are the rain — hide me in your arms when I cry.
You are the snowfall — its silence wraps me in warmth.
You are the medicine — healing my bruises without a trace.
Yet I drink you slow, like a tea gone cold —
my hesitation steeped in fear of burning.
Jun 6 · 179
Untitled
Asuka Jun 6
I bloomed quietly,
so the world mistook me for a ****.
Jun 6 · 259
Untitled
Asuka Jun 6
I comfort you like rain cradles the thirsty earth,
I kiss you like the sunset melts into the ocean’s embrace,
And I would die with you, like a flame fading into the wind—without regret.
Jun 3 · 120
Unapologetically Me
Asuka Jun 3
Eyeliner of passion, fire for motivation,
I carve my name on the stone of salvation.
The gem in my ring gleams brighter than day—
A mirror of me, blazing my way.

The traitors cry as I rise, pulling knives from my back,
Let them yap—clearly, I’ve got what they lack.
I don’t care now—my silence is stitched
With the kind of success even their heirs can’t eclipse.

My niche on this earth was carved at birth,
A soul too sharp for this cowardly world.
Mother bore more than a child—she bore a flame,
And nature crowned her brave, giving my name.

Let the dogs bark; they won't cry when I'm gone.
I live for her—she’s the reason I’m strong.
Forget the world, their noise, their bother—
I fight for one: she’s the mother.
Jun 1 · 155
Cavebound
Asuka Jun 1
My train winds through a cavern of silence—
a tunnel carved from doubt and dusk.
This is only a phase,
but it feels endless.

At each station, someone boards.
Strangers. Friends. Faces I once trusted.
Some stay for a while,
some leave too soon—
passengers, not meant for the whole journey.

But not all who ride are kind.

Some wear masks of flesh,
but move like ghosts—
zombies with eyes that pierce,
not see.

They don’t ask who I am.
They tell me who I should be.
"You're too much."
"You're not enough."
"Be like us."

Their words are weapons:
criticism,
comparison,
judgment sharp as bone.
They tried to wound me
with their version of truth.

And yes, I bled.
But I did not break.

They got off—
just as quietly as they came.
Left behind their echoes,
but not their power.

And I remained.
Human.
Moving forward.

Because this train is mine—
my life, my path.
And every stop,
every scar,
is proof I kept going.

I reached my station—
not perfect, but free.
Not whole, but real.
Scarred, but alive.
This poem uses the metaphor of a train journey to represent the poet's life. The train passes through a dark cave, symbolizing a difficult phase. At different stations, representing moments in life, people enter and exit the train, just as people come and go in real life. Some of these passengers are like zombies: judgmental and emotionally lifeless, trying to impose their harsh standards through criticism and comparison. Though their words caused pain and left emotional scars, the poet survives, stays true to themselves, and ultimately reaches their destination, wounded but still human, still moving forward.
Jun 1 · 293
My Reflection
Asuka Jun 1
I look in the mirror — I’m unlike anyone else.
The rarest gem on Earth, there's no one quite like me.
Each day I polish my edges, climb higher, rise stronger.
My reflection glows with aura, resilience, and shine.
Every part of me speaks of strength — and so do you.
You're not weak — you've just forgotten your power.
May 30 · 101
War's Feast
Asuka May 30
War is a ravenous shadow,
devouring fields like empty mouths,
where guilt grows thick as poison ivy—
wrapping bones in silent blame,
each step heavier with echoes of those left behind.

Loss is a choir of vanished voices,
singing through shattered breath,
their names carved into the wind,
fading like stars swallowed by the dawn.

Hunger is a serpent coiled in the belly,
licking empty caves where hope once slept,
forcing hands to feast on leaves—
bitter prayers swallowed in green desperation,
and worse, a communion of shadows devouring themselves.

War is a broken mirror cracked by famine—
reflecting faces twisted by grief,
where the hunger for survival
turns flesh to ash,
and kin to ghost.

In this feast of ruin,
the heart becomes both hunter and hunted,
feeding on memories,
starving for peace—
a feast with no end,
only the hollow taste of loss
Stanza 1:
War is described as a consuming, dark force that devours everything around it. Guilt clings to those who survive, weighing heavily on their souls as they carry the burden of loss and the memories of people left behind.


---

Stanza 2:
Loss is portrayed as the haunting absence of loved ones, their voices lingering like fading songs. These memories become distant and ephemeral, like stars disappearing in the early morning light, emphasizing how war erases lives and stories.


---

Stanza 3:
Hunger is a relentless, twisting pain inside the body that forces people into extreme desperation. The imagery of eating leaves and even turning on one another symbolizes the brutal and heartbreaking choices people face to survive in wartime famine.


