living each like it's my last.
I didn't write this to be understood.
I wrote it because it happened inside me.
Because the moment didn't leave when the
room did.
Because my body kept the timestamp.
Because the silence was louder than the
truth.
Because I can't unsee what I learned.
Because I remember the way it felt in my
chest.
Because "fine" is just a cover page.
Because the trigger doesn't ask permission.
Because the past shows up like it still pays
rent.
Because I'm still here — even when I'm not
okay.
Because I'm not asking to be saved.
I'm asking to be real.
And I'm done shrinking my voice to make it
easier.
• • •
The only moments of sanity come
when I'm tagging along with the woes I cry.
217
Rivers of Meanings
Let's fly away, into a world where the only
meaning is you and
me.
Let's journey together, seeking a place
where our worth is not
just measured, but felt,
where trembling hands craft a melody of
range and beauty,
borne in the glow of fleeting social
connections.
I'm learning to stand firm,
my confidence rising like a quiet tide—
yet, in this world, greed wears the crown,
a bestseller in the marketplace of life.
It promises riches, but leaves hearts empty.
Meanwhile, the notion of giving—pure and
unadorned—
sings the tale of those who live too brightly
and fade too soon,
their light extinguished before it ever fades.
These two forces, like rivers, flow toward
218
the same ocean,
bound by a shared current,
yet each one carries a different weight.
One seeks to consume.
The other to nourish.
And still, they meet in the same sea,
as if it was always meant to be this way.
Both vital, both contrasting—
219
but what are we to do
when the world insists we choose one path,
and yet both are written in our blood?
Just trying to find inner strength in the
happiness of my
purpose.
Let's just keep rowing, ya?
"Process the past like it's the last thing left
to do before its time
here is done.
Forgive, forget,
220
prosper—as they eat the hate that
once tried to
spread to you.
Become the new norm, protecting your
prosperity.
It's a sinful life,
but not a sinful lifestyle."
the lost soul.
I've traveled through countless storms,
wishing each rainfall would cease,
dreading the downpour's catastrophic toll,
yet holding firm in purpose and poise.
• • •
The purity that bears this wreckage
is the heart within my soul.
221
Cutting ties
This city girl—
yikes, grab a knife and cut it off.
I don't play with being robbed.
Oh, that's an amazing line for a song:
The Benefit of Reincarnation.
People, shut up.
What good does speaking bring, when
action is the goal?
Quietly, we make it happen, remembering
the role.
But again, let's not and say we did,
so the presumption of others becomes that
Disney classic bid:
"I'm a real boy."
222
I volunteered for consideration—
let that sink in.
Remarkably, I saw three steps ahead,
watched the show lose its grip, focus, and
core.
Now, see how this season plays out—
its ending will enlighten the audience,
showing truth on the
ground.
Your cries and lies,
the best satire of all time.
223
I am the king of my restless kingdom,
yet captive to my own guilt.
I fought for this throne,
a bloody, shameless man,
fueled by demonic rage.
Revealing the dark sorcery that lies within
brotherhood.
This is my kingdom come,
not the twisted workings of your domain.
Try me.
They gotta talk to you nicely.
Life laughs as you were told its joyfulness
will bring prosperity
and carry your grace.
It is a life lesson to continue life's ignorance
and find peace—
embrace the extraordinary.
224
Love is something
that makes us feel the happiest alive,
but it can lie.
When you think you've found someone,
yet you're left trying to forget.
Days slip by,
and still, you miss them.
You sit in the past,
letting it mold your well-being.
What's the better in yourself?
Who you were then?
Nothing, actually.
Tell yourself you're reborn.
Try to understand,
when our faults betray us as we try,
caring too much.
The heart becomes bigger than our
thoughts.
To those who try to help,
fighting not to push back,
you'll return stronger.
225
226
Why do people enter and exit his life
with no regard, no lasting trace?
The day of the parade was dark, heavy,
clouds weighing the sky like a secret never
told.
They all thought he had control,
assumed it, as if his silence was a sign of
strength.
But they didn't know.
He reflects on a time,
a moment that cracked him wide open,
changing him in ways that can't be undone.
227
The band-aid on his soul—
it never healed, just covered up the
wound,
pretending to be enough.
