MY WRITING

hello and welcome to my page for my writing..! in here, i post poetry i have written, as well as other musings and creative thought processes that may interest you. i really do hope you enjoy my little world.

this page is currently a work in process!

i will feel your bones break into my skin,
as the morning rises i feel them in their entirety
i said we would be truly, hopelessly, forever together
that truly meant nothing to you.

spill myself and my life on the ground for you,
an obsession derived from pained insecurity
i felt like my lungs were burning
and my eyes were unable to cry
felt like i had been knocked over
only to rise and learn to fly.

what would have happened if you had stayed?
would we have grown old yet rotten together?
i feel like you wouldve taken advantage
and still try to drown me, it’s so sad

i can hear your glow in the distant
future where the buildings are intact
and the foundation is firm and
our kids are playing outside.
i felt the warmth of the grass, of the
empty blistering sun, and as i stared
at the cloudless sky
i felt myself lose a piece of my mind.
What is faith if not granted
for those philosophers who think of answers
i have a thought that I always go to
whenever i sit on this field in April
And as i look and observe
i can sense God the almighty
i’ve committed grave sins unwanted
that i will take to the tomb with me
and in these plains I feel his presence
but
(it’s impossible for me to get it)
for i am a sinner and he is a saint
my father told me i was going to hell
and ever since then i’ve stayed quiet
the clock keeps ticking and i don’t want it
i’ll close my eyes,
say his name in vain,
and drift away
to somewhere where none of this
matters.
what a waste it is
to believe in redemption
change does not exist
and that's something i learned
while with you while dead
i can hear myself in your head
the sound of your disappointment
it fills me with so much stress
people are still living and walking
and you are screaming and i am sobbing
so loud
these venomous material words
insults thrown in order to make the blood boil
you'll never accept me for who i really am
but soon i'll be hopefully alone
so alone


fri, nov 5
Why do I exist? I'm inferior to everyone in every possible way.
dear,
i'll be good for you
and ill never let go of the shame
when you look at me like that
i feel my body shackled against yours
youre so special to me
i want you to be my only thought
my head so blissfully empty next to yours
i want to feel discarded and used
the substance make me feel your
calloused hands against mine
dissoluted into vanity
everything i know is so wrong
your aura is holy, your presence
comforting, and i would do
anything just to stay with you
even if you don't love me, i will
always stay by your side, waiting
till you come back
faithful in denial
but i don't know anything else
i don’t know anything else.

(at the wedding, the chimes, the people objected, and the angels did too)
The ringing bells in the distance
the church sits on a pedestal
the statues sing a choir
and this choir is heard all over
from continent to continent
though I can smell the blood of the corpses and I can smell the smoke from the chimneys.

I'm in a store where everything's cheap
small and basic utensils to eat
when the rapture comes he goes forward to me
tells me I'm chosen to be the next king

I had a dream that we were on the parking lot
and He was telling me the truth about the world
felt the entirety of my body dissolve
while he told me I was going to become a god
but not of the skies and not of the ground

I would be stuck inside of a wall
the walls of this place, one punishment down
the fires envelop the earth as a whole
the screaming and crying of mothers along

I never thought that I’d be immortal
that I’d be considered transcendent and loving
that I’d be omnipotent and also important
but not enough to sit alongside him.
i would run away, while you wait for me to come
i would run away, to the salted beach i’d go
id run through every nook and cranny of the forest beside me
and you’d come looking for me, not knowing i am drowning

there’s an art to running away, to running from your problems
to running from situations, that nobody deserves going through
and though i am forgiven for my sudden escape
i don’t forgive the people that made me go this way

