bleeding on paper

i hate you

for what you did.

and yet, i

crave your approval.

growing to be you

is my darkest fear

and yet.

and yet i desperately

try to convince myself

that the sparks you feed me,

the small sparks of hope

that briefly light

my darkness,

is family.

is normal.

is what love

is supposed to be.

i hate you, mom. 

i’m not supposed to.

i know that.

but no should

is gonna remove it.

right?

the dull, everlasting ache

in my knees and hips.

do you remember?

i do.

each time you

slammed me against a wall

each time you

forced me onto my knees.

no should is gonna remove

the way i

flinch at movements unforeseen

hear my name though no one called

i feel a knife twist in my heart

when i see fathers, mothers

with their little kids.

their mutual care is

something i envy

and something i craved

because lying to

teachers, therapists, bad people

is normal.

Quick note: I based this poem (loosely) on the vibes of Sleeping At Last’s 'Mercury'. Go listen to the song, it's great. Also, a sorry to my five followers for posting nothing the past few weeks, busy with finals shit and ✨ fuckass family shit ✨

i love the hour

of dawn.

i love the silence

before the storm,

when the city’s still

sound asleep,

and my only spectators

are the streetlights.

i need to find myself

before i fade away.

in the silence of

daybreak, i can think.

here, it all slows down to

one moment, one choice

my finger hovering above

the send button.

somehow, i have

fallen in love with you,

something quite unforeseen

but yet so profound.

when and wherever you want,

i'll go with you.

i've been holding on to

everything that makes life life

throughout my life, i've been 

whiteknuckling my way.

holding on to everything, 

because i don't know life without 

all of my problems 

all of my burdens 

but what if the only way

i get to truly live, is to let go?

released the control and

let you take away all i clung to?

would i see, truly, the

precious metals

hidden beneath the surface of

this seemingly rotten life?

--------------------------

God, let me be

like david.

david wasn’t

strong or powerful.

his goliath would have

smashed him if david

was alone.

just as mine

is pulverizing me

right now.

but what ensured

his victory, was how

he blindly trusted in You.

i want- no, need that

faith, please help me to

trust you overcome my battles.

my addiction will ruin me if

You don’t take it over.

i surrender, God.

yours is the kingdom,

yours is the power,

and yours is the glory

forever

a little girl once

thought that her lover

would be like her daddy.

because that’s how

grown-ups loved,

she thought.

a woman who screamed at

a man who didn’t care for

their kids.

she wasn’t sure if

all that arguing

and violence

was what she wanted.

she wanted to be a

lion tamer

or singer

or actor.

something that made

people stop

and look, listen

and think:

“wow, that woman

is who i want to be like.”

she wanted to be seen

as fearless, as brave.

so she hid her fears.

she started closing her

bedroom door, because

big kids weren’t scared

of the dark.

she started to stand

up against her mother.

heroes defend the defenseless,

even if that meant they took a hit.

she said her lines.

when her teacher asked

if all was all right at home,

she insisted it was, even when

yesterday’s bruises still ached.

and because of this,

to her, it was only

natural that when she’d

find someone, who would

fill her mom’s role.

but two weeks ago,

eight years later,

little her got proven wrong.

he won’t

hurt

her

not like 

mom did.

mindless.

stupid.

gullible.

that’s how i feel

when i press the ‘send’ button.

again, again, again.

i’m falling down,

i know i should

stop.

there are a million

reasons why, but

i can’t seem to stop.

reload.

and again.

that one’s funny. again.

still not an end.

the dopamine is long gone

and my mind is chasing its ghost.

but none of the

attempts i do

are successful.

blood runs thicker than water

they say.

but what if the blood

is so thick

that it tries to strangle?

what if the water

is the only clear thing in

her life?

what if the water

is the only place she ever

feels truly safe?

treasured?

valued?

loved?

what if the blood

is so dense she

feels like it’s quicksand?

what if every time

she tries to move,

to free herself,

she gets pulled in

deeper and deeper

until all that remains is

an echo of her song?

what if the water

is the one thing where she

can breathe and move freely?

what if the water

is the one place she can be herself,

dancing through the waves

instead of struggling to keep her head up?

Quick note: I based this poem (loosely) on the vibes of Sleeping At Last’s 'Anger'. Go listen to the song, it's great.

the crescents in my

handpalm start leaking

clench, unclench.

breathe in, pause, out.

one, two, three.

i can’t explode

not right now

not when she’s watching.

the fire that’s been

stirred for most

my juvenescence

wants to come out

burn everything in its

wake, including

myself.

i prayed, desperation

dripping off every word.

i can’t snap now.

i couldn’t protect her.

what kind of brother am i if i can’t even

protect my little sister?

i

have had

enough.

words spilling from

my mouth like

a waterfall

insults, curses,

none of which can

undo any done damage,

i feel happiest when you are.

i feel happiest when

i know you exist.

i feel happiest when

you get all my weird

rants and theories.

i feel happiest when

we’re talking together

about everything

and nothing all at once.

i feel happiest when

we have been saying

goodbye, i love you

for the fifth time and

planning on a sixth.

i feel happiest when

you’re there, and

promise me you’ll stay.

i feel happiest when you

tell me you love me, because

my love, with you i never doubt

that statement.

i feel like i can move

mountains when you’re

by my side.

please.

don't leave.

Quick note: I based this poem (loosely) on the vibes of Sleeping At Lasts 'Eight'. Go listen to the song, it's great.

within my armor

there's safety

the outside world

isn't so kind

i was a kid

scared and angry

the armor promised

me security.

letting someone in,

lowering my sword,

could be lethal.

the chance on that

was insignificant, but

the fact the chance existed

was scary enough.

so i put the armor on

weighing heavy on young

shoulders, grown up

too quick to be healthy

no one can see

what's beneath

because if they did

why would they stay?

i don't want to

be let down

be rejected

again.

broken mirrors bring luck,

they say.

well, bring it in, then.

i am one.

i've lost so much to protect 

what i had to lose 

i have nothing

no one

except for you.

please, show me how

to loosen the clasps

of the armor, my second skin

i’ll let you in

let you hold me