Now, he's left to wonder:
Can he be strong enough to face it all,
or is the weight too much to carry?
• • •
But this buffet doesn't serve
endless platters of inferiority.
228
No. This is a feast of instant karma—
served hot.
Love burns bones.
Love drains my soul, heart, body,
mixing with the water of my teardrops.
• • •
Jaded
My mind is blank—
229
If I was
If I was fragile like a flower,
I'd have a lot of trouble finding my way.
If I was fragile like a bomb,
I'd have no trouble finding my way.
Carry yourself with the best intentions.
230
Don't always somber—
simmer.
Brush off?
It's like saying,
"He's the boy who cries wolf,"
cresting a world of darkness and
suffering—
that needs no introduction.
the cost of return
If I had a dollar for every time someone left
my life,
I would be a billionaire.
If I had a dollar for every time they left and
came back,
I would have nothing.
Because absence has value.
But return—return costs me everything.
The reopening of doors, the relearning of
faces,
the forced familiarity of people who once
chose to disappear.
They call it fight or flight,
231
but no one asks what happens
to the one left standing still.
And now he's back.
Not because he missed me,
not because he realized what I was worth,
but because a mutual stranger reminded
him I exist.
232
Funny how that works.
How my name lingers in rooms I've
never stepped into.
How I can be called crazy in one breath,
and a good man in the
next.
How people rewrite the past to make
their return easier,
as if I don't remember the weight of
their leaving.
• • •
Let them call me what they will.
233
I've been left enough to know the
difference
between those who return out of love
and those who return out of
convenience.
And I am done paying the cost.
234
This path was never just about survival—
it was a reckoning, a shift in power.
No longer bound by the past,
he moves in harmony with a force greater
than himself,
sketching a universe where his roads lead
forward,
where his story ascends toward its climax.
The ghosts of yesterday whisper,
but he is no longer their captive.
235
What once held him down—
the regrets, the burdens, the numbing
escape—
now fuel his rise.
He works through the cons of his past,
forging them into the pros of his future.
If today is not the hardest,
imagine tomorrow.
236
Yet the weight still lingers—
the pull of old habits, the temptation of
escape.
The world moves,
but he stands at the crossroads,
memories chaining him to the stillness.
Who decides his fate?
Who writes his story now?
If today is not the hardest,
imagine tomorrow.
His safety wavers, his shelter uncertain.
A helper turned captor,
a conflict he longs to escape.
Is this a trial of self-will,
or a test of surrender?
237
I can sit there—
give you everything.
Knowledge, hands that help,
even a roof when storms hit.
And what did you do?
238
So next time you run miles
thinking I won't notice—
remember who built the road.
And me?
I just sit back.
239
He fed every mouth
with pieces of soul—
til nothing was left
but a smile-shaped hole.
• • •
And one day he snapped—
a crack in the grace.
240
No blood on his hands—
just a note: "Release."
The moral is cruel,
but listen, take care:
• • •
built walls out of broken promises, and
crowned my
pain so it would kneel to me.
• • •
What once controlled me now answers to
my name."
241
Getting used to a new custom—
built by the version of me
that dares to seek a better self—
feels like betrayal
pressed deeper
into the spine I used to trust.
Familiar rituals, once comforting,
now ache like borrowed sins.
• • •
Hopeful beginnings
have made me
• • •
Of the storm he'd serve
on porcelain silence.
• • •
Ever hear yourself
walk away from your body?
• • •
Yeah—
242
that's the first sign
• • •
Your evil spell
was no match for my intelligence.
243
The Syllabus of Existing
Oh, the grand cosmic joke we keep
trying to annotate like it's
some holy textbook—
we spend our days decoding meaning
like it's buried treasure.
But darling, if we're all still searching,
doesn't that prove the
damn thing matters?
Case closed, your honor. Haha. Life.
Baby!
Memories?
244
They're not just warm fuzzies and vintage
filters—
they're granite statues we polish with our
pain,
staircases we crawl up in socks full of holes,
each step a museum of almosts and
could've-beens.
And the coursework? Oh, exquisite hell!
