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#spilled thoughts

Ruthless –

Cold with broken windows

I live inside the infinite moments where

stones are thrown through glass houses.

It’s the only life I know, one filled with

treachery and halfhearted destruction.

Your ambivalence scars me just as much

as the thought of being left behind

but in my ruin I can see that your

presence here is only because of

the absence of another.

And I would rather be alone than pitied.

- K.U.

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Over the last few months, I’ve come to realize that some people are just straight up not texters. They either don’t reply, reply very late, or reply with no intent to carry on the conversation.

People have lives. They’re not always on their phones. They’re also probably dealing with more important things than talking to me. I’m still learning to accept that.

I just like talking to you. I like being around you. I like you. But I will always battle with the possibility that you might not like me back the same way.



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my throat it burns

of stolen alcohol

my knucles they sting

warmed with the blood from the walls

but my head is cleared

well at least for a second

maybe i ache for a fight

between anyone but my mind

because the rope is thin from this game of tugawar

my arms are out of blood to cry

my eyes are out of tears to bleed

so ill fill my soul with stolen alcohol

and wake from this conscious dream

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People talk a lot about fate

How there’s a reason that you’re here

There’s a reason that things happen

That there’s a reason you are where you are

But have you ever thought that maybe it’s fate that I’m not supposed to be here

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I’m so disgusted in myself,

So disappointed,

It gets so bad,

That these days,

I have to shower with the light off,

And wear baggy clothes,

If there’s a mirror anywhere close by,

I glance away within a millisecond,

I’ve been pushed into a corner,

Two walls against my body

One that I’d have to change who I am

And two

That I learn to love who I am

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My family doesn’t know love without fists and I think that’s where it all went wrong

Some people are

Raised with precious words and milky skin

And others are

Dragged up from the roots with bloody knees and chipped teeth

He tried to bury us

And we’re still scrubbing dirt off of us

After nearly ten years

My sister

raised with precious words and milky skin still knows what dirt tastes like

My brother

Dragged up and raised with bruised knees and precious words

Still carries the guilt of not telling anyone

And me

Dragged up from the roots and still scrubbing dirt off of me still scrubbing fingerprints and bruises and my moms screams off of me

- tried to bury us but forgot we already knew what dirt tasted like

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“we get what we deserve” / @drearydaffodil
we get what we deserve when we know not of what deserving means. we simply accept the reality of situations as if all is beyond our control. we get what we deserve when we only shape with our hands and not our minds. we simply build the concrete and not the intangible. bridges without human bonds. in the end, all we get is what we get.
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sure i did something wrong, but the person inside me isn’t wrong, and there are people who still loves me, and accepts what i have inside. And that, I should be grateful. Those aren’t little things, those things keep me going.

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