you, me
sunscreen lines
hot concrete
public pool
wasps clinging to hazy poles supporting scratched-up waterslides
that made us scream:
both the slides
and the wasps
but we always laughed it off
in the end.

when we sit down the sunset will follow.
i hope we do it all over again, tomorrow...
pretzel cup cheese-induced teenage chlorine dreams
the summer i turned fifteen
i thought you
i thought we
were everything

Ballerina creases – a ballad of broken pieces,
Break me down in parts, where pain still leases.
My past lives on in inches, bruised by time,
Dancing round the reasons, moving out of line.

Features of me—like a painting left incomplete,
Still breathing, still dreaming, still finding my feet.
Out in the field, trying not to fall behind,
One step ahead of a runaway mind.

Stable thoughts, but the engine’s wild—
Horsepower pulling my inner child.
A wagon of dreams, heavy with code,
I’m stalling, I’m shifting—about to load.

Don’t sell your soul or cheapen your goal,
Even the prettiest dreams can be sold.
We don’t own it all, yet still owe it all—
Through rain and snow, we rise, we fall.

Chasing myself through a frozen road,
Where passion burns, and a runny nose shows.
They can’t see breath—or the vision you hold,
But seeing it yourself is what helps you go bold.

Have you ever wondered?
Have you ever become?
Who is a villain?

Sit down.
Look at the skies.
Look at the people.
What good is there?

Nothing but vanity.
I have lived, and I have died.
I hated, and I was hated.
For that I am.
I am what I became.

Good?
Nothing but lies.
No good exists in this world.
Only hate, love, betrayal
And worst of all: regret.
Nothing but misery.
Nothing but loss and sadness.

If you ask
Yes, I once embraced goodness.
But when I woke up
And let it go
They scorned me.
They hated me.
Why?
In their eyes, I was different.
I was a villain.
I did not bother.
I am that I am.

I once asked myself:
Is there really a god?
If there is one
Why, when I prayed,
When I begged
Did He not hear me?
Why did He not save me?

And yet...
Nothing.
The king laughs at the fool,
And here I am
Praying to nothing.
To a silence dressed as a god.

There is no god.
If there is
He watches you suffer.
He watches joy blemish.
Why worship a god who enjoys pain?
That is your god, not mine.
I will not bow to a devil.
My head is my dignity.

Curse me all you want.
Hate me for all I care
Let the world deny me.
Let god disown me.
Only one thing has stayed with me
My shadow.
A reflection.
My true self.
The darkness.
And through him
I am known.

Let me tell you a story:
A man who wanted everything,
But was given nothing.
And still he smiled.

Only he knew
What was killing him inside.
He smiled because no one else knew.
No one could comfort him.

The world didn’t appreciate him.
It pushed him to the edge.
The struggle wasn’t enough.
He tried to show he was happy.

People mistreated him,
Bullied him,
Poured salt into his wounds.
No one thought anymore.
No one ever asked:
What is it like to be the other guy?

He accepted it all.
He bathed in insults like a child in the rain.
But this world wasn't made for him.
If only he hadn't been born.
He kept going.
Yearning for love.
Praying for peace.
Dreaming of happiness.

But it was all a dream
Too good to be true.

If what the people wanted was change,
Then change they would get.
But to his surprise
They feared him.
The world finally noticed him.

Their scorn wavered.
They followed.
He led.
He was on top.
And they called him a villain.

They said, “You’ve changed.”
But it was the world that changed him.

Who is a villain?
I tried to be good.
But you made it vanity.
Now I behave like you
And you call me the monster?

I let it all slide.
But you made me this.
You created this.

Let me tell you something:
People love watching a hero fall.
They don’t hate you
They hate your truth.

Nobody noticed me until I changed.
Until I removed my mask.
The greatest enemy of a man
Is himself.

People don’t love you.
They want from you.
Become weak.
Rely on them
Watch them vanish.

Gone like air.

