I’m tired of swiping, tired of staring  
at faces I’ll never touch.  
The world feels like a crowded room,  
but nobody’s looking my way.  

They say love’s a battlefield,  
but I’m unarmed, bare hands,  
a heart too soft to fight.  
And yet I keep stepping in,  
waiting for a glance, a spark,  
someone to call my name like it’s theirs.  

I don’t want roses,  
don’t need sweet words dripping with lies.  
Give me the mess,  
the bruises, the fire that burns  
when two souls collide too fast.  
I’ll take it raw,  
no filters, no edits,  
just truth.  

Is it too much to ask  
for someone to stay,  
to look at me like I’m the only star  
in their dark sky?  
Or am I just searching  
for something that was never  
meant to be found?

There’s eleven players in soccer
I’m eleven in one, mother f*

I’m a goal keeper
And a striker
I feel as I go deeper—
I couldn’t be blinder.

We feel the pain
And still, we play.
A broken leg,
And still, we tread.

You’re a goal keeper
Striker and center field
But you won’t give up.
Do we have a deal?

Nothing
Unless
Monday to Monday something
Bothers you.

it wasn't stupid,
what you did,
you were in a moment --
and moments
can sometimes feel
like forever.
especially when
your chest is too full
and your options too small.

you felt trapped,
kind of like
every single door
you tried
was locked
from the inside,
and the walls
we're quietly
caving in
on you.

but there was no
clear solution.
there was
only noise,
only ache.
yet you still
did what you could
to survive it.

and that was
never
stupid.
it was
human.

i say
"i don't care"
like it's a piece of armour --
almost like if i say it
enough
itll become
true.

but my soul,
it still aches.
in the middle of the
darkness,
in the silence,
it remebers
what my mouth
tries to forget.

i don't care.
but only
out loud,
the rest of me
still cares --
in the darkness,
and in the silence.