I never begged for anyone to stay—
not once, not in silence, not in stray
glances that lingered longer than pride
would ever let me justify.

But that night,
the stars felt too loud
and the world too hollow.

Every inch of me—
bone, breath, memory—
itched like a wound that knew
its healer was walking away.
Even the atoms trembled,
each particle aching
to betray my mouth
and scream
“Please…”

I wish I lacked empathy.
I don’t want to feel.
I don’t want to see signs.
I don’t want to be real.

One minute, I’m fine—
then my soul explodes in my chest.
I wish I didn’t see that.
But I did. And now, no rest.

I wish I could shrug,
say “that’s not my concern,”
but every flicker of pain
Causes my stomach to hurt.

I notice the silence,
the shift in your tone—
there's nothing in your voice
It's all I think about alone.

This is why I'm standoffish and stick to just me
There's no ache in loneliness
At least not the kind that stings

Maybe I'll make friends but that feels like betrayal
These self imposed rules- a safe fortress failure

I wish I didn’t feel
At least not to this extent
My day was going so good
But I ruined it again

I sit with stars no one can see,
Dreaming roads that set minds free.
In halls of noise, I speak so low,
But in my heart, whole forests grow.

They say "Be still, Stay in your place",
But I see planets, time and space.
They don't see how I light the dark-
A quiet kid with a silent spark.

No one listens, No one stays,
Yet I keep building in my ways.
With every 'no', I write my song,
Because in dreams, I do belong.

One day they'll see the things I made,
The lights I sparked, the roads I paved.
And though today I stand alone,
My spark is small- but fully grown.

Everyday
New ways
Better days
Helpful ways
Much too say
Heat is on

I love days like this
late day sunshine, early summer bliss.
The magnolia smells of home,
no matter how displaced
June breeze, calm and playful
your hand on my bare waist.

Sometimes I stare out beyond what I can see
and wonder who else has been.
Ancient southern trees
covered in spanish moss where leaves grow thin.
The night approaches
a lone rider with no name
the cover of darkness imposed
and fashions mystery just the same.

Growing restless in the thickness of heat
solstice tastes like sugar and a hidden moon
something mindless and indistinct.
Burning for as long as an eye can blink,
gentle little light of beetle make the way
know it could lead me somewhere far, far off
but here, I so wish to stay.