Ink runs through my veins and occasionally spills out of my fingertips. Reveries written under dè wings of poesy within sentient clouds called Joan (EST. 2019).
Joined March 2018
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True intimacy is when someone understands the walls you built for your own protection and approaches them with patience instead of pressure.
I just read a post on Instagram that said “I wish we were all born with matching tattoos with our soulmates, so we could find each other without wasting time on people who were never meant to care for us”.
It feels like someone reached into my ribs, plucked out my frail and fluttering heart like wilting rose, and then let it slip though their fingers like falling dust, weightless and forgotten.
Here’s to a new year of softer hearts, braver dreams and stories yet unwritten. May we learn from our scars grow through our quiet moments and meet tomorrow with hope in our hands. ❣️
To the most talented one named Dawersa. I hope the next year brings every good thing your way, in the same way you’ve brought goodness to the people around you.
All I ever wanted was a reason; some fragment of truth to hold on to. Instead you left me drowning in questions, forcing me to stitch together excuses that were never mine to make.
I would have carried the weight of your honesty, no matter how heavy, rather than this silence that shatters me. It feels cruel, this vanishing act of yours, as if my heart was something disposable, as if my pain was invisible.
Thinking of someone until silence turns into a scream, waiting for them to return, tracing back every step to see where it went wrong, asking what was lacking, searching for ways to mend it, until the head aches, the heart bruises, and the mind grows unbearably loud.
Don’t ghost people. Don’t vanish without closure. Because when you do, the mind becomes a storm that never settles, the heart an empty vessel echoing with questions. It leaves a mind convinced it went wrong, a heart believing it was never enough.
Six years ago, I got to feel what it was like to have a boyfriend who really loved me, and friends who made everything feel so fun. If I could turn back time, I’d keep all of you in my pocket just so none of you would leave, and we’d still be together now.
The past two months have hollowed me out. I feel myself slipping further from the light, clawing at a sky that doesn’t answer. I don't know what the new month holds but I only know I am running out of strength to wait for better days
Betrayal doesn’t just break hearts—it shatters the way you see yourself. It leaves you staring at your own reflection, wondering, ‘Was I ever enough?’ ‘Did I deserve this?’. But the cruelest part isn’t the lies, it’s the trust I gave so freely.
The way I placed my heart in your hands, certain you wouldn’t let it fall—only to watch you let it slip like it never meant anything at all. My mind is drowning in questions I’ll never dare to ask. What else have you done behind my back? How many truths have I mistaken for lies?