I feel like I’ve taken drugs. I feel brand new. Everything is beautiful. I’m beautiful. Everything is connecting. I feel full of life. Words are overflowing. Thoughts are bright. I can see a future with purpose and passion. I know what I’m supposed to do! Is this what happiness feels like? A light on my face, a flame in my heart. I am ready to conquer the world. Yet something doesn’t feel right. I just can’t put my finger on it. I spin and spin and spin. Ignoring that feeling. Head up, staring at the clouds, soaking in the sunshine. I look over and see my love. He’s standing there, taking it all in, taking me in. I smile at him. He smiles back at me. A single tear rolls down my face. There’s that feeling again. This time a little stronger. “NO,” I shout, “this Will not be taken from me! I begin to dance, pirouettes, beautiful leaps, I am on fire. Nothing can take this from me! A sharp wind slices past me as I’m swirling, I stumble and fall. I look up and see that it wasn’t wind, it’s darkness cutting it’s way in. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I try to run. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I sit. Staring at the clouds again, soaking in the last bit of warmth I can. It’s inevitable. Darkness always wins. I just seem to forget it when I can see only light. I look around for my love. He’s nowhere to be found. I am alone. The darkness is moving in faster now. There’s only a sliver of light on my face. I open my mouth and swallow it. It is gone. Darkness now fully envelopes me. I curl into a ball and scream. Echoes. Silence. I close my eyes. Longing to find that light I had swallowed. Demons dance around me, shouting obscenities, telling me to **** myself….or is that my voice? I don’t know the difference anymore. Have I ever known the difference? I don’t know how long it’s been. I’m still here, lying on the floor. There’s something hitting me. I reach to hit it away. It’s a hand. I draw back and scream “LEAVE ME ALONE!”. The hand grabs mine. It pulls me up, wrapping arms around me. Someone whispers in my ear, “You’ll get through this. You always do. You are strong. I’m right here, always.” It’s my love! He found me! There we stand in the darkness and I am not alone. I was never alone.

What would have happened if I knocked on their door,
With blood running down my thighs.
Letting them see what I was going through,
Would I have been on the bus the next day.
On the way to school,
Wondering if anyone cared .
Would I be here now,
I know they would have gotten me extreme help.
And maybe I would have gotten that help,
Maybe I wouldn’t be cutting still,
Wondering if anyone cares .

A gift of perpetual silence,
from a deafening scornful frequency;
Eternal tranquility, we chase,
so is it considered victory?
Victorious it must feel,
for the one who departs abrupt;
In the halt prior to mine,
leaving a chaos in my heart.

Can my vanity turn me into a tulip I wonder?
Have I misunderstood a fable as a fact
A myth as an aspiration.
I beg to be released from flesh and thoughts, into petals I ask.
No. There are no myths nor magic so
Enough! I turn to science and
Demand to be reformed
And if fantasy won’t let me, perhaps science will and
No more bruised and bended knees but
Did I not ask well enough?
Why can I not pass through winter as rot
Indifferent to time?
Then spend some days as beauty in
Heat, in
Earth, please.
Remember not my voice, not my face, not my body, not my self.
End me wholly each year but let me.
Doom me solely each year but let me.

To me, a hug is the most intimate thing—
more than a kiss,
more than words whispered in the dark.
It’s the silence between two heartbeats
when walls collapse
and breath is shared like trust.
I don’t let many near,
don’t crave the touch of just anyone—
but with you, I caved
like I’d been waiting
my whole life to be held.

Our hearts were the closest
they will ever be—
not in conversation,
not in memory,
but in that breathless pause
between your arms wrapping tight
and my worries letting go.

I’ve been so touch-starved
I daydreamed of what you gave so briefly.
You held me like I was meant to be there.
And then you left—
not knowing you took something
I’d barely just begun to believe I deserved.