When you’re weak,
They reveal their true selves.
In your final hour
They forget you.
Just like they forgot me.

I have lived.
I have died.
And I have transformed.

All that remains
Is a broken heart.

If only a hero knew
What I’ve been through...
These people aren’t worth saving.
They were never meant for salvation.

Don’t speak like them.
To them you’re a freak.
It’s all a lost cause.
Vanity.
Vanity whispers...
And yet, you still die for them.

You’re not their hero.
You’re their entertainment.
They’ll strip your worth
Then toss you aside.

Mockery becomes their joy.
Hatred becomes their anthem.

The more I tried,
The more I cracked.
My self shattered
Reforged into something new.

A villain is not born.
They are made.

It’s not that I’m bad
It’s that people refuse to see
Who they truly are.

I didn’t want this.
I didn’t choose this.
But what choice did I have?

My greatest wish
Is for you to know.
To know what I’ve endured.
To cry.
To mourn what I became.

You left your savior in the flames.
And turned your back.

Maybe this is how God felt
Creating a world
That mocked Him.

He tried to call them home
But they were too far gone.
Maybe He was a good God,
After all.

Hero
When I’m gone,
Sing my deeds in song.

Let them decide
Hate me...
Or praise me.

If they sing of me
I’ll be at peace beyond the stars.
I shall sing in heaven.

But ask yourself
What have you done?
What have you made me do?

I’m not at fault.
You’re not either.
This is life.
And life
Is the greatest trial of all.

Hero
Design my coffin with beauty and emeralds.
For I shall depart on a journey.
Maybe you were meant for this world.

I shall fly to my God’s embrace.
But before I go
Let me look at the stars.
The starry night I’ve always admired.
The moon’s soft beam
It calms me.
It always does.

You’ve been my joy.
The beauty of your creation
I adored.
And I envied.

It is time.

I can finally leave
Without regret.
Maybe I wasn’t bad after all.
Maybe I was just...
Lost.

Hero,
Shall we meet again?
Maybe then, I will truly see you.

When the time comes...
Till we meet again.

i keep telling myself it’s not a big deal
people fall in love
people drift apart
but it wasn’t supposed to be them
not the two people i trusted
not the two faces i looked at
and thought,
“they’ll never do that to me”

funny how betrayal doesn’t come with sirens
no alarms
just small silences
a skipped message
a weird glance
a laugh that didn’t include me this time

and i wonder—
when did they first look at each other like that?
was it while i was talking?
was it during one of those nights
i was pouring my heart out to her
and he was just… there?

she knew
they both knew
and still they smiled at me
still asked how i was
like they weren’t already
pulling the knife out of my back
to see how deep it went

i don’t even feel anger right now
just emptiness
like i’m standing outside my own life
watching it fold in on itself
quiet
unimportant

maybe this is what it means to be forgotten
not in absence
but in plain sight
to be looked at
and not seen

i keep thinking i’ll cry
but my body must’ve decided
it’s not worth the water

and maybe it’s right
maybe i’m just a chapter
they skipped through
a placeholder
until they figured out what they really wanted

but god
why did what they wanted
have to be
each other?

I went looking for someone to blame for all the cracks
in my name, for the mess I made — but that mirror
didn’t tell a lie. The culprit wore my face.
I don’t want your love. I don’t want your shame.
Still, somehow, you found me — tongue bitter with
the taste of your mistakes; pressed against my teeth
like communion for the broken.

Tears rose — blooming smoke, clouds of falling flowers.
A storm of soft destruction, raining petals made of regret —
but it never rained just mine. It rained yours too.

Yet you learn to grow from the things that once cut
you down. Even the sharpest wounds can become
something softer when you let them go.
Edges trimmed; old roots shed — and still, I rise.
So now, when you see me, don’t mistake me for my
damage. I am not the bruise. I am not the blade.
I am far better than the sum of my mistakes.

I’ve got diamond eyes, but don’t see myself so clear,
All the excited boys make the most noise,
Yet depression only needs to whisper in an ear.

