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Esther 3d
i got addicted to the emotional roller coaster

now i can't find my balance on steady ground

high hopes and low blows

love bombed me like the fireworks on your birthday

and you convinced me that wasn't the case

but who talks rings and cradles

when my hands have barely touched your soul?

we were still strangers

i should've known

i showed you the demons from my past

you swore you wouldn't hurt me like that

but you went on and did exactly just that

you left me high and dry

abandoned me without a trace

never any rhyme or reason

i made peace without closure

you tucked your tail between your legs

and ran like a scared little boy at the first sign of danger

then of course

just like clockwork

you came crawling back

begging for forgiveness

begging for my hand again

begging for love

but i've already given it to someone else

and unlike you

i have no regrets

because i would rather sit by a warm log fire on a winter's eve

than to shiver at explosive fireworks in the night sky

on any given day
𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘶𝘯-𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 // 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭
alex Jul 22
Writers die young,
but those loved
by a writer
live forever —
through scrappy handwriting
on yellowing pages
of verse and prose
full of adoration,
unconditional love
from an old soul
with a heart too big
for their own good.
ash Jul 17
give it to the night sky,
i whisper, looking down at our intertwined hands—
sweaty as they are, my palm amongst yours.
you tighten the grip just right,
looking me in the eye,
pleading silently to never let go.

i smile, as i usually do,
but this one carries the hint of weakness—
the feeling brought by you.
and i look back up; the moon stares—
like a mother, like a father, like a family.
it holds you and i under its pale light,
surrounding us,
despite the dark enclosing us from all sides.

give it to the night sky,
i say again, broken at the end.
you shake your head—
i can't, i hear you mumble,
makes me cry, i hold it in.

you could, give all this love to the night sky,
let me go,
and i'll dream about you.


but is it really necessary?
i promised to stay.


so you do.
i see strength,
and i see the way it fits you—
it comes in waves
until it grapples over you.
and while the dark seeps right across your chest
through the tendrils of my hand,
you never let go.

i watch you break,
wait for you to disintegrate,
as i've always feared—
except the smile never quite leaves your face.

and you give me the look,
looking straight into my eyes once more.
you smile the same way you did the first day,
and the day i told you who i am,
and the day you saw me destroy the world around us—
the same inkling of love
disguised as the passion of a fool.
aren't you a fool

you never let go,
even as my murk surrounds you.
it circles,
ensnares,
screams,
and cries—
but you hold my hand tight all that while.

and when i see it take over you,
thoroughly,
i break down—
like a glass piece shattering.

can't afford to look back up,
can't look at your face.
what have i done,
after all this time,
once again?

squeezing my insides,
finding something—
the same anchor of the heavy
that's held me down all this while.

the feeling so floaty,
i start losing grip of your arm.
and as it falls nimbly to your side,
i can't look at your face.

but there's a shimmer in the night.
the dark is overshadowed—
never has it happened,
but it does now,
as the moon brightens twice.

and your voice echoes—
first in my mind,
then my heart,
and slowly it takes over me,
as a cold hand searches for mine.

the grip is back—
it grounds so light,
unlike what i was before.
you make me look up,
and i see it in your eyes:
no murk, none of mine,
even though tendrils of it
snake around your neck
and give way into lines—
lines shadowed by a glow,
a glow so pure and bright.

you still carry the same smile,
and it makes me cry.

you withheld it all,
i question,
hoping you won't fade away into oblivion.

there are stars in your eyes,
and i see the hearts in mine.
the night glimmers,
and i feel alive.

brought you back to life, didn't i promise?
it could have killed you—
they always mentioned it did.

none of them had the urge,
or the strength,
or saw through you the right way, perhaps.


i chuckle.
perhaps—
i wasn't worth enough of that.


hey, what of me—

well, love, my love,
tie u and i, i shall
our hands together
let this feeling swell,
and you're right,
i'll give you it—
you did bring me back to life.

something jinx and ekko poured life into
it's reallllly old and i'm stuck in a writer's block
i missed your voice

so i turned on the songs i always imagined you'd sing

on the corner of my bed


just to look for your voice amongst the others'

somehow i always find it
Tani Jul 4
This feeling, it’s not just a cloud hanging over me, it’s a whole **** storm, and I brought it on myself. My chest aches, yeah, but it’s not just anxiety anymore; it’s guilt, sharp and cold. And my stomach… God, it’s not just churning from dread, it’s from the memory of how I made their stomach churn, how I tied their insides in knots. I can almost taste the bile now, from the sheer regret of it all.
I keep trying to tell myself, "It's just a phase, you'll get over it." Like the pain I caused will just evaporate. But it doesn't. Every single day, that heavy, gray cloud is still there, darker now, because it's stained with what I did. When I look in the mirror, I don't just see a tired person; I see the **** who broke their heart, the one who took their trust and stomped on it. That vibrant person I used to be? They’re gone, replaced by this hollowed-out shell that’s constantly on the verge of throwing up from the shame.
Is this it? Is this just how I am now? The person who wrecked something beautiful, who caused so much pain? The thought just makes my stomach clench tighter. I wish it was just a temporary sadness, a bad mood I could shake off. But this feels deeper, more entrenched. It’s not just me anymore; it’s the ghost of what I did, haunting every single moment. And I can’t help but wonder if the good in me, the person who wasn't capable of such damage, has just withered away for good, leaving only this wreckage behind.
rick Jul 4
I’ve only ever seen two outcomes
in terms of meeting people:
you’re either betrayed
or forgotten about.

and sometimes I’d rather take
the malicious stabbing of bad faith
over the slow waltz with the long knife.


that’s all.
rick Jun 27
it’s sad to say
that nowadays
a smile
is more often
used
to hide depression
rather than
express
happiness.
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