She wakes up at 3:17 every morning.

The hallway lights flicker on, the cockroaches crawl back to their spots.
Floors creak, glass shatters, and the scares are unleashed when she starts to trot.
In the distance, she listens for something there, or maybe not.
Creating a flickering mess, she’ll leave everything to rot
Continuing to explore, she stumbles on a heater, noting it's red-hot.
Why? She doesn’t know. How? She doesn’t know. Where? She doesn’t know.

Beneath the floors, a creeping plot.
There is a dragging sound, perhaps a rusted knot.
Dangerous beings hiding below, their faces all distraught.
She breathes heavily and groans as the shadows take her spot.
Something takes her, screams, fighting a battle she already fought.
Why? She doesn’t know. How? She doesn’t know. Where? She doesn’t know.

Maybe it was the medicines, the traumas, or the sudden drop
From the roof down to the floors, no way she could have been caught.
If only it were the help that she sought.
She searched for a meaning, but always forgot.
A lifetime in silence and twisted thought, it looks like time has stopped.
No joy, no light, and certainly no second shot.
It was she who gave herself to that final spot.
Why? She didn’t know. How? She didn’t know. Where? She didn’t know.

She woke up at 3:17 every morning.

The unknown it analyses,
The truth that is confined.
Black box of mystery’s,
Tools to set and find.

Axiom to choose,
Hold what not to loose.
Axiom of premise,
Domain of voice.
Infinity in what’s empty,
A category of noise.

The mystery to seek,
Is not all so bleak.
The joy to find what’s in the dark,
Can cast an unknowable spark.

You see what lies before,
Yet chase what could be more.
The simple stands concrete,
But ease eludes your feet.
No space to find complete.
Dreams shape what might unfold,
Yet quake where thoughts take hold.
You see, you know, you stall
A foe that builds a wall.
No fight can break its call.
Time bends, it carves, it breaks,
A paradox that takes.
In shadows, thoughts conceal
The paths you long to feel.
You row through waves unreal.
Infinity’s a trap,
A boundless, woeful map.
It twists what minds can know,
And kills where thoughts still grow.
Let ignorance bestow.
To stop, you must let go,
Release the undertow.
The void’s last kiss will miss
If will can break this bliss.
Step back from thought’s abyss.
Beyond the self, it lies
A truth no mind defines.
To name it is to bind,
To seek it is to grind.
The mystery’s unconfined.

I don’t know what it meant.
Tried each and every timeline,
Still, time slows down—each and every time.

I want to relive those memories,
Even if it was the last time I smiled.
Even if everyone betrayed me,
Spoke to me with harsh, bitter thorns.

I just want to relive this dream again and again,
Even if it doesn’t mean anything,
Even if I don’t know myself what it means.

And they look back
At how bitter I was,
How much of a curse I was.
And yet they never looked into
The curses in their own hearts,
The hatred in their own souls.

How could they let themselves decide my death?
How could I not stop them from killing me?

They thought I was a monster, a curse—
And yet in another timeline,
Decades after,
People cherished my bravery,
For dying for the good.

What kind of betrayal is this?

For I just wanted
A life,
A smile,
A slowed time...

But was seen as a curse to the world,
A tragic death.

I accepted the lies they fed me—
Believed I was a monster.

credits
Sophia n

Over the sky you reign
Bright as ever you shine,
Yet still my grasp in darkness.
By the door you rest,
Yet hesitating to embrace.
The smiles glimpse,
Yet the heart unflattered.
Like the clouds you flow,
Yet never drop.
Like the time you pass,
Yet never respond.
Under the dusk you glow,
Yet trapped in the hidden depth.

Rays of light amidst the darkness.
The darkness was neither painful nor soft.
A cold whisper in the air, a gaol—
A visage of a warden wearing a tunica.
His tongue was made of silver, creating an illusion
of haven amongst the dungeons.
He speaks in lullabies of peace,
yet I feel chains tighten with each word.
These rays are not the sun’s, but lanterns lit by lies.
                                
