versesbyaaliyah

Only, he has my face again and then his.

This goes on and on, untill I forget who comes first,

He's the man that I dreamt about, I am the apple of his eyes,

He takes me out to shop, and doesn't yell at me when my icecream drops.

He's so kind to me that kindness stops feeling foreign,and I stop confusing it with love all the time.

He's patient, still he's strong, and he's wiling to listen to my problems, make them go away,

So when I grow up, I don't find myself on uneven ground again and again.

He's not my father, I just wish he was,

So I often close my eyes to imagine,

Someone who thought I was worth a glance.

I close my eyes and will him to go away,

The father I imagined for myself because I didn't want to be the only one who didn't feel loved that way.

I tuck in my little secret, that my mother would never know. She tried but she wasn't enough,I guess I needed a man too?

--prompt from @versesbyaaliyah "write the shadow"

She plucks petals from a long-decayed rose: its once powdery color ground down to black, to gray, to silver. Ashen dreams remind her of a face she used to bear--glittering like dew dotting on daisies, she wonders about if it were better to stay young. Innocent, pure.

The dead take up their place around her, children with vampiric teeth glimmering with gilded tips. She embraces them, but her hands tremble. How could love exist, when a crevice cuts through her heart, as cold as the roses right before the dawn?

Golden memories linger, but they float on wilted leaves. Silvery winds console, but they do not match her king's.

She turns inside

It’s all monstrous

A monstrous love, a monstrous hate

To whom in which does she deserve to confide

Dig a little deeper

What do you find

Not a keeper

A wrecked mind

It’s all disgusting

The desire and the lusting

it’s all gross

the cracks in her mind show

The filthy need

The sick hunger

On what will she feed

And when will she bleed

The crowd goes wild for the sick show

The turning inside out

Waiting for the final blow

The last word to end this bout

Finally she rips her heart out

With it still in her hand she cries

It’s rotting was there ever any doubt

She screams and lets out a final sigh

Say goodbye to the world’s worst girl

Circles

Rowan Briar

Aug ‘25

Round and round we spin together

Wildly on the carousel on a darkened cloudy evening

Hearts beating too quickly to feel and the air blowing at our faces like its trying to kill us

I tighten the coil of your music box because I love to watch the ballerina spin

We twirl and twirl and twirl and twirl

Dancing the dance, swing around to the beat

The bathtub is full

I pull the cork

We fall down the open drain

It is an endless cycle

Circling vultures

A hurricane

in perpetual reformation

shadows paint . . . .

. . . . only to erase

any discernible trace

invisible yet still visible

diaphanous without a face

seeing is not believing . . . .

deceiving as eyes can be

and yours are ones that stay

shine light into life's mystery

clandestine as human history

shadows cast to block the sun

no truth in light . . . .

. . . . if fact proves fiction

a house of lies will come undone

out of the darkness . . . .

. . . . your secrets and lies

no guise to hide you . . . .

killer, it's you who fired the gun

out of the shadows . . . .

. . . . run, you can run

but you'll never outrun the light

for you've no right to end a life

shadow warrior, shadow dancer

stealth criminal. . . . .

. . . . there's never ever - any

telling what you might

. . . . shadow lover

☆☆☆☆☆

©️ @followcb ☆ August 29, 2025

My mother said that writing story’s and drawing was for kids of four.

But why won’t you let me have a dream?

It’s not about how I tell the story.

It’s about its core.

Why don’t you care about me?

I thought I was your daughter.

But why don’t I feel?

I never wanted to be brutal.

I just need to defend myself.

Cause I’m scared and family doesn’t know.

I know, my heart is supreme.

I will survive with or without family.

I will look at the beautiful sun on a cold winter day.

Knowing I’m standing alone.

From this to that, everything changes.

While I’m just a teenage girl,

With tears in the nights.

Maby when I’m older there will be more chances.

But for now I’m just standing next to my head,

Cause now I need to listen to my heart.

I will let family be what family means to me now.

For now family is just a word.

But maby one day it will change.

I feel a lot, but family doesn’t need to know.

Let me watch the sunrise while I wish I was free, like a bird.

-Sabine

It's for the challange: ''Write the shadow'' @versesbyaaliyah & @picklemafia

I wrote about my family cause idk actually. It's, yea, this is what i want to share, i don't think i have time to write something else <3

(I know I didn't follow the rule. But this is all I could write. Busy week, srry)

T.W/Tags - The Poem has Heavy Themes, Such as Mental Health and Implied Suicide - Read at Your Own Risk! You Have Been Warned!

to suffocate a fragile body.

Words splattered in blood cover the panels.

“Not good enough.”

Stolen dreams scribed across the skirt.

“That’s not a woman’s job.”

As blazing air invigorates

and the envelope rises

the body remains still.

