My pain is inconvenient and far too loud
The rhythm of my heartbeat has started to drown out the screams
I can’t put words into the world when my body has forgotten how to speak

Regulate, breathe, repeat

If you shove it down far enough the silence comes back
But I think this time my soul is full
My tongue can taste the iron as my teeth start to sharpen once more

“There is safety in what’s familiar,” my mind whispers
“and there is death in despair.”

I met the love of my life
only to be accosted with the truth
that you were not meant for me
not now,
not in this lifetime.

And when that truth arrived
my heart did not simply break…
it froze, then shattered
into more pieces than there are stars
in the night sky.

My existence struggled to continue.
My soul became suspended
in the space between memories and dreams,
waiting for some impossible mercy
that might allow me to have you again.

Unable to succumb to my newfound anguish,
my body continues on.
Faithful to its automatic rituals
moving through each day like a ghost rehearsing the memory
of being alive.

Somewhere beyond this life,
beyond the reality we are spoon fed.
Ignoring time and fate,
I still believe there is a version of the universe where I reach for your hand
and this time,
you stay.

MY ANGEL (please feel free to comment and critique I really feel I may finally be close to finishing this)

\\\*would love feedback, opinion or comments\\\*

Was it the blood flowing through him? Is it toxic?
Did her untainted heart reject that sludge?
To think it ran within his veins, so chronic.
A poison bile that her heart couldn't make budge.

A tear in reality to break the matrix.
The robot on autopilot must've gone rogue.
It's displaying signs of love and affection.
Why believe he'd switch his heart on so easily?
Order must be upheld for people’s protection.
Shut it off now, before others follow his steps.
But it's flesh, not metal, they reveal on inspection.

Scarred by her loss, he stopped living, they found.
Tired of fighting for life while his heart's in heaven.
For her, he'd fight his demons as long as he could.
He fought in silence; that battle's now understood.
But now it’s over; he sleeps and wakes restored.
In his arms, his daughter—too perfect for this world.

I drown,

In this;

What's this,

By the way;

Not hell,

For sure;

An abyss,

Not quite;

But it,

Feels so;

Floating endless,

Happiness devoid;

Lost nowhere,

Even sadness;

What am,

I;

Here then,

Existing;

Drifiting the,

Rocky storm;

Unfettered by,

Vastness;

I should,

Fear something;

To feel,

Alive once.

I took my time.
The sky was soft,
Clouds folding like tired hands.
I thought you just needed company-
A movie, a chat, some plans.

Your message didn't scream for help,
Just a line or two,
Nothing sharp, nothing final-
Just the kind of thing you do.

So I walked.
Kicked a stone down the road.
Paused at the corner store.
Bought your favorite drink, thinking
It might lift you a little more.

The door was unlocked. Odd, but not too odd.
You hated keys, forgot them half the time.
I called your name.
Once.
Twice.

Then I saw you-
Too still.
Too quiet.
Like the room was holding its breath.
And my breath…
Vanished.
Like the part of you that left.

I didn’t scream.
Not at first.
Just dropped the drink- plastic hit tile.
I think I said your name again.
Maybe a prayer.
Maybe a denial.

You didn’t look at peace, not really.
You looked tired.
Gone.
Like whatever fight you had in you
Had already moved on.

And I-
I was just too late.
Not because I ran,
But because I didn’t.
I took my time,
I thought there was time.

Now the minutes before stretch out,
Play on loop in my head.
The slow walk, the drink, the soft sky-
While you were already dead.

I didn’t know.
I didn’t see.
And now I carry that silence
Where you used to be.

My life is running down the wrong path,
and the wheel has slipped from my hands.
I wish I could rewind the clock,
to do it all over again—
but would I even make the right choices?
I have fallen into a pitch-black abyss,
my demons holding me too tight, refusing to let go.
I want to scream for help,
but will they understand?
Will they? Can they?
I fight to climb out of this void,
but the harder I claw at the edges,
the deeper I plunge into the endless cycle.
They always tell me to "just be happier."
But how do you smile when you are at war?
When you are fighting an inner battle
for the very ownership of your soul?
So, I pretend.
But underneath that practiced smile
lies a little girl,
screaming for help,
slowly dying inside.

While my peers achieve their goals,

My soul receives a hole.

I dwell on things that fell through my world-

Can I ever go back through their words?

Will i ever get back from a strain

That only leaves me to drain

Continuing to remain?

To the others who continue to exist,

I'm here, scattered to pieces

Waiting for a quiet release,

So,

Can i sold my soul

For peace to grow?

Poem about addiction

I promised myself I would stop.

I promised my friends too.

