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891 · May 21
Untitled
bleedingink May 21
Lips a shade of softest pink,
eyes a brilliant cerulean blue.  
I could get lost in your gaze,
forever drifting in the feeling of you.
212 · May 17
maybe
bleedingink May 17
What if,
one day,
you just can't
anymore.
186 · 5d
Untitled
I promised you forever,
and forever it will be.
Because even through the worst nights,
you were there for me.

Even though there are millions of miles,
pulling us apart.
I promised you forever,
and you still have my heart.
If you see this, I still mean it. And I always will <3
183 · 4d
Untitled
We all walk,
slowly and steadily,
toward death.

But regardless,
we keep living,
even if it is just surviving.
162 · May 16
Panic
bleedingink May 16
A breath caught,
snagged on a jagged edge,
pure, white terror blooms,
a blinding fog.

Footsteps echo,
too loud,
everywhere, a frantic pulse,
a hummingbird trapped.

Panic, a cold fist
around the throat,
can't see, can't think,
just run. Where?
Doesn't matter, just away.
Blind.
148 · May 18
Would you notice
bleedingink May 18
Would you notice,
if the sky turned black?
Would you notice,
If all the trees cracked?

Would you notice,
If the rivers ran dry?
Would you notice,
If the lakes began to cry?

Would you notice,
if the sun was gone?
Would you notice,
if the days ran too long?

Would you notice,
if I left this place?
Would you notice,
if you stopped seeing my face?
97 · May 20
Untitled
bleedingink May 20
Sometimes I feel,
like I could walk off the edge of the world
and no one would notice.
94 · May 19
Untitled
bleedingink May 19
Chills up my spine,
the music starting,
watch as she becomes alive,
dancing, dancing, dancing.
82 · May 20
Untitled
bleedingink May 20
When I look at you,
I see beauty,
and grace.

What do you see when you look at me?
80 · May 18
Anger
bleedingink May 18
A flicker.
Is it?
No,
a spark.

A seed of wrong.
Then red blooms
behind my eyes,
a feeling feral, clawing up.

It builds,
a storm front gathering,
pressure in my chest,
a tightening vise.

Words become weapons,
each syllable
sharpened,
aimed.

Lightning.
Pure,
white,
hot.

Striking,
searing,
leaving only scorched earth
behind.

A force unleashed,
uncontrollable,
and then...
the quiet hum of aftermath.

Too late.
73 · 6d
Broken things
The is so much pain,
in this world of ours.
So many broken things,
broken dreams,
broken homes,
broken hearts,
broken people.
72 · 3d
Salt
Salt dries, a hard streak,
you say it isn't my fault,
but seeing you like this,
I can’t believe you.
72 · May 21
Untitled
bleedingink May 21
Everything has a beginning,
middle,
and end.
But what if the end never comes?
What if we are always stuck in the middle?
Dangling forever in limbo—
with no way out?
71 · 4d
Untitled
You told me I couldn't,
so I did.
69 · May 17
It doesn't get easier
bleedingink May 17
You’d think that it would be easy, after all this time.
But I still look for your ghost.
Some people never ask for help, forever saying “I’m okay.” until they can't.
67 · 7d
Untitled
Brighter than the morning sun,
there you shine, my darling one
I love you more than the earth and the sky
you are my baby, my love, my life.
65 · 1d
Untitled
I love you,
but I can’t say it.
You will never know,
even if I desperately want you to.
60 · May 19
You used to
bleedingink May 19
You used to sing
a song so sweet.
A melody made
just for me.

You used to dance
hands in the air.
You didn't care
about whoever was there.

You used to laugh
a beautiful sound.
Then cover you mouth
to hide the noise.

You used to hold me
never letting go.
I wish we could go back
to be the people we used to know.
56 · May 16
On the floor
bleedingink May 16
On the floor,
against the wall,
someone screaming, “call for help”
spinning, can’t focus.
the chipped paint mocks me.

Voices fade,
in and out,
a distant siren wails, a plea?

My own breath,
shallow, tight,
is this really happening now?

The cold tile,
a harsh embrace,
numbness creeping, slowly stealing.

Just stay awake,
just breathe deep,
before it all disappears.

Is that my name they’re calling?
Everything is getting dark.
54 · May 16
My everything
bleedingink May 16
He is the earth,
this horse,
a solid, breathing ground
beneath my fingertips.

The summer sun catches
in the rich, dark copper
of his rippling coat,
a warmth that lingers
even when the days grow cold.

He is the quiet rhythm
of breath and heartbeat,
a steady counterpoint
to the frantic pulse of the world.

He is patience,
a silent understanding
that blooms like wildflowers
in the space between us.

He is everything,
this horse.
My anchor.
My home.
He is solid and sweet. An angel in disguise.
52 · 6d
Untitled
In the middle of the dark,
there is always a light.
A small light,
but a light nonetheless.
52 · May 19
Always on the Outside
bleedingink May 19
The willow weeps, a perpetual fringe, watching the river rush past, never quite embraced by its current.