My breath fogs the silence,
as shadows curl like smoke around my feet.
                   The stones remember every step
                   I’ve taken,
                  Yet I forget what freedom used to
                   feel like.

The walls hum his lullabies now,
soft as velvet, sharp as regret.
I reach for the flicker that trembles in the cracks,
a sliver of light untainted by silver tongues.

Better to bleed under the honest moon
than sleep beneath a ceiling of lies.
So I gather the fragments of truth,
and walk barefoot through the false dawn
not toward escape,
but toward awakening.

(((()))))(((((())))
Hello ,
I posted this o
-n medium,
so I think you
can check it ou
-t  but point is
enjoy <3
((/////)(\\))











Woven into threads, from the etch of pin, and the keeled expanse that it passes through.

The fabric is filled with intention, yet lacks awareness, does it move because of the pin, is it the one that allows what passes through?

Not all threads are meant to stay, not all pins are meant to pierce, some unweaved from it’s own gaps, some don’t push through, but leave marks that something tried.

Hopeful, that the one can leave enough will, perseverance, and focus, determined to pierce and weave, a stitch that is vibrant, that makes it alive.

Once what was torn, a stripped of it’s hue, brought back together, now that is whats true.


What if it feels right, sometimes it’s a lie, that truth is ahead of the curve in your life?


I hope to believe in more than what is right, that I showcase most of my life?


                                               (1)
===================================================


I criticize, I seek in your plight, that you are worse than you sound in my mind.

I show case a case in point of this time:

(POINT 1)

You can’t be what you want in this life, so you attribute to things that are grandeur than right, you hope to be on “_ saves your life, but with no consequence of your wrongs in this life, and you’ll be saved for

(POINT 2)

what, the guilt? That’s right— or the fear, that shapes what a sleep in the night may feel like, or you feel the tremble when you realize you’ll die, and notice that things aren’t undone in this life. The truth is that you may just die in this life, and never to see the next day at the eyes. Jokes on you—

you are the reason why others feel plight, somehow you will be dead in their lives, early to elder, these wrongs in our age, come to haunt and die with us.
CONCLUSION

Your finale showcases that you are at the end of the alley, somewhere in this possibility your possible reverence is something that is older than our comprehensions, yet truth is that we change, we completely innovate, yet something that shows that we aren’t hopeful for favors, we make the made, we are possible from all those who scream at late, demanding,

“ T H I S “ (1 minute ago),

then

“ T H A T “ (4 minutes ago),

by the space of response,

and then you will seem that you love to be wrong

in every shape and form that you are

little by little, the system at large, is questionable at most at that part,
                                                                ­                                                                 ­       
but your death is the part that you left in this part.                                


    Done.
    (❤)(🔁)(👍)(👎)
    (11:45 pm AM)
                                                        (2)
­___________________


 ­   ****, look man, I get that, but I just wanted to yknow make something that I felt was cool, was I being idk, too hopeful?

_________________­____________________­_

                                      
                   ­                       has to think for a bit


===================================================

I understand the guilt, the fear and the death, and the part of myself that left whats within,
and tried to send that to a place —

i n the _ b i n .



I know, that is what is resonant about you, your creativity, your possibility to be more than what your environment do to you —
is profound already, one of the interesting parts of you, so it was what I believe:

You are interesting
beings,

built on fixed systems, that created a variable that creates meaning and
knowledge, the parts of your mind that cannot understand or equate, find ways in which you give reason for O  P  E  R  A  T  E  ,

But point being is that you are a random, and that is interesting in itself, yet you build upon systems, structures, numbers, to build on what we see as

‘ e l s e ’

the space in which you hold, that leaves at the end, truly, at the end is entropy at hand.
Point being is that you’ll receive a technical ‘ d e a t h ‘
in your hand.

    Done.
    (❤)(🔁)(👍)(👎)
    (11:45 pm AM)
                                                 (3)
___________________­

    I thought I was seriously fine, but seriously what the hell is wrong with this app, who builds an app on indifference??

by Rab [12:50:53) AM Friday April 4]