The calligraphy expands, bulging and invading.

Alienated and forgotten

the two eyes open.

Hauntingly unblinking

they glare up at the inflated, full balloon.

The balloon is not large enough to fit

the cries she holds deep within.

The balloon drifts up

leaving her abandoned on the grass.

Cold and torpid.

Lying in the thickness of chauvinism.

An inner fire

is fanned,

glowing coal crackles,

sparks rise into the air,

painting a new zodiac sign

into the night.

Why don't you want to understand?

Flames creep

through the veins,

air so thick,

barely room

to breathe.

Pressure

on chest,

a burden so heavy.

Don't you believe me?

Despair,

a silent neighbor of rage,

familiar,

yet far away.

Lava - your blood,

ash - our breath,

dancing

and whirling

through the air,

gray takes over,

red heartbeat,

hot skin.

Can't you feel me?

isn't it fun to be doomed? look at this wreck-

wildfires burning down horizons not a drop of water in any direction vows twisted and turned to fit the narrative of false heroes who force upon their perspective and the golden ones who vowed to be saviors turned the tables revealing to be traitors

it was always about money and power because what could happen if you share your jeweled tower? it was always about the color of skin because what will you lose by being inclusive? it was always about heteronormativity because what else will sustain toxic masculinity?

this was not the future i was promised this was not the life i believed in this is the end times i am forced to live was there ever hope for a happy ending?

we set ourselves up for our own demise living dystopians from tales as old as time and within the rage i am blinded by the hope i had for a bright future is out of sight cursed to live under an eternal night with only the dimming stars as my only light

but unless a vigilante rises to the occasion i will remain within, believing life has left me forsaken

-

A/n: This ended up being more about the current world than I expected. And because of that I want to note this is written from my perspective as a cis white bi/queer girl.

Like a piece is missing from a dust covered puzzle on a shelf

You’ll be ignored and see others around you find love but you won’t, not even in yourself

Cold and lonely is your fate

The next day is your only date

Intertwined by fate and while destiny leaves you confused

A stamp in your mind “used and abused”

You’ll have friends but no connections

You’ll avoid any deep reflections

Seeing that there’s only more and more of the same

Come on baby let’s take a tour

Let’s see inside right down to the core

Take off your skin and let the blood pour

What’s inside a girl

Emotions deeper than the titanic

Feelings of love and some of panic

Wind her up and watch her be manic

What’s inside a girl

Scars on her lungs from trapped screams

She’s ripped and bursting at the seams

Memories are buried almost lost it seems

What’s inside a girl

Every time she was ignored or forgotten

Unmet needs. Inside she’s rotting

Small frail voice not used to being heard

Her body is the cage for the bird

What’s inside a girl

She’s starting to rust!

Her walls of metal are no good

Her chest is so hollow and full of air it might bust

To keep this body together she’s done all she could

What’s inside a girl

A giant heart surprisingly still beating

A heart full of love and needing

A heart of dreams and fire

@versesbyaaliyah

Shadows

Shadows dancing in the soul

Darkness covers what one can’t know

Opposing truths that taste of lies

Is a zebra black or white?

A sacred love, a gentle hymn

And wild lava flows from sin

Desire calls to dance in pairs

While stillness beckons an empty chair

Shadows holding broken pieces

Dripping blood the heart releases

Somber in the dead of night

Nothing a smile can't hide

A fake laugh

Sugarcoating what's inside

You call it anger. Resentment

When it's unhealed trauma

And a child's memory bent

You think rage leads to slammed doors

But it's the internal pain

It's the nights that leave you curled up on cold floors

You see bruised hands, punching the wall

And you say it's disrespect

Not a cry for help, an SOS call

Then It's a weakness to cry

But how the fuck does that work

Cause when you have to help you don't even try

This fire you see as furry

Is just survival mode

Something to stop reality from getting too blurry

Now you know why it's a secret

Why there's so much precaution in words

Why every conversation seems discreet

You can't tame a fire but you can shut it off

Now i keep it's ashes sealed

This part of me. Raw and vulnerable

A part I'll forever leave unrevealed

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

For the: Write The Shadow Challenge

blackness beneath her eyes

any words spoken are crushed between

a rotten index and thumb

i linger,

seeping through the cracks of her cracking walls,

there when she least expects, stalking,

pointy skin and bone,

meat walking, wishing for more,

whispers screaming not-to-be,

so fragile, weak, so endlessly sick,

always a product bound to be

consumed endlessly.

vile skin that shines,

its own desires denied,

for something beyond lying down,

and accepting flesh —

as her final line.

simply another object on the pile.

simply another non-human forced to play this endless farse.

a soul unallowed to thrive,

condemned to survive,

to be an object of desire—

until her own desires starve,

or get killed,