Like the last leaf clinging tight in December, browned edges whispering of a forgotten spring, while the others dance on the wind’s breath, long gone.

The solitary stone on the shore, worn smooth by the relentless tide, but forever separate, watching the waves crash, the sand shift, belonging only to the edge.

A silent observer. Always on the outside, looking in. The leftover echo in the crowded place.
51 · May 20
Untitled
bleedingink May 20
A ruby red teardrop,
beautiful and shining.
There is no beauty without pain.
51 · May 16
Ghost
bleedingink May 16
The house echoes so loud now.
Sunlight falls,
dust motes dancing.
He used to chase them,
a blur.
Now just the quiet remains.
My hand still reaches for fur.

Everywhere,
his ghost lingers,
A favorite toy,
untouched now.
The park we walked,
feels wrong,
Empty pathways taunt me,
Where is your happy bark now?

Lonely world,
rearranged wrong.
Each day a mountain to climb.
Looking for you in the breeze,
In every kind, gentle face.

Maybe in dreams,
we'll meet.
Running free,
no more pain.
Until then,
I search for you,
In this life,
so strange and new,
Hoping one day,
I will see you again.
Sometimes our greatest friends never say a word.
50 · May 18
Untitled
bleedingink May 18
What is it like,  
to see the world in color
rather than shades of gray?
49 · May 17
Lost
bleedingink May 17
Lost.

A whisper in the wind, a fading trace,
A heart adrift in empty, hollow space.
No landmarks rise, no guiding star to see,
Just endless grey where hope used to be.

Lost in the woods of doubt, a tangled vine,
Where shadows dance and twist in serpentine.
Each step a gamble, forward into fear,
A silent scream that no one seems to hear.

Lost in the crowd, a face without a name,
A flicker lost within a burning flame.
No recognition, no familiar hand,
Just anonymity across the land.

Lost in a dream, a phantom memory,
Clinging to fragments of what used to be.
A fragile echo of a life unknown,
A seed of longing, desperately sown.

Lost to the self, a fractured, shattered soul,
Searching for solace to make it whole.
A journey inward, a desperate plea,
To find the path back to what I can be.

But even lost, a chance to start anew,
To forge a self, resilient, strong, and true.
To shed the old, embrace the unknown way,
And find a purpose in the dawning day.
49 · May 18
Insane?
bleedingink May 18
The definition of insanity,
is doing the same thing over and over,
and expecting a different result.

Does this mean I am insane then?
No matter how many times you hurt me,
I come back.

Over,
and over,
and over again.

Why can't I stop?
47 · 6h
Untitled
There are many words I wish I’d said,
while I still had the chance,
so many things we said we would do,
but we ended with only a glance.
bleedingink May 15
She is a girl in a gilded cage, it is beautiful to look at, bars made of finest gold, engraved with delicate flowers and shimmering vines. But it is still a cage.
She is a girl in a gilded cage, protected, sheltered, safe, but not free. Like an elegant songbird, she is expected to sing, and she does, forever obedient, forever trying to please.
She is a girl in a gilded cage, never allowed out, always behind those beautiful bars while they shout at her, for she did not sing their favorite song that day.
She is a girl in a gilded cage. Begging with her eyes for someone to see beyond the sweet and happy melody she sings, to open the little door, to let her out.
She is a girl in a gilded cage, cowering in a corner as they make the cage smaller, for she did not play her part, instead doing something they will not allow.
She is a girl in a gilded cage, when they are gone she hurts herself, believing she deserves to hurt for being a disappointment.
She is a girl in a gilded cage, sitting on the floor, her only true friend lifeless in her arms, a sob suppressed for she cannot show she is hurting, always happy.
She is a girl in a gilded cage, her innocence taken too early, too fast, looking for a way out because anything is better than this pain, shredding her from the inside.
She is a girl in a gilded cage, learning how to pick the lock because no one will save her so she has to save herself.
She is a girl in a gilded cage, going to parties and getting drunk, hooking up with strangers, even though the one she really wants is there, but so far away.
She is a girl in a gilded cage, coming back every time, because they have trained her to believe she needs them to survive.
She is a girl in a gilded cage, still singing, but her eyes hold secrets and pain that she has never voiced out loud.
She is a girl in a gilded cage, something cracked within her, and someone finally notices and asks what is wrong, but she will not say, afraid of the abandonment given by so many others.
She is a girl in a gilded cage, singing, laughing, joking, and no one will ever know that she is a prisoner, one who might not make it out alive.
Sometimes we have to die before we can live.
44 · May 17
Here’s to the girls
bleedingink May 17
Here's to the girls with shadows in their eyes,
Here's to the girls who feel the weight of lies.
Here's to the girls who see a flawed reflection,
Here's to the girls facing constant dejection.


Here's to the girls with dreams tucked deep inside,
Here's to the girls who feel they have to hide.
Here's to the girls who battle every day,
Here's to the girls who long to find a way.


Here's to the girls who think they aren't enough,
Here's to the girls who feel life is too tough.
Here's to the girls on the verge of letting go,
Here's to the girls where silent teardrops flow.


