Tears squeezing one by one
From eyes that feign untroubled sleep
Slowly flows
From taut cheeks
Quivering from suppression
Of lips dying to scream out
The words of frustrations
The sentences of antagonism
The paragraphs of vulnerability
That is never allowed to be free
And how they trickle one by one,
Slowly dampening
The pillow that witnesses
All the defenselessness
Of a lonely girl
With voice that shouts
Yet unheard and unsung,
With eyes that implores
Yet unseen and unperceived,
With hands that reaches
Yet untook and ungrasped,
With a heart that waits
Yet forgotten and abandoned.

"In certain hard moments, not even your
comfort food,
favorite perfume,
healing music,
that one comforting conversation,
a peaceful walk in nature,
or a joyful outing can bring you back to normal."

Don’t close your eyes on your dreams—
you’ll lose sight of what you believe.
The will of your work is measured by
the work you’re willing to put in.
As I live in a house of emotions,
courting words to plead my case—
bleeding through a see-through face.
A quiet ache, always on trial.

Knowing that the high-and-mighty
Christian is the easiest target to bring down.
Careers cut short— because in short, they
never really knew the Lord.

And me?

I live like the world’s greatest plot twist,
my mind a tornado of thoughts—
every turn unexpected,
every breeze loud with questions.
I’ve known the chill of a cold finger turned
trigger. And felt the weight of a sharp tongue
used as a silencer. As it’s easy to shoot yourself
down the same way you shoot others—whether
whispered or screamed out loud.

But those who follow their worth,
instead of searching for it in the crowd—
those are the ones who stand out.
Aloud.

In a brief squeeze, my chest wheezed—
there goes my heart, falling out of itself,
into another rhyme, into another line.
Queue me up for feeling less than myself,
lost in being so lost.

Letting go of old grievances just to make
room for new ones today.
“I’m not okay”—
but I won’t say it, because you MAYBE
won’t think of me the same.

Sometimes I’m determined, other times,
indulgent. I look like I’ve got it together,
but beneath the surface,
I’m exhausted—
completely out of order.
Struggling. Sweating.
But short on words to explain what’s wrong.

I’d be seen as too much for speaking my
pain aloud— but pain is always louder
when it’s silent.

So I speak now for those who are just like
I am.
We are We:
navigating identity crises in these
stretched-out teen years of our twenties.
We are plenty— and still enough to
surround each other in love that counts,
instead of letting life count us down
or count us out. We will rise. Together.

I am washing the sheets,
from so much overflowing love,
from so much sweat,
from passion found.

I wash the sheets,
of a beautiful early adventure,
full of communication,
sincere affection,
and flames.

Your smile and your gaze
lit up my mornings.

I wash the sheets,
because today we must say goodbye,
because the universe brought us together,
but the voice of society tears us apart.

Where a woman's feelings
are accepted,
but a man's are a sentence.

A sweet reflection,
that a dark part
holds onto us.

Where a woman can cry in broad daylight,
while a man destroys himself.

Abuse of repression,
for emotions left unvalidated.

I am not something strong,
I am not fortitude,
I am a human consciousness.

Society, I do not seek your approval,
but for my soul to be heard.

I did not need to fit into a mold
for my manhood to be accepted.

And let values be more expensive
than success.

I wash the sheets,
for my past wounds.

Sheets of a farewell,
for my expectations created.

Sheets of oblivion,
because even though there was fire,
our stories did not intertwine.

Sheets of hope,
that I will sweat,
because someone better awaits us tomorrow.

I trusted your name,
So You never killed me,
Never I did either.
What do you have to say ?

Yes,
I killed you.
And I made you suffer.

I was 15,
you were same,
I watched your eyes...
And mine in rain,

I am sorry if
You were in pain  ,
my brother ..
you felt that never,

Your eyes were numb,
Nothing that now ,
That makes me better.

I killed you,
my brother...

I was looking at you,
But you were not,

I am not sure if
I missed you a lot.

There was no blood ,
No body.

If you were in fear..
Waiting there,

All in the woods
Staring stairs,

Had I come down then .....
You would not starve then,
Would you have still waited , then?

What do I do now?

Where have you gone .

You killed me ,my brother,
As you made me suffer ,
From the pain you dealt me
I will never be better.

Why do you do this?  
Twist my choices until they vanish,  
your words, soft but cruel, carving into my flesh,  
each one deeper, more suffocating than the last.  
You blackmail me with your pain,  
threats hanging like nooses,
slowly tightening around my neck.  
You said you’d end everything,  
if I didn’t surrender to your darkness.  
Do you even see me,  
not as your shattered reflection,  
but as someone slowly being erased,  
drowning in a life I can’t escape?  
I know you're sinking,  
but why drag me down with you,  
burying me beneath your weight?  
I need you to hear me—  
to release me before I’m lost entirely,  
because if you can’t,  
I’ll break, and you’ll have killed me too.