A curriculum custom-tailored by the
universe's drunkest
professor—
equal parts heartbreak and glitter,
a syllabus titled:
"Advanced Emotional Acrobatics:
Surviving This Joke We
Call Existence."
No cheat codes. Just vibes.
Haha. Life, baby.
You'll Figure It Out. Sure.
Power move.
Pretend to have a plan.
Cue the usual chaos.
245
246
Melancholy with a soundtrack—
tragedy scored in minor key,
wrapped in poetic nonsense.
Every breakdown gets its own climax.
Every heartbreak, a metaphor.
Cute.
And in the end?
It's all just ironic noise.
Suffering with punchlines.
Satire in slow motion.
• • •
But hey—
you'll figure it out.
• • •
Funny how the lie starts sounding wise
when you've heard it enough.
247
Time: The Gift That Keeps Screaming
It doesn't just whisper its secrets.
It slams down on the table like an old
friend who's had too
much to drink—
a few scars, some bruised memories,
and just enough bitterness to leave you
wondering
if you ever really knew who you were.
The gift it leaves behind isn't wrapped in
ribbons;
it's the kind of gift that keeps you up at
night,
scratching at wounds you thought had
healed.
A cruel joke dressed as an opportunity.
It demands your full attention,
but offers nothing in return.
Every moment a test you never signed up
for,
every lesson a burden,
and yet you're expected to smile and
248
pretend
you don't feel the weight of the world
pressing down on your chest.
Patience is a mantra,
but the clock keeps ticking faster,
mocking you with each tick.
And all you're left with is the illusion of
control.
It takes your failures,
249
wraps them up in shiny new packaging,
and dares you to open it again.
This time, it's got a new twist—
a fresh heartbreak, a strange phone call,
maybe even a whole new mess of things
to untangle.
You can't escape it,
no matter how many lessons you think
you've learned.
• • •
And this time—
it sounds like the last one.
250
(The setting is a dimly lit room, where the
protagonist, perhaps
a version of yourself,
sits
at a
desk, scribbling down thoughts in a
notebook. Outside, rain
taps against the window, but
the
character's gaze is fixed inward. The script
should embody the
chaotic blend of freedom
and
constraint that the character experiences.)
251
(laughing dryly to themselves)
You ever wonder if life's just one big joke
we've all been too
afraid to laugh at? Maybe
it's the
punchline we missed years ago, buried
under all the
expectations and little lies we told
ourselves. You know the ones. The ones
where we convinced
ourselves we had it all
figured
out, when in reality, we were just stumbling
around, tripping
over our own damn
thoughts.
(Pauses, scribbles in notebook, then
reflects aloud with a
smirk)
Funny how we try so hard to make sense of
things that were
never meant to make
252
sense.
People talk about "the meaning of life," but
I'm pretty sure
that's just some cosmic
riddle
made
up by bored gods. The truth? We're all just
pieces in some
messed-up puzzle, and no
253
one
bothered to give us the instructions.
(The character leans back in the chair,
glancing at their
reflection in the window)
I remember when I used to believe in
something. Hope,
maybe? Yeah, that sounds
about right.
The funny thing about hope is… it doesn't
warn you when it's
about to slap you across
the face.
One moment, you're holding on to a dream,
and the next, it's
crashing into a wall,
breaking into
shards that you have to pick up, piece by
shattered piece.
(A sigh, followed by a cold smile)
But who needs hope, right? It's overrated.
Like a cheap
254
cologne trying to cover up the
stench of
regret. And I've got enough of that to fill a
whole damn
warehouse.
(Pauses, stares out the window, rain now heavier)
So, what do I do? Sit here and wallow?
Nah. The best thing
I've learned is that time
doesn't care
255
Hope flickers—
but it always fades.
And so do I,
into the grayness of another night.
The echoes of what I could have been,
fading with every drop that hits the
ground.
256
Still searching
I search for meaning,
but all I find are questions.
I search for peace,
but all I find is noise.
Maybe the answers don't matter,
maybe the search does.
So I keep searching,
through the haze,
through the noise,
wondering if I'll ever find what I'm looking
for—
or if it even matters.
• • •
And I listen—
even when there's nothing left to say.
257
"I don't want to fight anymore,"
I whispered, more
to myself than to him. "I'm tired."
