Hi.
I don't know if you're real. I don't know if you're out there. I don't know if I should be directing this letter at myself. I don't know if these words could ever be about anyone else. There&
Latest
Who are you?
Are you the girl who tenderly whispered that you would like to live by my side? Are you the maniac who tossed your head back laughing as sadness filled my eyes? Are you the woman whose radiant locks shone golden in the setting sun? Are you the boy who smiled
How it started vs How it's going
The start: 2025/04/22 Freedom Safety Connection Everything else may be transient I'm still in a phase of development Uncomfortable out of my element That probably means it's working Pleasure need not stay lurking The now: 2025/09/16
I used to feel ashamed of this picture.
People would look at me with pity, but their kindness was nowhere to be seen. I turned from empty platitudes, seeking shelter through a screen. I stopped getting cat called at least, those same men now recoiled. I stopped hearing about how my beauty made me obnoxiously spoiled. Feeling unworthy
Kitchen Table Notes
Esme A quick note. I leave you little notes On a messy kitchen table Just my daily thoughts Or rants about the stars. Your dawn is my good night And I live my life while you're asleep. So we scribble on a screen And speak our idle thoughts.
Dear younger me:
You don't know me, but I know you, though I've only recently gotten to a deep enough level to be able to understand you and the choices you have made. You'll never read this letter, though doing so would have changed the direction of
A letter I can't send
Dear mom: I miss you. It's so complicated, but right now that's the only thing I feel. The only thing I have space for. I want to cry, but I keep teetering on the edge. Admitting I love you feels like a bottomless pit I'
I'm on a quest to find everything that has ever felt good, figuring out why it felt good, and integrating it into my life
If I was a dragon I'd live in a cave on a lumpy pile of gold. Every treasure is drenched in blood and it's hard to clean with such big, sharp claws. Too long, doesn't fit. Clearly, I must learn once again—to transform.
By the time I clock off there's no more sunshine
Do you want to go to the beach? I'd like to take you there, with me. I guess that part was obvious. You can stay in my pocket for now. I'll take out a tripod and show you around. Will you appreciate the beauty I found?
I want to say things to you
I want to hold you in my arms and tell you it will all be okay. And if it's not, then I will hold you through the storm and make it okay. And if I can't, then I will help you make it okay. And if
Cognitive Dissonance
The you in my head and the you in the flesh are entirely different people. But I can't speak to actions and intentions you refuse to tell me about. So this is what I am left with. I know you to be a violent person who would repeatedly
I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR MENTAL HEALTH
how could you say that to me? I have a really bad memory. He doesn't like to behave. He sifts and sieves through information I do not care about, but when it comes to everything I love, he turns into a steel trap. I still remember. The smell
Poetry
I was raised by an artist
Black and white pictures hang on the walls Curdling talent Secrets unsung Knuckle stains from her brawl The blood in her mind covers scribbles in oil Rip out my whimsy Poison my lungs Remains willingly toil A gift from the ocean Colorful silks Mechanical oil Magic grows sick Package me
Poetry
Mom
It's never too late Your hair may be turning gray The moon shines brighter through the beauty of your age Will we really be estranged? Your love saved my life Am I not allowed to repay? I will cherish my wife Don't make me run away
Poetry
Dad
You were supposed to teach me how to swim Instead you held my head underwater Salt clogged up my lungs Slowed my circulation Hands stay cold Devoid Whirlpools in my chest suck the life out of everything But my heart still fell in love Ripped from the sun Through crashing
Poetry
A Pretty Big Secret
Would you hold my hand when I tell you this? I love you. These words are insufficient. I desire you. I want you. I fixate on every detail. You are the most special of my interests. I'm cooking in the pressure of these urges, an endless tide eroding
Poetry
House full of monsters
Shoutout Uzi for the collab his key Mother serves me up on a silver platter My dad wants my reality to shatter Invisible wire tightens around freshly grown wings It frightens me yet I prevail even when it stings Parroting back sharp words of the monster with which she lays
Poetry
Just a friend
I wake from slumber Logic sleeps don't have your number There's one connection I'd like to keep do you really notice me? I cannot share this delicate ache this feels like a mistake I'd make You've little monsters to escape
Writing
My Worst Nightmare
TW! All the trigger warnings. Seriously. I've been thinking about this question for a really long time. What is my worst Nightmare? Cause I've been through a lot. Ostracized, exorcised, cast out, cat called, shunned, avoided, publicly humiliated. None of that was a nightmare. I'
Poetry
Urgency
I want to write. I want to know what happens next, but that’s not how any of this works. Creation peels itself one onion layer at a time. Leaves fall from olive trees when they’re ready to unwind. So I nurture, I water, I feed, I order, I
Poetry
Love-drop
I think I might need aftercare from cuddles. Every step I’ve taken in this direction has been a struggle. In my mind it’s pretty simple: Pretty girls deserve pretty words pretty things pretty touches pretty rings. But in the light the ache turns inwards. I deserve to hide
Poetry
Break my glasses
My eyes are open But I do not want to see I cannot bear the conjuring escape reality What was right in front of me? What kind of monster looked at me? Eyes were hesitant to meet It was the beast I had to greet That night I fought for
Writing
"Tell me about the icicles"
Icicles cling, but they don't often stab. They hold on tight to tilted roofs and drip-drop their way to the ground. One drop at a time. Taking their time. What's the rush when the sun doesn't shine? I want to be an icicle. Maybe
Poetry
Flashlight
Fear of what the light doesn’t touch. Why do I find myself in a rush? Look away, focus on the gloom, I need this delay, trade weapons for tools. Intention. An important distinction. One fools fail to mention. Wield colorless tinctures. Open to new customs, I begin to try.