When Fern replaced Jack,
There was no turning back.
It felt like an attack,
And then the friendship cracked.
As the people chose their factions,
And Jack found himself alone,
He came to the conclusion,
Breaking free from his delusion,
That the only person’s word that he could count on was his own.

It happened rather fast,
A single moment passed.
A new transfer student,
Felt that he needed to be included.
He didn’t want to be alone,
So he found the nearest friend group,
And hoped they’d take him as their own.

He walked to the group,
Who were trapped in their coops,
Scrolling through their tombs,
Not having anything to say.
Fern cleared his throat,
His anxiety was flying high.
As he stuttered,
“H-h-hi-hi.”

The group was surprised, someone new had bothered,
To approach them,
Especially someone so nervous.
They pondered,
What his ulterior motive was,
As they looked him up and down.
Fern frowned.
Were they judging him?
His hands shook,
As sweat trickled to the ground.
Eventually, Jack got up,
Took his hand and shook it.
“I’m Jack!”
The moment,
That Jack wished he could take back.

Freshman year went on,
And nothing consequential changed.
Fern grew closer to the group,
As life kept turning the pages,
Of their stories,
Growing closer to the heartbreaking ending.

Sophomore year began,
And Jack noticed that things felt off,
Not oppressive,
But enough that he wanted it to stop.
Fern brought another friend along,
And Jack found himself sitting alone,
Fern’s friend just seemed more interesting,
Than Jack ever was.
Jack’s friends used to talk to him,
Then they didn’t.
Jack figured out right away,
That this was how it felt to be replaced.

So Jack went out of his way,
To avoid his “friends” every day.
If they didn’t care,
He wouldn’t let it tear down his sails.
It hurt,
But he knew he’d heal.
He’d leave them behind,
Clawing at his heels.

When Fern replaced Jack,
There was no turning back.
It felt like an attack,
And then the friendship cracked.
As the people chose their factions,
And Jack found himself alone,
He came to the conclusion,
Breaking free from his delusion,
That the only person’s word that he could count on was his own,
And that was okay!

I still call you just to say
the most ordinary things—
a song I loved, a thought I had,
a funny sign on the side of the road.
Your voice still reaches me,
but through miles that stretch like oceans,
and it’s not the same as having you here.

I still go to the places we planned,
but your absence echoes louder
than any crowded room.
Even the puzzles sit unfinished,
pieces scattered like remnants
of a life that once made sense.

You were my safe place,
the steady ground beneath me,
and now I walk unsteady,
reaching for something
that isn’t there.

But soon—soon, you’ll be here.
And for a moment, I’ll breathe again,
watching your smile fill the spaces
that have ached for too long.
I’ll memorize your voice,
trace the feeling of belonging
before it slips away again.

And then, you’ll leave.
And I’ll know the weight of missing you
before it even begins.
Because this time, I understand
how deep absence cuts,
how cruel it is to taste love again
only to have it torn away.

I don’t know why life did this to me,
why I can’t just sit in your presence,
why I have to learn to live
with only shadows of what was.
But if I could freeze time,
I’d stop it the moment
you walk through that door—
before absence has the chance
to find me again.

3am, everyone is sleeping,
In a dark room sits a girl in bed shaking.
Looking for anything to numb the pain,
And quiet the heavy thoughts in her brain.

She has never had this brave idea before,
She goes and sneaks in her brothers drawer,
Pulls out his sharp army blade,
And runs to the bathroom where reality fades.

From an old art set she finds her own tool.
Continues to treat her stomach and thighs cruel.
She discovered this way to cope in 9th grade,
And now in 11th doesn’t let her scars fade.

The wind is humming

low in the deep cave, it sings --


itself less lonely.

dissolving;
the shadows of a faint memory
are left behind by palms of a stranger,
grasping ahold of the glassy walls of my heart;
but your eyes drift away as if to tell me
i never held a moment in your eyes,
as if i was just a muse,
the briefest study
in your work in artistry;
so please
meet me back in five
if i matter

to you