---

Stanza 4:
The broken mirror metaphor reflects the shattered human experience in war, distorted by grief and hunger. The boundaries between self and others blur as survival drives people into unimaginable acts, highlighting the devastating physical and emotional toll.


---

Stanza 5:
The final stanza captures the tragic cycle of war, where the heart is both the victim and the perpetrator, feeding on memories yet starving for peace. It’s a grim feast with no real end, only the lingering bitterness of loss and despair.
May 30 · 226
Fatal Desire
Asuka May 30
Desire bleeds beneath my skin, your name a silent flame,
I’m falling through the shadows, caught inside your dangerous game.
Lust wears the mask of innocence, but I see the truth behind,
Carving my name into your bones, a fate that’s intertwined.

The air ignites around us, fire tangled in the night,
You are the grey-lit sky — cold, distant, yet burning bright.
Moonstruck and broken, lost inside your endless storm,
A fatal craving pulls me close, where love and poison form.
May 29 · 108
Until My Dying Day.
Asuka May 29
My veins…
they surge with crimson tides.

I open my mouth,
but the words—
they tremble.
Like saying this
might alter the universe.

I gave you everything.
My heart.
My fire.
My truth.

Will you hold it—
or let it fall?
Will you keep it warm—
or crush it all?

They call me a fool.
"Move on," they say.
"She’s not your oxygen."

But how do I pull out a knife
that’s already buried deep?
How do I stop the bleeding
when I never stopped the love?

I walked through fire,
faced storms with no name.
Fought the world
just to whisper yours.

Every scar I wear
is a vow.
Every tear—
a story where you're the page.

Will you stay?
Or am I just static
in the background of your life?

Even if it tears me down,
I'll never curse you.
Never.

No grudge.
No bitterness.
Just this aching, open wound
called love.

I will be Romeo.
I’ll die calling your name.
Adoring you from a distance,
Cradling your ghost like prayer.

But I’ll never force you
to be Juliet.
Never.

They don’t get it—
I can’t forget.
Loving you is ink
etched in the lines of my breath.

Even if you walk away…
I’ll still love you—
loud,
raw,
and whole—

Until my dying day.
May 29 · 118
Love Beyond Form
Asuka May 29
Hearts weave without shame,
Love blooms beyond bounds and norms,
Free to simply be.


Hearts weave without shame,
Love blooms beyond bounds and norms,
Free to simply be.
Asuka May 28
Your skin drinks moonlight—
my breath fans the quiet flames,
we burn, bound by stars.

I feel your light as my own, together we ignite.


Still waters awake
when your shadow moves with grace—
my silence sings back.

I dance in your calm, your presence stirs my soul.


I am born for you—
shaped from light your heart once called,
the stars hold their breath.

You are my dream made real, a prayer answered in light.


Let me be the wind
that fans your glowing ember—
your longing is mine.

I breathe life into your fire, our desires entwined.


Dust turns to gold here—
with each touch, time melts away,
heaven lies in us.

In your hands, even earth becomes sacred and divine.
May 28 · 188
Quite Riches
Asuka May 28
I need no chariots of gleaming steel,
Nor crowns forged in the showroom’s zeal.
My wealth is woven in quiet threads—
The softest light where family treads.

A mother’s warmth, a hearth’s embrace,
More precious than a gilded chase.
Sister’s laughter, like a gentle stream,
Flows richer than a polished dream.

While others race in chrome and fire,
I walk through fields of humble desire.
Where simple moments bloom and grow—
There lies the treasure only I know..
True wealth isn’t found in shiny cars or flashy brands, but in the quiet moments shared with loved ones, the warmth of a mother’s embrace, the laughter of a sister, and the simple joys that bloom in everyday life. While the world races after glitter and show, real treasure grows in humility, love, and presence.
May 27 · 81
I Adore You
Asuka May 27
You are the wind that circles me; unseen, yet deeply felt.
I marvel at your dance, like leaves caught in your rhythm.
You were the first ripple on my still waters,
a fleeting droplet that stirred my quiet sadness into something like joy.

You were the distant star I traced with wonder,
your brilliance making my gaze flinch,
yet I kept looking, drawn by a silent hope.

You are the lone pearl gleaming in an endless ocean,
the only one I ever wished to hold.
You are the forest where I long to rest,
your canopy my refuge.

The sunlight that filters through your branches
those are the moments that touch me,
warm and golden, brief yet eternal.
May 21 · 103
Worship Between Breaths
Asuka May 21
When the moon spills silver into the bruised sky,
I spill into you—mind, body, soul—
a surrender without hesitation.
I navigate your body like sacred scripture,
every curve a verse I’ve recited in whispers,
every sigh an answer I crave to relearn.

