I’ve been
sick all day,
eyes tired
and hollow.
Woke up
with a ****** nose
and a sore throat.

This morning at 4 am,
I forced myself
to throw up.
I felt so sick
of myself inside
I wanted to cry.
My hair’s a
chaotic mess.
My head aches,
my heart fades
in the quiet dark
as I lay in bed.

My body
ShAkeS
with a cold touch.
The ghosts send
shivers down
my spine,
but my poetic
soul is burning.

All day
I felt isolated,
alone in my
own room.
My problematic
mind screams,
keeping me up at night
with dreams left rotten.

I wanted to
talk to you,
but my voice—
It’s broken.

—“Hey”

hey—

—“Hru?”

I’m…—
I’m not ok today—

—“Oh, I’m sorry to hear”

why…?—

—“well… you’re feeling
******, right?”

yea, but why do you care…?—

—“You said ur not ok,
I’m sorry if I’m annoying you,
I just thought I could help”

no um…sorry,
I didn’t mean to come off rude…—

—“Dude, it’s fine,
I know what ur going through,
I’m here if you need”

see that’s the thing,
every time I hear that,
no one is actually here.
I call everyone I can think of,
and they don’t show up!—

—“Oh..”

I just feel so alone…
like every day I always
fade away, like they
forget I existed in
the first place..—

everyday I text
a lot of my friends,
and they leave me
on read
or give short
little replies..—

—“Well… I used to feel
like that a lot
And I still do sometimes.
But ur not alone cuz I care
and I wanna care about u.
Even if you don’t
feel like it’s true”

u don’t know me—

—“I want to though.
:)”

I hope I get
to survive in 2025.
Let go of the pain
that’s been living inside
all my life…

I know that everyone
here is talking about resolution…
So my resolution is
to find someone…

To talk to for hours,
To walk with,
To laugh together,
To cry on their shoulder,
To hug them,
hold their hand and never let go,
To find hope with a map,
To cuddle with,
To kiss them,
To love them,
To miss them
every minute,
To be alone
in every moment
with them…

That “hope”
I define
is love…

I met a girl
named June.
Her heart blooms
like a flower under
the golden sun’s hour,
immune to the dark.
Her eyes shine light
across the room.

One day
she looks at me,
noticed the darkness
burning in my tomb.
The long, lonely silence
that grew louder,
the echoes of neglect and
self-judgement—
self hate…

She reached out her hand,
“I will always stay…I wanna help”,
she said.
I stared at her for a moment…
I wanted to reach out,
wanted to believe,
but I rejected her offer
and walked away,
only to never see her again.
I regret it so much…
I wish I could forget it…
But not her.

White and gray
ink covers the ground,
spilling across the land
wherever I stand.
The wind sings
its frost-tangled voice,
whispering and whistling—
I feel lost,
not found.

I follow the sound
of false hope,
each step sinking
deeper into the snow.
I stumble forward,
struggling blindly,
not knowing
where to go as
it blinds my eyes,
burying me deep
in the night’s snow.

The sharp,
cold wind blows—
sending shivers down,
cutting through my spine,
tearing through
my skin, flesh and bone
with a shadowed knife,
a bitter memory—
a ghost story.

I’ve been in
pain for a while.
I tried to smile
but my brain’s
turning into
a knot—
choking me.

I watch the
time go by,
I wanna talk to you
but lately my
hands are tied,
cried my eyes out
last night,
my voice cracks
like glass,
ready to break,
hurting in the inside,
searching for hope,
but circling
into a burning
memory—

Where my soul
is left rotten,
And long
forgotten

I see
the voice
that lives
Inside…
Carrying hell,
yelling memories
that were never
meant to be—

Only meant for
me to see.

Lately
I’ve been
feeling lonely—
Lost…
always one door
away from hope
but I’m trapped
In an escape room
with no key.
Always solving
a messy puzzle
in my pansexual mind,
while time’s ticking,
walls closing in—
I’m scared…

Scared to
love someone
again,
scared to lose
loved ones,
scared to
lose myself,
scared to
ask for help…

My heart see souls,
not shapes,
not frames—
But more pink
and yellow Ink scars
bloom across me—
like a cherry tree.
Blue tears fall—
And I’m scared
I’d break apart—
drift into the
lonely dark…

Poetry is
something
I speak…
almost as if
I can breathe,
be me for once,
be free to love
without shame.

I’m carving
a window in the
locked room
to let the light in.
I silence the
mental devil
with a pencil
when they rise.

And when
you write,
you’ll find
yourself
aligned with the
words of scars
you’ve conjured—
like stars

And when
you find
yourself,
you don’t
let go

The pencil
you hold
will open
the door
to hope