is it better to speak or to die? i think you should always speak.

discontented (may 2026)

“Swallow it.”

Tried to hold on, but

the memory comes flooding

back. I shove it

                                          down.

Ode to my childhood

Now a memory,
Fading
Happy
Bright
I think of you daily
To go back all of the way
Not to early
But to find the
Sweet spot
Close
Loving
Not one of arguments, that now
I can't remember
Only left with
An aching
Feeling
A fuzziness
That I can't seem to let go of
I miss you.

“23”

It’s like a list that goes on
I’ve seen the number more times than I can

count

5 times in Tennessee.
not that I’m keeping

count

The concert was good.
twisters
If you remember that
I think that’s still one of my favorite trips ever
now
just a memory
My stomach hurts really bad
How many times did I tell you that?
more times than you can

count

I’m curious why you sent that
and then didn’t

answer…

It’s a pattern almost
                                        Are you trying to hold on?
or

                                        Are you trying to hold back?
I wish we could go back home.
we both know what I mean by that
I don’t care if I’m too direct
or
maybe I shouldn’t tell you that.
It’s okay it doesn’t

count

anymore
You know I’ve never been very good at that
                   I hope that part of me never changes.
                   I hope you change.
                   I hope you still think of me.
Like the reposts can you keep

count

Those are my indirect messages to you.
although
I’m sure you put that together by

now
or
maybe not.

A gut feeling (spoiler i was right)

I know that I should not believe in the irrational
But I feel the fear in me take over, it is the pilot and I am held hostage
I have done best to voice my fear, and was met with warmth and understanding
I still cannot help but hold on to the idea, that maybe it is not the truth
And the truth is what I think, irrational or not
I want to  s  h   i    f     t    my focus
I want to be free
And im done crying
I am seeing the worst version of myself and yet I can not help it
I  feel so      alone       and       small
I've gotten out of this hole before
But im not so sure why it keeps coming back
I feel as if there is something wrong with me
I feel shame, but mostly sadness, and frustration
I'm pleading for help, from me to me, for my brain to stop what it has been doing

I am done being a prisoner to myself.

We will never be “just friends”

I never wanted it to be casual
i cant be casual
with you.
specifically

june 16th (Please let me keep just this one.)  

3 years ago today 

I think this was the most nervous I’ve been in my life, even now it makes my palms sweat. my stomach is turning a little too, just not in the way it did before. Before everything happened between us: and now 3 years later, it’s like you didn’t even exist. But I’d really like to just keep this one. This one memory. 

That was my first time at that movie theater too. I drove us. Something I didn’t know would become the regular between us. I could feel every single breath I took during that movie. My heart was racing the whole time. Too aware of every part of my body. I wonder if you felt the same. I wore my Miami sweatshirt of course, I’ll leave you to guess what shirt you had on. One of your favorites. It’s been a while since you wore that one though hasn’t it? 

You couldn’t open the hi-chews you brought. That was my first time tasting them. Apple was my favorite, it still is. Except I don’t really like to eat them that much anymore. You tried to do that little karate chop thing with it but your hands were so sweaty you asked me to do it for you. I thought that was cute. I felt relaxed after I felt the ocean forming in your hands. It wasn’t just me.

I think we held hands. I can’t really remember now. The memory is kind of forming its own, I don’t know if you played music, or if we chatted the entire ride home. Probably a mix of both, I’m curious what we were joking about that day. I know you did your little laugh though. The one that you do around your friends, it’s a little different than the one you do when we are alone. A little unfamiliar, but comforting. I didn’t want to drop you back off, at all. I actually drove the speed limit that time, maybe under it, just to have a little longer with you. 

I hoped I could just keep this a little longer. please.

Maybe that was my first sign. You’re good at hiding your emotions, at least now I know that. Maybe 3 years too late. I’ve learned to read between the lines. 

A grave yard only she knows.

August 31
September 1
September 3
September 8-10
September 12
September 13
September 23 
September 25
September 26
September 27
October 3
October 5 
October 7
October 9
October 11 
October 12 

come and see me.

I don't wanna asked to be loved.

maybe we can catch up this week. I wanna tell you about my weekend and show you what I got earlier.

excerpt from “Peach” by Kayla besler

"I remember leaving the bar, but I don't remember getting in my Uber. I remember leaning my back against my front door when I finally made it home, but I don't remember pulling out my keys, or turning the knob to let myself in.

It's so strange the things your brain chooses to remember and let go of, after paddling its way through alcohol for hours.

My best friend texts me wondering where I went. I have a habit of leaving when I am ready, without giving any notice to the group of people I no-doubt spent hand in hand with all night; sweaty tank-topped bodies moving in sync and lips smiling on a dim lit dance floor. My best friend says it is my worst trait, the leaving, and I've always thought she was sweet for pretending that's the worst of it." (page 13)

brainfog

I had this nightmare last night. it was another tornado, I swear this is a reoccurring dream. Not like the one i had when I was little, although I can recall those just as well. they scare me in the moment, but I find comfort in the fact i'm brought back to the same "world" in my head. Its like I have something important to finish, someone to save, something to discover. My sister was with me this time, she was just as scared as the other day when we were in red plum. For once I feel like the older one when she gets upset at the storm. The harder I try to think about the dream, the more I feel like its falling out of place. I need to leave it untouched. Maybe when I close my eyes i'll go back into that world. Like its waiting for me. It's nice to think my imagination is still in tact. Just like when i was 5,7,13, 15. I'm not sure at what point I'm supposed to stop the daydreaming or the nightmares. I've always been a vivid dreamer. I want to go back to my other worlds. Regardless of how fucked up it is in there. Its nice to feel apart of the story.

a great friend

I remember playing soccer with you in elementary.
I remember elementary and middle school, I had a crush on you pretty much the whole time. 
I remember track season, and the one you trained extra hard for.
I remember your laugh, you were always laughing.
I remember our talks, right before the races, saying stupid shit to calm our nerves. 
I remember you always being optimistic, sweet, kind, thoughtful. 
I remember applying to Baldwin Wallace, a big reason being because of you, and all the great things you had to say of the team and the school.
I remember being excited at the idea of being on a team with a past classmate.  
I remember our last conversation and I wish I could have another, this time not in my dreams.
I remember you. 
I miss you.
I hope you’re doing well. 

ifeelsick.