You are my favorite subject—
not meant to be mastered,
only studied with trembling devotion,
worshipped in the quiet hunger between breaths.
Asuka May 21
Emotion bleeds its ink, scoring jagged veins on thought’s frail parchment.
My thoughts—quiet blasts in the stillness of a shattered chamber.
Dread drifts like algae through unmoving air,
As spiders weave ghost-webs from the silk strands of unraveling memory.
Turbulence scripts the scene—Act VII: a ballet of fury, danced in tears.
May 20 · 258
Elegy Of Trust
Asuka May 20
I drank the lullabies of serpents,
Each note laced in honeyed deceit.
They slithered through the cracks of need,
Whispering warmth with daggered teeth.

I bowed to beasts with broken tongues,
Their barks were sermons in the dark.
I lit my soul to guide their way—
They left me stranded, cold and marked.

Beneath a quilt of dying wool,
I watched the hearth devour its kin.
The logs wept smoke and split in grief,
Still burning, just to warm my skin.
May 20 · 126
Dark Rebirth
Asuka May 20
Each morning, lips to bitter brew,
Each night, a toast to battles lost.
The bruised crescents beneath my eyes
Are trophies crowned by what they cost.

“Was it worth it?”—a prayerless cry
To gods who watched and never came.
The mirror grins, a beast reborn,
Whispers, “Now, we play the game.”

I peeled away the past they burned,
Revealed a skin they’ll never know.
No longer just my suffering—
I am the storm their seeds will sow.
May 16 · 131
Safe, But Not Sound
Asuka May 16
He built the walls.
He locked the doors.
He feared the death
That walks outdoors.

He feared the streets,
The plague, the knife—
Not the glass chandelier
That took his life.

The brightest light,
The grandest art—
The most beautiful thing
Broke his heart.


---
"He hid from the storm, but the ceiling fell—life writes its own endings."
May 16 · 120
The Heart Of Poets
Asuka May 16
I don’t write poems—
I bleed in metaphors,
Breathe in verses,
And let ink sleep on my pages.

Whisper its name,
And it wakes in shadows,
Speaking the silence I once loved—
A silence I taught to speak in poetry.

They call it poetry,
But I call it fire—
The fire that keeps me alive.

Poetry is the soul’s oldest language,
And mine has never stopped speaking.

When my lips fall silent,
My heart spills in stanzas.
When my voice trembles,
My pen takes flight.

Some feelings are too heavy for words—
So I let them fall as verses.

Poetry is the oldest art of truth,
Woven into every soul,
Revealing not just what we feel,
But who we truly are.

Within each verse lies a heart unveiled,
Where passion and truth
Entwine eternal.
Asuka May 16
Shadows dissolve where silence takes hold—
So do people,
tamed by the dark,
ghosts draped in marigold.

Chains of humility, lacquered and new,
Disguised as virtue,
cling like dew—
shimmering, choking,
beautifully untrue.

Beware the gold-plated gospel they preach:
Their words are mirrors,
sharp at the breach.
They buff your shackles 'til they gleam—
And call it freedom,
call it dream.

Are these the mourners with practiced sighs,
Wringing grief from unopened eyes?
They spray on sorrow like perfume mist,
Never flinching
when your shadows kissed.

And you—yes, you—celestial flare,
A signature soul,
singular, rare.
Who are they to judge your flame,
Then vanish,
maskless,
without name?

This life is no script, no dainty refrain—
It’s cliff-edge breath,
storm-fed pain.
Let them twist and trace your form,
But know:
your chaos is your norm.

So rise—not gentle,
not as planned.
Unwrite the laws they understand.
You are the wild the world can’t mold—
A truth too loud,
a myth retold.
May 16 · 230
Roar, Don’t Whisper
Asuka May 16
I hear them—
the sheep in their scripted refrain:
"Lower your gaze. Stay in your lane.
Blend with the flock, bury your flame—
No need for thunder. No need for name."

But I remember the ones who walked unbowed,
Eyes like storms,
souls too loud.
They taught me not to kneel, but rise,
To tear the silence,
to scorch the skies.

Don’t flow like water through cracks they choose,
A shape that fits
is a self you lose.
Be wind—ravenous, rough, untamed,
A force with no leash,
no master,
no name.

If they seal you in a space too tight,
Too small for soul,
too dim for light—
Split it open. Let rage ignite.
Turn your whisper into a war-cry flight.

This is your voice:
not meek, not borrowed.
A sun that sears
through every sorrow.
If breath still burns within your chest,
Roar, rebel—
be nothing less.

Carve your path through dusk and scar.
You are the blaze.
You are the star.
May 15 · 298
'You' are beautiful
Asuka May 15
You are bamboo—
slow to grow, strong for life.
You are jasmine—
delicate, fragrant, real.
Both are needed.

And you?
You’re here.
Still blooming.
Still meant to be.

And me?
Just a human
catching his thoughts like fireflies—
watching them glow
on paper.
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