Trapped
i am trapped
in a world
a world unknown to me
what is true
what is uncertain
the light
the darkness
the good
the bad
happiness
sadness
everything feels interchangeable
when you trust
they hurt you
when you do not trust
you hurt yourself
either way
the damage arrives
i wrap myself
in a vicious circle
round and round
no exit sign
no pause
routine consumes me
slowly
quietly
loneliness
my most consistent companion
i spend my days
wanting to be like everyone else
forgetting
how to be myself
i love
and i give everything
in the end
i am the only one left empty
suffering
depression
words people call normal
hurt
does it even matter anymore
love
what the fuck is that
live
for what
family
home
i do not even know
what home means
pain and regret
run in my veins
i drown in memories
punishments
care
weary tears
i was born
i loved
i hated
what else is left
a world
an unknown world
the same one
i once tried to survive
memories come and go
i do not know where i am
or why i am here
the only thing i know
the only thing that stays
is the image
of you
leaving
Column
i remember telling you once
that i would stop writing about people
people who somehow
always end up hurting me
hurting me enough
to make me cry
the kind of cry
that feels like grief
regrettably
those people become important
i see them every day
i talk to them
and slowly
without noticing
they become part of my routine
my day to day
i get used to their presence
the sound of their voice
their laugh
their humor
even their habits
and i begin to build around them
i feel calm with them
safe
alive
after a while
i realize how much they matter
i tell them
they say they feel it too
a friendship forms
so close
it feels structural
like if they disappear
everything collapses
they become irreplaceable
it happened to me again
recently
i did not think too much at first
i let it grow quietly
and unfortunately
things did not work out
honestly
i ruined it
i know that
and now that he is gone
i feel alone
abandoned
sad in a way that sits in the chest
the worst part
he seems unaffected
he looks the same
steady
untouched
no visible sign
that he needed me
that hurts more than the leaving
i made him a column in my life
one of the pillars
holding everything upright
firm
stable
and when it was time to give back
what was given
i failed
you were attentive
and instead of returning that care
i became greedy
i wanted more
more
and more
i am sorry
i know things will not be the same
i accept that
i just hope
that one day
when you look back
you see me
and understand
it was never my intention to harm
and maybe
in that future
i will be different
not someone else
just
better
Projection
when she met him
she was already cracked
already carrying too much silence
alone
aching
trying to survive her own thoughts
he smiled
and it felt like rescue
he hugged
and it felt like shelter
he cared
or at least he performed it well
she trusted him
his words
his promises
she believed him
every sentence he spoke
became scripture
his smile
a miracle
his kisses
oxygen
she did not notice
how easily she handed him divinity
he wore tenderness
like a tailored suit
a rehearsed hero
just for her
and she
already fragile
slipped naturally
into the role of damsel
what she did not see
what she refused to see
was the thin string
looped around his ears
holding everything in place
the smile
the softness
the illusion
it was a mask
and by the time the fabric shifted
by the time she saw the seams
it was too late
she was broken again
and him
he had already replaced the mask
polished it
reshaped it
and added another heart
to the quiet collection he carries
The unedited version
When I saw you
i fell in love
but you did not
so i began negotiating with myself
i changed my attitude
softened my edges
lowered my volume
i changed my hair
my clothes
the way i walked into rooms
i changed my manners
my routine
my favorite things
i edited my words
filtered my thoughts
reshaped my laughter
little by little
i convinced myself
it was growth
but it was hunger
i changed myself
for you
and when i finally stood in front of you
wearing this polished version
this carefully constructed compromise
you looked at me
like i was a stranger
you did not recognize me
and that is when it settled
i changed
but you
without even realizing
you had fallen for
who i used to be
the unedited one
the loud one
the honest one
the one i erased
and suddenly
it was too late
because i did not know
how to become her again
Notes to self
be honest
even when it would be easier to stay quiet
be understanding
because everyone is carrying something unseen
be loyal
not only to others
but to your own values
be truthful
even when your voice shakes
be open minded
let the world be bigger than your assumptions
be thoughtful
with your words
they live longer than you think
be considerate
empathy is a quiet power
be reliable
be someone who keeps their promises
be mature
choose growth over ego
be kind
especially when it is inconvenient
be friendly
warmth changes rooms