Here's to the girls who need a gentle hand,
Here's to the girls who need to understand.
Here's to the girls, your worth is shining bright,
Here's to the girls, embrace your inner light.


So, my loves, remember who you are,
My loves go, reach for that star.
Don't ever give in, don't ever give your fight,
Here's to you girls, you will make it through the night.
43 · May 17
don't cry
bleedingink May 17
A pressure cooker,
that's what it is,
this life,
this me.

Simmering sorrow,
a low hum
in the chest,
a vibration in the teeth.

Gotta smile though.
Gotta answer the phone,
"Hey, how are you?"
"Fine, just fine, you know, living the dream."

Living the dream?
Whose dream?
Not the one where
tears flow freely.

A cleansing torrent,
washing away the grit
and grime
of forced composure.

No, can't do that.
Too much to handle.
Too many eyes
watching.

Too much responsibility.
Got to keep it together.
Got to.
Must.

Swallowing it down.
The lump in the throat,
the sting behind the eyes,
the earthquake in the gut.

Down, down,
down.
A metallic taste,
a silent scream.

Pretend, pretend,
pretend.
Laugh at the jokes.
Nod in agreement.

Offer solutions.
Be strong.
Be brave.
Be…okay.

But
the cracks are widening,
thin fissures
on a fragile surface.

And I wonder,
how much longer
can I hold
it all in?

How much longer
before the dam breaks?
And will anyone
even notice the flood
when it finally comes?
43 · May 17
Quiet
bleedingink May 17
There is not enough quiet,
in this world so loud,
a screaming symphony
of notifications and needs.

A hum,
a thrum,
a constant, gnawing crowd
pressing in, planting anxious little seeds.

Where everything is a race,
where you run till you drown,
chasing shadows,
fleeting glimpses of "enough."

Lost in the echo chamber
of this bustling town,
yearning for stillness,
a touch, gentle and rough.

Like the wind
whispering secrets through tall grass,
or the soft fall of snow
on a winter's night.

A space to breathe,
a moment that will last,
beyond the blinding glare
of artificial light.

A quiet heart,
a quiet mind,
a quiet soul,
lost in the static, searching for control.
41 · 4d
Untitled
He is gorgeous, eyes like pools of stardust.
He is pretty, in a way that defies human nature.
He is kind, in a way that so few ever are.
He is, he is, he is.
Not a love poem, just something I wrote for a friend.
39 · 1d
Untitled
Sweet little baby,
where did you go?
You were just here
a moment ago.

Sweet little angel,
happy and free.
Why have you gone?
It's much to early.

Sweet little darling,
your time is done.
Even if it had only
just begun.
The white mare,
a breath of dawn against the endless fields,
her coat,
a canvas of sunlit snow,
life shimmering in her every stride.

She is the whisper of spring,
the promise held,
in a budding rose,
the laughter,
echoing through summer days.

She dances,
a ribbon of hope unbound,
across meadows painted with wildflower hues,
her hooves striking sparks of joy,
a symphony of burgeoning, unending.

But from the shadowed edge of existence,
he watches,
the black stallion,
death roiling in his midnight eyes.

His mane,
a storm cloud,
framing a face,
carved from obsidian
and regret.

He is the hush
that falls on autumn leaves,
the chilling grip of winter's fist,
the silent promise
of return to earth.

He moves,
a phantom
woven from night,
a counterpoint
to the white mare's grace.

He longs to join her dance,
to feel the warmth of life
beneath his hooves,
but an invisible barrier
holds him back.

They circle,
eternally bound
yet separated,
life and death
in an unending ballet.

She leaps and twirls,
bathed in golden light,
he looms and shadows,
shrouded
in the dim.

One breathes
with the vibrant pulse
of being,
the other awaits
the stillness of surrender.

They are forever close,
yet never touching,
a poignant reminder
etched on the vast
canvas of time.

The white mare,
a beacon against the encroaching dark,
the black stallion,
a somber guardian
of its mysteries.

And so they dance,
on and on,
until the end of all things.
28 · May 16
Sanctuary
bleedingink May 16
She smiles,
just a little,
and the tension in my shoulders
melts,
like snow on warm skin.

Her voice,
a low, steady current,
is like coming home.
This girl,
with her soft eyes,
and gentle words,
is…

the harbor in my storm,
the fire in my winter,
the reason I remember
how to breathe again.

She is the quiet promise
whispered in the wind,
that peace, at last,
might finally be granted.

She is the reason
my heart knows how to beat,
a melody both ancient
and eternally new.
She is sanctuary,
in its purest form,
a haven built of kindness,
and offered just to me.
<3
21 · 4d
Untitled
Lightning, fierce, and bright and hot,
he strikes the ground, hard as a rock.
Faster than a Phoenix rising,
he leaps from the ground, hooves flying.

He fears no man nor other beast,
and shall never balk, to say the least.
Eyes of fire and heart of gold,
he is terrible, beautiful, and ever so bold.

— The End —