i’ll think about you, while i’m poisoning myself
i’ll think about you, while i’m mauling my face
i’ll think about you, while i’m running away
because the suicidal ideation carried my soul through the day
there was a day venus fell from the sky
and crashed the earth into millions of pieces
the asteroids flew through the stars
and the sky dissolved into a mass of weakness
and so
the day, venus fell from the sky
everyone knew it was going to happen
they hid in their bunkers their houses and
basements
but nobody could stop it from falling down
and while they saw the red sky and the burning
object, they held their breath
and some said their prayers
yet nothing could stop venus from falling
and destroying everything as they knew it
for
human life
meant nothing to venus.
I want your sickened skin, your head, and wicked heart
I want to scratch your carpet until there’s no feeling left for either of us
This is our life and once we’re done, we’ll die and God will
bless our hearts, and clear our minds.
I want to craft the end of the world, I want to burn the house
we live in, I want to lose your belongings and my arms and cry in
the ground all alone.
Because things die all the time, and no exception will be made,
even if we kiss as if it was our first time.
Please hold my hand until we say goodbye.
Can I just think about something positive?
Like passion in a garden of pale pink roses?
Like garden wreaths on doors where the sun shines?
I want to believe that life is beautiful, because I can
sit in my bed all I want and write depressing poetry
while listening to awful shoegaze, but it won’t change the fact
that I am deserving of love and deserving of pride
of confidence without any sort of denial.

I love the smiles of the people around me, I
love the concept of finding your soulmate,
I’d love to go romantic skygazing and I’d love
to walk amongst scattered petals beside
a wedding arch, as a pardon.

I love life.
-

Draped plants cover the room,
extending and twisting their vines towards me
I feel so happy in their chokehold
dear god, i hate you more than i hate myself Starved of touch, I heard about you
from a couple of friends, and my heart
fluttered, and I had to deal with the fallout
of the truth I saw through.
/////

Don't you understand?
I can't figure out the source of the sound
that's ringing in my head.
There's broken bones in my body,
connected to my eardrum and
knocking the doors of my tissue and brain.
I feel sharp glass intoxicate your throat
and it's coming from me.
Don't you understand?
I can't figure out the source of the sound
that's ringing in my head.
I can see your body and I can feel the breath on my neck.
All the problems I had are showing their vile heads,
Don't you understand?
I'm the one who took your damned pain away.
And even though I feel as if I'm empty, made of broken glass and meant to be discarded I still have a sense of superiority about myself, but it definitely stems from severe self hatred. Even though my body feels as if it's moving by itself and I'm seeing myself through the lens of someone else I still somehow believe in this reality. Even when omens present themselves to me, I just keep ignoring the fact that this world is meant to make me suffer. That my life is a tragedy, and I'm the main character of my story. I’m going to heaven with or without you. God damn you all.
The darkened stairwell was ominous, grand, and rusted with years of wear.
While he walked down it, the sharpened creaks would sound all throughout the building.

The room under the stairwell was nothing short of equally grimly. Filth littered the floor, dust covered the surfaces, and the walls were broken down and tattered. And in the middle of the empty room, bottles of alcohol were carelessly placed one after the other around a big and worn down blue couch; in which, a darkened shadowed figure was sitting.

His mouth tasted bitter, of bile, the closer he got to the figure, getting closer and closer from the overwhelming and unnatural, controlled desire he had to get closer.

…Until he was struggling to walk and scratches were appearing across his back. When he was only a few centimeters away from the figure, his mouth filled with blood, as the now visible man stood up and stared darkly at him. As he was vomiting blood upon the floor and kissing prayers to God, the man was laughing loudly. The defeat he felt, the deceit, the remorse. It was all hitting him and stabbing him through the throat, and he felt as if his speech was chopped into pieces, unable to say anything to the man who was laughing.

As the sickness got to him, he stared at his hands. Rotting, rotting hands. Little specks of necrotic flesh would appear between his fingers, and they were soaked in blood- he couldn’t help but fall to the floor in a crouched position - something the man took notice of if him beginning to kick the person standing in front of him meant anything. Yet the whole time, no tears were spilled from the man being hurt, but they were at the corners of the eyes of the man hurting the other.

What a drag, being woken up.
///

“That’s a lot of stuff that you’re going through, man…”