I cradle hurricanes in my ribcage
while words swirl around my head.
I try to catch the good ones-
but mostly, I wish I was dead.

I do everything too much-
the joy, the sorrow, the dread.
Yet somehow, I’m never enough-
what a curious truth to be force fed.

If I laugh, it’s always too loud;
my mouth too sharp to make anyone proud.
Crying is a dangerous game,
I could sob away a city, drown in the blame.

My rage leaves no survivors,
as if I line people up on personal pyres.
When I vent, they hear preaching-
a sermon no one wants, a fear of my leeching.

I don’t love, I dissect-
obsessively search for the trap I expect.
I can’t just leave; I burn it all down-
the bubbly, funny girl wears a permanent frown.

I do too much and my inner child feels seen,
She's acting out, we aren't this mean
I just get scared when the vibe is off, and ruining the mood makes the blow more soft.

Despite the chaos I still crave love, an equal partner, wearing fireproof gloves.

I’m tired
I want to sleep
My brain is no longer wired
I’m weary
I’m done
The bed has won!

One day, you will return

to the moment you left yourself behind.

To touch the outline of your absence

like a photograph you forgot to frame.

You’ll gather the scattered Saturdays,
the drawings no one kept,
the questions you were too afraid to ask,
the stories no one stayed long enough to hear.

And you’ll remember the slammed doors,

the silence between two people who once made you,

the friend who stopped texting back,

the laughter that vanished from the room.

You’ll walk through those rooms again,

dust in the corners,
and sit beside the stranger,
your hand on his own shoulder.

Only this time,
you won’t hush his laugh.

You won’t close the door.

It will be as natural as breath,

as quiet as light through the curtains

of a house no longer haunted.
This time, you’ll tell him you’re here now.

Every door will open.

And the only thing heard through the hallways

will be the laughter of a child

and the stars in the night sky,

laughing along.

This time, you’ll stay.

I would give you, almost anything,

for the borders, to close.
For our separate galaxies,
to inch, and crawl, ever closer,

winding and unwinding
around each other,
like the red thread of fate,
rocking gently, on twin spools.

I would give up, almost everything,

for my lifeline, to unravel,

if only...

to retangle, around yours,
in a closed,
but infinite loop.

I would give you my all,
my everything

For the distance,
between us...
to vanish.
For the spaces around us,
to suture themselves, together,
and heal,
like gaping wounds.

For the sublime favor,
of feeling you shine down, on me,
in a way no other, could do.

To see all your love,
reflected, in your mirrored irises,
and know that no one,
stands before, or behind me.

And I'd sell my own soul,
without a second thought
just to hear you say

That I'm your one,
your only love,
and no other
could ever

do.

They warned me,
Life was unforgivable.

They warned me,
Life hurts.

They warned me,
I shouldn’t expect perfection.

They warned me,
I have to be stronger,
Than others actions or words.

They warned,
and warned me some more,
Everyday.
THAT day i decayed,
In silence.

I NEVER expected,
the world could hurt,
As much as I was told.
Those warnings,
Are so much more.
My limits were tested,
Far out of the shore.  

It’s most Important to head,
Warnings when they come.
Now Im on the run,
From life’s worst nightmares,
That send boulders,
tumbling down my path.

Im forever lost in regret,
Low self esteem,
Health conditions,
cluelessness,
Mixed with dreams.

I hope one day,
I’ll be someone great,
But Im lost for-now.

Even though,
They warned me,
Life would hurt.

I didn’t follow,
What they warned me.

Begin with a question no one wants answered.
Write as if gravity stopped working for one day.
Describe a home you’ve never lived in but still miss.
Begin in the middle of an argument and don’t explain it.
Write from the perspective of a falling star.
Describe love using only mechanical imagery.
Begin with the line “Everyone disappeared at once.”
Imagine you are the last memory someone will ever have.
Write a poem using only instructions (e.g., “step one…”).
Describe what lives between seconds.
Write as if the earth is writing a diary.
Imagine the scent of grief and describe it.
Begin with “This is the part I never talk about…”
Write from the perspective of something melting.
Describe what hides in silence.
Imagine you woke up in someone else’s past.
Write about a map with no destination.
Begin with a riddle and unravel it as a poem.
Write a poem as if your body could talk.
Describe a fear that grows roots.
Write as if you're trapped in a moment forever.
Begin with a sound that doesn’t exist.
Write about a name you’ve forgotten but feel deeply.
Describe betrayal without using words of anger.
Imagine your dreams were someone else’s reality.
Write from the perspective of a message in a bottle.
Begin with “They warned me, but…”
Describe what remains after joy leaves.
Imagine your voice got lost — where did it go?
Write a poem about the space between letters.
Describe a day that repeats endlessly.
Write as if you’re becoming someone else mid-sentence.
Begin with an echo that won't stop.
Describe the sound of forgetting.
Write from the point of view of a shadow left behind.
Imagine a clock that runs on emotion instead of time.
Begin with “The sky cracked open…”
Write about a song that only you can hear.
Describe a truth you found by accident.
Write a poem as if the seasons refused to change.
Imagine color could bleed — what would it stain?
Begin with “I borrowed this from a stranger…”
Write from the perspective of the wind carrying news.
Describe the weight of silence between two people.
Write a poem in the form of a confession to nature.
Imagine a street that leads to nowhere — and stays there.
Begin with a warning etched in glass.
Describe a memory that never belonged to you.
Write about an emotion that escaped its name.
Begin with “This place doesn’t forgive easily…”
Describe a sky that reflects your regrets.
Imagine your breath could leave messages.
Write a poem about a scar that speaks.
Begin with a lullaby that disturbs instead of comforts.
Write from the perspective of the first lie ever told.
Describe a garden that grows only at night.
Imagine snow that burns instead of cools.
Begin with “The truth wore a disguise…”
Write about a language made only of touch.
Describe a poem that writes itself when you sleep.
Write as if light were a person chasing you.
Begin in the middle of someone else’s dream.
Write about something that disappears when named.
Imagine you can hear the thoughts of objects.
Begin with a knock that comes from inside you.
Write from the voice of something artificial discovering beauty.
Describe a season that doesn’t exist.
Imagine you're made of glass — what cracks first?
Begin with “It wasn’t supposed to end like this…”
Write a poem shaped like a question mark — metaphorically.
Describe an echo that lies.
Write as if you’re searching for a missing feeling.
Begin with the sentence “I never saw their face.”
Describe the morning after everything changed.
Write from the perspective of a candle remembering fire.
Imagine a world where people wear their memories.
Begin with the words “Some things refuse to be buried…”
Describe grief as if it were a house.
Write as if a storm wrote you a letter.
Imagine your spine holds stories — tell one.
Begin with a whisper no one hears but you.
Write about a promise that changed shape.
Describe joy as a place you can visit.
Imagine your name was a password to another life.
Write from the perspective of forgotten laughter.
Begin with a voice that doesn’t match the speaker.
Write a poem that feels like an unfinished sentence.
Describe the last word spoken by a dying star.
Imagine time collapses into one single second — describe it.
Write a poem about the smell of memory.
Begin with “I waited too long to…”
Write from the perspective of a heartbeat outside the body.
Describe a moment that never began but still ended.
Imagine you can only speak in colors — write the conversation.
Write a poem where gravity slowly fades away.
Begin with the phrase “This is where I disappear.”
Describe a thunderstorm as a character.
Write as if each word is a footstep away from truth.
Imagine a poem told through broken mirrors.
Begin with “I met myself yesterday…”