"You're not tired," he said, his voice
softening, but not with
compassion—more like
understanding. "You're numb. You've let
the trauma define
you, let it write your story for
you.
• • •
An Inconvenient Attachment (Final Edited
Poems)
258
No matter the reason—
if you ever have to let go,
just remember:
grace has your back,
and courage
is slowly
coming.
• • •
I'm at a standstill
inside someone else's life.
• • •
If I called you my home…
• • •
Maybe what's best
isn't always best.
259
• • •
And what's real
isn't always fake.
• • •
Know your mind
before your heart
260
Unnecessary dwelling
turns nerves into prisons—
thinking about what could happen.
"It's okay."
It's not okay.
Stuck.
"He's alright."
• • •
No—
he's surviving.
• • •
Take my heart—
• • •
Take my heart—
261
sell it to the man outside.
• • •
Torn into pieces—
rebuild it into someone else.
• • •
Take my body—
all I needed was you.
• • •
But you chose
the man downtown.
• • •
And I keep forgetting—
the life I have now
• • •
I am so much better off
without you.
• • •
But I look back now
and I see the wars I survived.
262
• • •
Learning experiences
made the new me.
• • •
I'm happy—
stronger after losing myself.
• • •
And today…
I found me again.
• • •
When I sit and reflect
• • •
I'll give this chapter
a title later.
• • •
Listen to your heart
only if it leads you
263
I'm the master of my sea—
tired, lonely,
building a destiny,
letting go of the past.
His emotions are stone.
Not a single teardrop.
Not a single smile.
Not a single crack in the mask.
• • •
Hard-headed—
unfinished tasks,
• • •
A mind as loud
as rush hour traffic,
• • •
Like he doesn't even know
what relaxation means.
264
So he cries
to the ones who've known him
since the day his heart
learned how to beat.
• • •
Not even a smile
can make him feel loved.
• • •
Just the same crowd
that belittles him,
265
But now—
he wants his life back.
His choices.
His path.
I'll say it again:
no one is saving him
but himself.
• • •
Cutting off the ones
who hurt him.
• • •
He's changing again.
266
And once again—
the bad days return.
But he doesn't understand:
those days are growth
in disguise.
267
Like he hasn't already
been through enough.
Here we go again.
Straight to the point.
No mystery in sight.
• • •
A rush for love—
simple, impulsive,
• • •
A mind as chaotic
as rush hour traffic.
268
He's stuck in a
"stay with me" mood—
as if he doesn't know
his life matters more
than the rush of love.
269
Here comes the melody again—
that "stay with me" kind of song.
• • •
This is where it gets deeper—
270
Your mind tries to settle
for what your heart feels.
Ignorance is bliss.
So is hurting yourself.
• • •
Remember—
you're a phenomenon
• • •
Wondering…
• • •
Trying to find the part of me
I lost tonight.
271
• • •
Listening to the ones
who speak in poison
• • •
Are they trying to warn you—
or trying to hurt you?
• • •
How do I say this
without sounding desperate?
• • •
Love hijacks
my peace.
• • •
I want to build a life—
share my moments,
• • •
But I'm always in battle
with the ghosts
• • •
272
I need you
• • •
Afraid…
• • •
Afraid
of losing myself.
• • •
Afraid
unconditional love
• • •
Happy days.
• • •
The first sign
• • •
Asking "too tough" questions
to your lover—
273
Living every day
by the seconds—
not by minutes,
not by hours.
Once that second is gone,
you can't take it back.
• • •
We try our best
• • •
To hold the things we love
close to the heart.
• • •
By your side
or miles away—
274
• • •
Just a simple act
in return.
• • •
I woke up ashore—
confused,
• • •
I couldn't stand
the concept of
• • •
Some days
we want it all to end.
• • •
But imagine being close
to the light…
• • •
Turn the sadness down
just a notch.
• • •
275
They never said
love would make me feel
• • •
It's okay to weep
• • •
It's okay to run
from the thought of them.
276
Remember—
I've always said
love is unexpected.
It's supposed to stay.
It's not supposed to end.
• • •
You fight for it…
if you want it.
277
The hardest part
about loving someone
is this—
you're always waiting
for the ending.