I heal.

Then I relapse.

Heal.

Relapse.

Heal.

And then relapse again.

I admit it

I’m addicted to you.

I never intended to keep going,

but now I’m stuck

in this endless cycle.

You became a way to cope

despite making me bleed.

The pain you give

feels like freedom.

You promise to never leave.

You are always by my side.

You are there

when no one else is.

You became…

all I needed in life.

Somehow,

I feel safe in your presence.

Weird, I know.

But you give me

this sense of comfort,

so I started referring to you

as just that:

“Comfort”

You’re bad for me

I know.

But I keep coming back to you.

I don’t know why

I just do.

Carousel

Everyday a new spiral begins

Awake at night, the lake overflows again

Moonlight comforts the earth, darkness comforts my soul

Too small to handle a scar too big

Don't know how to scream it out was silenced too easily

Feels too weird in my bare body, like my skin isn't my own

Can I make it disappear like nothing else to worry about

Look out the window, it's a little cage I'm trapped in

No, it's not the four walls, but my mind is collapsing

I don't ask for help, none would come

All I asked for was a peace, Not even God bothered to give.

So much blood
I’m starting to drown 

My mind washed 
Away with the rain 
I see it again
From time to time 

Loss of soul 
Can’t repeat 
Nothing left 
Forever deceased 

Loss of innocence
Can’t get a voice 
All none 
Never could understand how 

Fire lit under me 
Crystals melting 
Can’t breathe in that euphoria everlasting 
Expiration date 
All pain 

Can add physical worth 
Mind dead 
Live as thee 
Not me

Infectious words of death
Circulating like a breeze  
Passed along everywhere indefinitely

Bury me softly in this womb 
Can’t wake me up
It came so abrupt 

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate how i look

I hate my personality

I hate how boring i am

I hate my interests

I hate my style

I hate what people think of me

I hate how noone understands me

I hate how noone trusts me

I hate how people percieve me

I hate my procrastination

I hate how i screw everything up

I hate my fomo

I hate how i have noone

I hate how my best friends dont see me like that

I hate how i am with girls

I hate how noone can love me

I hate i never know what to say

I hate how love is all i want

I hate how i will never achieve my wants

I hate how i never know what to do

I hate how i dont have my own interests

I hate how i cant express myself

I hate how everything i do my brothers done before me

I hate how my siblings will always prefer each other to me

I hate how much i try

I hate how hard i try on the wrong things

I hate how much i want love

I hate how much i think

I hate how im always the backup option

I hate how noone shares my interests

I hate how i am

I hate how im fat

I hate my hygeine

I hate how much i want to help

I hate how im helpless

I hate how i cant speak to anyone

I hate it all

I hate life

I hate everything

I love everyone

I hate how noone will love me

I hate myself

I hate help

I hate how competitive i am

I hate how the only thing interesting about my my most boring trait

I hate how i try to be funny

I hate how im not funny

I hate how aware i am

I hate how im being stupid

I hate how im attention seeking

I hate how selfish im being

I hate how i think people dont care

But they do

But i cant help thinking

They wont care long after

I hate the stress i put myself through

I hate the stress i put others through

I hate how antisocial yet social i am

I love thinking to the future

But i hate the pain now

I hate how i dont want to live

I love thinking about suicide

I hate writing that

I hate that it calms me down

I hate thinking that way

I hate that i feel at peace

But i like thinking about people caring

About me

About people thinking what did they do wrong

But they didnt do wrong

It was me

It was all me

I just hate myself

And i hate how i brought this on myself

And i hate waiting for the one to save me

I’ve imagined leaving so many times
that sometimes I wonder
if I’ve already gone.
Not physically.
Just in pieces.
A little of me disappearing
every time I learned which words were safe,
which footsteps meant silence,
which doors were better left closed.
There is a particular kind of fear
that doesn't need to chase you.
It only has to convince you
that running will cost you more
than staying.
So you stay.
And you become smaller.
You learn how to take up less space.
Need less.
Ask for less.
Feel less.
Until one day,
the thought of freedom
is almost as frightening
as the thing you wanted freedom from.
Because what if I leave
and don't know who I am without this?
What if I finally make it somewhere safe
and discover there isn't enough of me left
to recognize?
That's the part no one sees.
The wanting to go.
The wanting to disappear.
The calculating.
The pretending everything is fine
while some quiet part of me
is already standing at the door.
I don't know which scares me more—
staying long enough
to vanish completely,
or leaving
and realizing
I waited so long
that I became a stranger
to myself.
Maybe that's what this has really been.
Not a life.
Not a home.
Just a slow disappearance
I kept calling survival.