The comments. The inside jokes. A constant reminder that you talk to her every day. Some type of unsaid conversation only you two know. I know because that used to be me. Friendly or not. It makes me sick to my stomach. It’s my fault for even checking your profile anyway. Both of our stories still up with years of memories. Countdowns. Till either of us came home. 
That home isn’t there anymore. 
You’re probably talking to someone new. My mind has already decided. “I rlly hate you” I don’t even need the context to know that it really means the opposite. But again my mind has already decided. Its a funny thing how unreliable my own brain can be. Filling in assumptions, making up a story, piecing a puzzle that doesn't need put together.
Maybe I’m right or maybe there is “nothing to worry about” just like you said. Just like you promised. But I don’t have any reason to trust those promises. 
those pinky promises. 
Anymore do I. I have so many things I want to ask. But I won’t. For my own sanity. And to save you from lying.
Would you? 
I wonder if you actually meant the things you said to me when we had our last conversation. As time goes on, I see your posts. I see the comments others leave. To me those words you told me seem like a sweet lie. Just to get my hopes up. I know you. But I really don’t. Not now. I feel like your posts are sending more than one message.

The sun. I see it. I know you see the moon too. 

But I’m sure there was something meant for someone else too. 

The texts zoomed in without their name in it, 
or maybe even the clever captions. I’m sure Kevin knows! 

you know exactly what I’m talking about. 

I see it. 

At least that’s what I’m gathering. 
Tell me I’m wrong. 

It makes me feel sick.
You. 
Make me feel sick. 

A quote from no soul

“One thing I’ve noticed from everything you’ve shared over the past few months is that you’ve never talked about them with anger. You’ve talked about confusion, sadness, missing them, and wanting closure.  That makes me think your love for them hasn’t disappeared, it just doesn’t have a place to go right now.”

Vienna’s memoriam

She peers at the trap on the other side of the yard, checking it out.
She returns to the wooden fence, but Vienna is nowhere to be seen.
Oh, Vienna is nowhere to be seen.

Please hurry up and finish this.

Oh. Mom hasn't come home.
You were so worried, as if I'd committed a crime.
Go on. Because I'm buried in the ground. Buried.
Who am I? Big? Tall? Small?
Who did I kill?
Vienna...this is a memoriam.

October 23, 2024

who are you when no ones watching?

someone who sits in silence?
yearning for those no longer in 
direct contact?
no need to keep tabs on
everyone who comes and goes.
you know you're the one responsible for creating your own happiness. 

the sun sets at 8:30 now

it is august.
i don't recognize that girl from may.
i am becoming anew.
it is a reassuring feeling.
im no longer taking steps back.
unlike the sun
that now sets at 8:30 pm
i would like to stay out a little longer.
stay with me?

IN my dream

I walked out of a building 

to my left was a flash of a familiar face

as I continued to walk 

I took another glance

to see you laughing 

and our eyes locked 

I did not step towards you 

just a wave of acknowledgement 

as if we were strangers in passing

I continued to step forward 

you did not follow. 

it was almost like real life. 

except I can’t tell the difference from my nightmares.

you are not for everyone.

It almost worked.

I've been wondering how much someone can take from another person before they can shut them out completely.

"you're a piece of shit"
"it was called for"
"you're a goddamn liar"
"you did it first"
"i'm too tired for this"
"I hope I will never be like you"
"maybe you should go back and fuck him again I bet you'd like it better this time"
"i'm not doing this right now"
"Seriously?"
"you're just like the rest of them."
" 'I was drunk' "
"sorry!"

It doesn't have to be such vulgar statements either, you can pick up on the little jabs

"alright"
"yeah sorry"
"got it"
"right"
"ok"
"fine"

Sometimes I wonder if its a mask,

where is the boy who laid in bed and let me trace his back?
where is the boy who stayed up till 2 a.m talking?

Was this my doing?
That's been the only thing repeating in my mind.
The consequences of my own actions.
At what point am I allowed to forgive myself?


your colors are showing. 
This wasn’t the first time you’ve said hurtful things. called for or not. I wonder if you’ve ever spoken to other people like this. Heated moment or not,
                        
             Do you think its fair?

I thought we were better than that.


this isn't an attack by the way.
unless you take it that way.
i doubt you'll see this anyway.

Do you tense up when you reread what we had sent to each other?
What about feeling a pit in your stomach.

I do.
Nauseous. 
Just like the first night on your bathroom floor. 


What was your reaction to the picture I had sent?
Now imagine watching that in front of you for 15 minutes.
I couldn't look away. As much as it made me feel sick.
Kinda funny to me the things you said about her before



Was it easy to pretend?



I see myself in you.
and I know that it didn't make you feel good.

I wonder how much more we can take from each other.
Without completely destroying whatever is left.
You're too engraved in me these last 7 weeks.

I'm leaving you with claw marks
most things that meant something to me have them.


i'm sorry.


I still believe that everything happens for a reason
I wonder if you do too. 

bad girls-dinner-single-blood orange