be happy
or at least allow yourself the chance to be
be unselfish
but not at the cost of your own peace
be cheerful
find light where you can
be broad minded
curiosity keeps you alive
be tactful
truth does not need cruelty
be appreciative
notice the small mercies
be respectful
to others
and to yourself
be grateful
even for lessons disguised as loss
be observant
there is meaning in the details
be lively
let your spirit move freely
be creative
turn your life into art
but most important
be yourself
not a diluted version
not a quieter version
not the version that fits someone else’s comfort
just you
fully
without apology
2:48AM
today is one of those nights
when everything loses its meaning
one of those nights
where i stare at the ceiling
as if it might answer me
as if cracks in the paint
could form explanations
one of those nights
where i search for reasons
for justifications
for something that makes the ache make sense
one of those nights
where my heart keeps beating
but time refuses to move
where the world continues somewhere else
and i remain suspended
between thought and feeling
one of those nights
where i cry quietly
so quietly
even the dark does not notice
i swallow my words
let them dissolve behind closed lips
while my eyes slowly shut
not because i found peace
but because exhaustion
sometimes feels like mercy
Missing
sometimes
it is good to close your eyes
and think about the people
who are no longer here
the ones we know are not coming back
at least not in the way we once held them
when i do
there is this quiet warmth
like sunlight through closed curtains
it feels like they are still around
watching over me
standing somewhere just beyond what i can see
protecting
guiding
knowing
knowing how much i love them
knowing how deeply i still miss them
grief is strange like that
it hurts
but it also glows
even though i cannot see them anymore
even though i cannot hear their voice
or feel their hands
they live somewhere steady inside me
every memory
every laugh
every lesson
every small ordinary moment
kept safe
within the love that never left
missing someone does not mean they are gone
it means they mattered
it means they still matter
and sometimes
closing my eyes
is enough to feel them again
Red String
It all begins with an idea.
there is an old chinese legend
about an elderly woman
who walks through the world at night
tying red string around people’s pinkies.
at the other end of each thread
is the person they are destined to meet.
no matter the distance.
no matter the time.
no matter the chaos in between.
i look at my own hands sometimes
and imagine the string.
thin. invisible.
stretched across cities
across versions of myself
across mistakes i have not stopped replaying.
who is tied to the end of mine?
what kind of heart holds the other side?
are they soft?
are they patient?
are they someone who will understand
why i overthink silence
why i memorize tone
why i hesitate before jumping?
will i be happy when our threads finally pull tight?
or will it feel familiar
like something i almost recognized once?
and sometimes the thought unsettles me
what if i have already met them?
what if our strings brushed
and i called it coincidence?
what if i felt the pull
and mistook it for fear?
what if destiny stood in front of me
and i chose comfort instead?
i wonder if the string ever tangles
if it ever waits
if it ever forgives hesitation.
i wonder
if it is still pulling.
Attachment Style
It all begins with an idea.
i am the kind of person who can build galaxies out of crumbs.
give me a word and i will stretch it into a paragraph.
give me a dot and i will swear it is a constellation waiting to be named.
i have always loved meaning.
i dissect tone, pauses, the way someone says “okay.”
i read between lines that were never even written.
everything feels symbolic. everything feels layered.
but here is the part that unravels me.
when love leaves, i cannot decode it.
i cannot annotate heartbreak.
i cannot outline my way out of it.
i watch people close chapters like they are turning off a light.
breakups, illusions, one sided loves
they fold them neatly and move forward.
i do not.
once i let someone in,
once i attach,
my nervous system memorizes them.
the sound of their laugh.
the timing of their replies.
the almosts.
and when it ends,
i loop.
round and round
like a hamster convincing itself the wheel is progress.
like running in circles hoping the ground will open into an exit.
i cry over what was
and what never even was.
over spilled milk
over imagined futures
over potential.
i tell myself i need to learn how to move on.
i tell myself i need to stop magnifying the small things.
to stop turning crumbs into universes.
to become lighter. less attached.
but maybe the lesson is not becoming a different person.
maybe it is learning how to hold depth without drowning in it.
how to feel fully without looping endlessly.
i do not need to erase who i am.
i just need to learn
how to step off the wheel…