But no one's perfect.
Not even you.
Remember that.
But what do you know?
• • •
They say we dig our own graves.
• • •
Imagine letting someone
dig it for you.
Yeah.
That's me right now.
• • •
But in reality—
they don't want your help.
278
And wanting to express feelings
when you already know it won't matter…
that's what it means
to bleed for love.
• • •
Shattered heart—
• • •
Leaving you—
leaving the memories.
279
When you leave,
everything turns into a mess.
When the end is near,
life becomes a wreck.
Turmoil.
Not knowing where to go.
Not knowing where to find the light.
280
So you sit back in the flood—
streams pouring down
after something horrific.
Still resisting the truth.
• • •
Still wanting you back…
but knowing deep down
• • •
Not after the actions you showed
once it was over.
281
Getting back out
is so hard.
The insecurities return.
The doubts come faster.
Self-respect disappears.
Shaky body.
Bleeding heart.
282
Sworn into a negative mental state—
we don't process heartbreak
• • •
Some forget for weeks.
• • •
Some forget for a moment…
and don't realize it
• • •
Goodnight…
for now.
• • •
283
A new start—
one step
• • •
Never be afraid
• • •
Creating a new path…
284
Tomorrow—
hold this close:
It's going to be okay.
Journeys we face every day.
Obstacles we don't understand yet.
Striving through the mystery.
It might not be easy.
It might not be the path you wanted.
It's new.
It's scary.
• • •
But take this part
and watch what you can do.
• • •
Strive to learn
• • •
There's always a first
for everything.
285
Because love hurts
when you keep pouring it in—
ignoring the truth
that it couldn't last.
• • •
Letting the feelings feel
more important
• • •
Big-hearted—
to the point where small things
• • •
Trying to relax…
286
but never able to forget.
• • •
I don't know if feelings
• • •
They feel
too
• • •
Don't sit there
• • •
Don't ignore the past—
look at how deep the ditch was.
• • •
To the point of no solutions—
so you jump
• • •
Because I see it now—
there's more above.
• • •
Love is the thing
287
that makes us feel
• • •
It didn't end
the way it was supposed to.
• • •
So…
Start a new chapter.
288
Because not acting like the old
you
is proof you're changing—
even if it doesn't feel like it yet.
Tell yourself you're new,
because trying to understand everything
until you feel like nothing…
that's how we lose ourselves.
• • •
Our faults fail us
when we care too much.
289
Our heart
is bigger than our thoughts.
And when people try to help,
we try too hard
not to fight back.
• • •
But when all is done—
you come back.
290
Because thoughts are easily
crushed
when you're listening to everyone else…
and the truth is—
the truth hurts.
• • •
Life is about balance.
• • •
But it will end
the way you want it to—
• • •
Don't come at me
with ignorance.
291
• • •
Who we become
is a reflection of the past.
• • •
That doesn't mean
it's your place to judge.
• • •
Ignorance is an unattractive quality—
it makes people forget
• • •
And more importantly—
we sell our lust.
292
I mean…
this repeating process—
feeling like nothing—
isn't something
we need tomorrow.
• • •
Birds chirping…
how beautiful
• • •
Remember—
lust is one thing.
• • •
But feeling worthy…
293
that's something deeper.
• • •
It's okay to move on
from the feeling of not being loved.
• • •
This world is full of journeys
you have to walk alone.
• • •
Sometimes I wonder—
why do we get so mad at ourselves?
• • •
The mind gets so worked up
that everyone around you
• • •
Be sorry to the ones
who truly tried to help.
• • •
But don't be sorry
to the ones who created
294
• • •
And don't settle
for what the mind feels.
• • •
Two completely different truths—
and one of them
• • •
The kind that sees obstacles
before they arrive.
• • •
You were my stigma—
my everyday thought.
• • •
I never knew love
could turn into this.
295
Unexamined emotions beyond love—
nothing I see, nothing I feel
• • •
My irreplaceable knight…
I love you."
• • •
An aura shining
• • •
Your voice—
your truth—
• • •
296
But what if I told you
this isn't about what you want?
• • •
What if I told you
it's about what you leave behind.
• • •
Scars don't heal—
not the real ones.
