[170] Haiku x10


to shake, shiver, quake, quiver
to fight through the night

two ideas aren’t
mutually exclusive;
dreams intersect truth

one can be at once
two thought never together:
asleep and awake

through a twisted world
of distorted reflections
in all directions

bend reality
to see what’s been long obscured
by opaque objects

through this altered lens
transparency lends vision
to the imagined

thoughts shouldn’t be thought
not part of this existence;
don’t assume a lie

all stories are told
from a source who conjured truth;
fabricate percieved

searching for the lines
separating false from true
yields no absolutes

stories have no bounds
edgeless in length, width, and depth
all is one is all


[65] Patches


Pretending it isn’t there
Didn’t hide it from me,
Doesn’t make it go away,
Won’t make you feel better.

Patching up the little lies
With silence or denial
Thinking while I’ll overlook
These little holes again?

I want you to tell me
Even if the problem is me
Because I assume the worst
When I’ve nothing else to go with.

I never forced you to stay;
But you don’t see it that way.

Believe Me

Told to “not hold back my emotions”.

“don’t bottle things up!”

No, you don’t want to actually see that.

You don’t know

don’t know what you’d be in for

you’d be in for a lot of hurt.

It’s not worth it, okay?

“It’s unhealthy! You’re damaging yourself!”

I’m okay.

“…I don’t believe you.”

What do you want me to say? I’m fine, let it be.

“Are you sure?”


“I don’t believe you.”

And why not? Why do you not believe me? I contradict myself? I contradict myself. I’m sorry. I’m okay. Believe me? You don’t believe me. I want you to believe me. Do you not trust me? I need you to believe I’m okay because I’m okay. I know I said I wasn’t okay but I’m okay. Believe me, I am. I’m okay. Believe me.


“I don’t know?”

What the hell do you want me to say?


Fine, you want me to not hold back my emotions? Fine.

I’m sick of being told that I can control my emotions by a girl who’s never suffered a single hardship of her own, sick of her deciding that all my problems can be fixed that easily. I’m sick of that guy who expects everything and returns nothing. I’m sick of my body and how little it will let me sleep, mainly because I stay up to four in the fucking morning trying to keep everything from falling apart. Why the hell doesn’t anyone believe me? You make me doubt myself!

I’m sick of my stomach refusing every scrap of food I give it, and sick of people around me acting like it’s no big deal. Sick of society saying that every symptom I suffer is a sign of the season, that is to say, an unavoidable side-effect of adolescence, when I know that’s bullshit and a cover for their own insecurity. Since when the hell did everyone stop listening? Do they even hear at all? Why the hell doesn’t anyone believe me? They make me doubt myself!

I’m sick and tired of a lot of things. I’m sick. I’m tired. Part of me wants to be screamed at and the other wants to scream back, but I hold back, and I stand back, hoping these urges will back off. Spoiler alert: they won’t.

You don’t believe me. And I’d say “I don’t FUCKING care anymore!”, but that would be a lie, because I care way more than nothing. I care a hell of a lot about how much I hurt, that’s a fact. Maybe I am just a selfish individual who has no thought or care for anyone else and every single apparent display of such empathy is just an emotionally abusive, manipulative attempt to gain control of everyone around me.

Because maybe in my head it’s all me, me, me. Shut up. Calm down. How can you ask that? Just shut up. Stop yelling. Stop fucking shouting, I can’t hear anything else. I want to hear nothing. I want to stop feeling. Be numb. Shut up, that’s ridiculous. Kill me. Grow the fuck up. Who are you talking to? Do you even believe me? Believe me. Believe me. Believe me. Believe me. Believe me. Believe me. Believe me. Believe me. Belie//ve me. Believe me. B&&eliev&[help]e me. Be[please help me///]lie^ve m\\e. Belieeeeeeeeee//////eeeeeee/eeeeeeeee///////eeeeee////eeeee\\:####




[YES]  [NO]  [DEBUG]



“I’m sorry”


It’s All Back

The shift of the air in the storm,
And the warmth in your heart in my dreams,
But the cold and the dark of this day,
Or the dread of the lost soul who gleams…

Words that aren’t mine, but melodies that are…
Emotions overwhelm me, make me feel vulnerable.
Overspoken secrets don’t have much impact;
Striving for attention is most dishonorable.

A flash of hope, but to escape or succeed?
Unsure who really committed the crime…
I’m sorry my friend, I know I deserved this…
Hiding behind lies, fabricating stories through rhyme…

…No, you’re not all fake to me. Please, come back to me.