Words are prison bars; speaking highly of yourself
the danger of being handed a lengthy sentence–
Booked in the library of time; days sitting on a shelf.

… waiting to be read

Let me stay shelved a little longer— reading up,
leading up, dreaming of a story still becoming
Between the lines; silent – even good stories gather dust
These tales of triumph still tarnish and rust…

Don't judge by how loud or how fast it all looks—
even the best stories get forgotten in books…
misunderstood!

Whose mind shall rest now
Whence the body is to bow
A lifelong ballad it has become
Where to go? Where to have some
The sweet meeting juicy wine
Of your charms and of mine
Of hopes I feel warmth of love
Of memories of pleasure's dove
Ah! You silly heart stop whinnying
The pain has to go, to be winning
I daresay! Let the cute rhymes go on
Let the water flow, let it melt so on
For once,I saw that fairy's new dream
The smile for me, hiding it may seem
What's this and well why it's to mend
Oh God! Why our matter doesn't end?

I. Ignition (1st Gear)
We built this bond with bolts and wires,
not warmth. Call it a connection— but it
was code, calibrated smiles and pre-programmed
concern. You turned the key, and I came alive
Just long enough to move when you needed motion.
____________

II. Drive (2nd Gear)
We were just motorheads, revving louder than we felt.
Not riders—just parts in motion. Fueling the ride,
but never the journey. You drove me— not toward a
future, but to the edge, where metal meets rust, where
trust wears thin. Your “drive” was reserved for those
who mapped your ending in their eyes— those who
promised arrival, but never shared the breakdowns.
____________

III. End (3rd Gear)
But not everyone is there for the real ride.
Only a few stayed when the wheels locked
and the road curved off course. So if this message
reaches you— the ones who truly cared— know this:
you weren’t just passengers. You were the engine.

What is love,
if not the silence you hold
when your own name is on fire—
but you still speak theirs
with softness?

Is it not
a thousand quiet offerings
stacked in ordinary hours?
The choosing, again
and again
and again—
someone else’s peace
over your pride.

Love.

It doesn’t always wear white.
It doesn’t come
with violins,
vows,
or roses.

Sometimes,
it hides in the quietest corners of the day—
in the unspoken apology,
in the coffee made before sunrise,
in the way you fold their laundry
without expecting thanks.

It is the staying,
when leaving
would be easier.

It is not the grand gestures,
not the screaming from mountaintops—
it is the whisper
in a quiet room:
I’ll stay.

What is love,
if not the willingness
to become smaller
so someone else
can stand taller?

So tell me—
what is love,
if not
sacrifice?

To hell with normalcy.
I'd rather be someone revolting.

It hurts?
That’s a fallacy.
You're a coward —
and that’s fear prompting.

Indeed, there are hierarchies.
And rebelling is... concerning.
Misusing the power to control the industry —
Rebounding on the surface;
it's redundant. It's taunting.

Amuse me!
What — you think this is fancy?
What's wrong with wanting something?
Just because some are powerless... it's raunchy?
Distrust directs the regime —
look, the balance is burning.

Excited to show them dreams —
flaunty.

Look at that smile.
Look at the face.
Full of surprise,
sharp with the gaze.

Oh! You're blushing.
Excuse me — my breaching tendency.
You're beautiful.
And shy.
That's... compelling.

I wish you'd stay that way.
But —
the farther we go,
the greater the dismay.

Subdue this malice.
Subtly play.
If you want the prize...
you gotta pave the way.

I hate it when you're bamboozled,
procrastinating as you sway.
Can't you just stop being a wuss?
Even forecasters have their days.

But in this dance of defiance...
let courage lead the way.

Shatter the chains of conformity.
Let authenticity — stay.

For in each rebellious heartbeat,
a revolution brews with a glaze.

Even a meek-looking fuzz
can become
a blasting,
blazing
wave.
                                                             -Asher Graves