• • •
So be careful
what you judge.
297
A mind trapped in the unknown—
shadows following deep sadness,
creeping above the water.
• • •
And then it pours—
like a waterfall.
• • •
A change we all want…
but the mind can't hold.
• • •
The art of loving someone…
• • •
298
One person
can turn it into
• • •
Love shouldn't feel
like a mental illness.
• • •
But still—
we fight
• • •
Love you.
299
But tomorrow—
for now—
it's your road.
Follow it.
…it will be okay.
• • •
When life takes a turn,
• • •
There's always something great
over the horizon.
• • •
When life takes a turn—
don't turn back.
300
• • •
Inner thoughts—
unspeakable emotions.
301
A war inside an innocent mind—
emotions of the unknown
slamming into me
like a wrecking ball.
Loneliness.
Sadness.
302
The battle of an innocent mind—
the unseen emotions
of the unknown.
Stuck behind the scenes,
watching things I don't understand—
watching things that make me angry.
• • •
Crying streams—
not tears.
• • •
The sadness behind the scenes
of the unknown.
I want love.
I want a mistake.
303
I want a small breakup—
something that ends us gently.
But no.
Still stuck behind the scenes,
seeing things
I don't know.
304
That continues us…
but no—
still stuck behind the scenes,
seeing things
I don't know.
• • •
Take my heart—
• • •
Take my heart—
sell it to the man outside.
• • •
Torn into pieces—
305
rebuild it into someone else.
• • •
Take my body—
all I needed was you.
• • •
But you chose
the man downtown.
• • •
I'm trying to breathe—
performing a scene,
• • •
Sleeping next to me
with that smile—
• • •
You left me
nothing
• • •
I heard you once say
I was your everything.
306
• • •
But I also heard you say
I was your charm.
• • •
And now…
something's in the air.
• • •
You didn't know…
but I did.
• • •
Silence is what I need
• • •
Silence is what I need
from everyone right now.
• • •
I've got this…
somehow.
• • •
So choose the path
you want to follow.
307
• • •
The easy way out
isn't always the best.
• • •
He went from friends to lust…
• • •
Someone he loves
deeply.
• • •
But when you cross
lust and friendship,
• • •
But somehow…
he's got this.
Love is one thing.
Friendship is another.
308
He might feel like a flipped car
still spinning in the road.
But he knows one thing:
Help is on the way.
309
Restless nights are ahead of him.
I didn't write this to be understood.
I wrote it because it happened inside me.
Because the moment didn't leave when the
room did.
Because my body kept the timestamp.
Because the silence was louder than the
truth.
Because I can't unsee what I learned.
Because I remember the way it felt in my
chest.
Because "fine" is just a cover page.
Because the trigger doesn't ask permission.
Because the past shows up like it still pays
rent.
Because I'm still here — even when I'm not
okay.
Because I'm not asking to be saved.
I'm asking to be real.
And I'm done shrinking my voice to make it
easier.
• • •
Rushing thoughts
that won't slow down
• • •
Like he can't catch the break
he's always wanted.
310
311
A chapter that drags itself
into the new year.
They say, "New year, new me."
Just not for him.
Restless nights are upon him.
And he will fight.
He doesn't need an army.
He doesn't need an audience.
• • •
He needs to feel like he's got this—
without you,
312
That is him surviving trauma—
trying to feel less insane.
"To those who gave him the world
when he didn't know a single thing…
for decades—
you are the reason.
• • •
You take me places
beyond my expectations.
• • •
You're the one
who grabs me by my feet—
• • •
You're the one
who steals my lips.
313
• • •
You're the one
who drags me along
• • •
You're the one
who takes my heart
• • •
You're the one
I run the runway with.
• • •
All you do is steal me away…
just to make me happy.
• • •
Where are you?
• • •
I'm trying to figure out
what I want to do.
• • •
Tick.
• • •
314
I'm done
with the single life.
• • •
I want my heart
to feel warm again.
• • •
I don't even know…
I'm praying
for the day
I feel love.
• • •
But I can't stop feeling like
I lost it.
• • •
It was a nice season.
315
The first day we met—
my stomach opened up
with a billion butterflies.
A feeling like no other.
• • •
It lasted…
until winter came.
• • •
Backstabber.
• • •
My body hurts
from all the pricks
• • •
316
Trying to win your heart back…
Move on, please.
• • •
It happens.
• • •
Don't lose yourself
in the making of this.
• • •
They said you could love someone
through all their faults…
but not this time.
• • •
Sometimes a laugh helps.
• • •
Chapter Two
• • •
Deep end—
• • •
I lost everything
about me.
317
• • •
My hormones
shoot off like fireworks.
• • •
A flock of butterflies
swarm my stomach—
• • •
Even better…
I feel loved.
• • •
Sex with you.
• • •
A hummingbird heart—
fluttering
• • •
The blackest days
• • •
I miss the days
when the birds chirped.
318
• • •
I miss the days
when everything
• • •
Nothing seems too off…
So what happened to you?
• • •
I looked at myself
and realized—
this is the world
of the unknown.
• • •
It hits on days
it shouldn't.
319
And I get barricaded
into deep darkness—
nothing but sadness,
nothing but hatred
toward others…
like…
I get it.
Your past is your past.
It makes you stronger, wiser, confident—
so why can't it also
make you feel at ease
when it creeps back in?
320
I don't understand
how someone who does wrong
gets rewarded so well…
while someone who does good
doesn't even get noticed.
• • •
I don't care who you are.
• • •
Try…
• • •
I listen
to the sound of your voice.
• • •
321
I listen
to the sound of your voice…
322
I can't even hear
the key to success—
only the sound
of me chasing it.
Can you leave already?
• • •
And I'm mean—
not because of them…
• • •
Then I think—
oh wow.
• • •
323
It's you…
bringing out the old me.
• • •
Just take it in—
324
I need to learn
how to embrace compliments.
I hear them every day.
On a continuous basis,
they say the words…
but I never truly feel
the truth inside.
• • •
Forgive and forget…
• • •
I can't always forget
the ones who left scars.
• • •
But I can forgive
the ones who left bruises.
325
• • •
And now I know—
it's not you.
• • •
I expressed the needs I needed—
• • •
Like blank spaces
were normal.
• • •
But then again…
I'd give you my last breath
• • •
Started young—
when the world felt newborn.
• • •
Searching for fillers
for my empty spaces.
• • •
Karma is a silent change—
326
always dragging your past
• • •
Change your ways.
• • •
Not too much—
just bit by bit.
• • •
The future only continues
when you fix
• • •
Like I can't leave
a single moment
• • •
Dwelling on old thoughts
while trying to move forward.
• • •
Completely over it.
• • •
An inner lie—
327
one I keep working on.
• • •
Then again…
a daily reminder:
• • •
Snapchat — Vincentmagnani
328
Just remember—
…And when the truth finally speaks, it
won't whisper.
• • •
Breath and Ache
I built storms in other people's skies,
329
Halos on trembling hands for months—
practicing calm,
forgetting the thunder I once threw.
The shadows return.
Faces flicker through reflection.
330
I've buried enough versions of
myself
to know how to mourn without a storm.
…I didn't ask for thunder,
or pity in puddles.
Some deaths deserve silence.
Anyways.
• • •
And He Sings Frank Sinatra
It's funny how life got so serious.
• • •
The kings of Bloody Mary tried to destroy
the same
prophet
331
332
It's funny how life got so serious—
but I was the only one tip-toeing around
the marigolds,
• • •
It's funny how life got serious…
And he sings Frank Sinatra: That's Life.
333
Threshold of Blacklight
I get close to the air of your untouched
company—
targeted, blistered,
in the blackouts of daylight sun.
You came for misery like it was theater,
but I'm not your matinee.
• • •
The walk away
Sunday, July 23, 2023
334
once it's called again
Sunday, July 23, 2023
When the world is walking into you.
Your type of emotional response.
The mask of resentments.
Is the unintentional ignorance of the truth
that you are
masking?
Now you're on a window display for the
actions of judgment,
to self-destruct.
the daily routine of trying to figure out to
clear the scar of a
once traumatic event
makes
you feel like world is saying a big
f*ck you
• • •
Sunday, July 23, 2023
Dogs or cats?
Were dogs now cats!
335
336
✦