Silent love screams in my chest, yet stays hushed in your hands. Shattered like glass after he walked away, I gather the broken pieces—October and November’s perfect warmth now only scorches me. From safe hugs to panic attacks, home burned to ashes. This scattered poem is a heartbreak puzzle: self-harm, abandonment, endless ache. Piece it together if you dare—you’ll feel why I still love him in deafening silence. Forever.

This piece paints a vivid picture of despair and cynicism. Love and goodness are just fleeting illusions in a universe indifferent. It's a journey through a world where every hint of light is just a mask for the shadows beneath, where time turns what we cherish into emptiness.

This is written during the loss of my family to murder! It paints a vivid picture of anguish and longing. A soul crying out for release. Yearning for peace amidst darkness. Finding no love, only anguish, somberness, and anger. I felt nothing but pain!

Pain as Compass, Ghosts as Witnesses A ritual of survival carved in bruises and glowing fault lines. This poem walks the reader through a dark pilgrimage where sorrow leaves sigils and the road teaches in silence. Each step is a cracked rune, each ghost a nod toward truth. If you’ve ever carried pain like a lantern, this piece will feel like home — fractured, glowing, and quietly holy.

passage describes a dark ritual of symbolic death, unfolding in a shattered, funereal atmosphere. The imagery centers on: - Ashen bells and cracking salt circles that signal the tightening collapse of the self. - Black veils, guttering candles, and humming altar stones that create a room haunted by the memory of a fading heartbeat. - A shadow kneeling without the speaker, offering the last remnants of identity like coins for Charon — a symbolic payment for crossing from life into death. - A fountain for the dead and the River Styx reinforce the mythic transition. - The ritual ends not with release, but with a slow, heavy sinking — an emotional collapse rendered as a ceremonial passage.

I speak in Splinter's, language cracked like glass. There is a noise in the wall, bleeding into the floor boards,like spilled ink.

"I'll always be right by your side. Te quiero. A poem to every friend, and all who i love..if i dont make it.. 17. 20:47 jakey."

The judgement from the outside why you're struggling on the inside. Being misunderstood because you don't deal with people & things they way you use to.

"I am distinctly aware that my life as it was, is over. Yet my life as it is, is just the same. Insistently, almost, I sabotage every piece of happiness like a poison killing off any weak enough to succumb. You loved me. Forever."

This poem is about my friends and siblings. Despite my depression and situation, I can always count on them to make my day as amazing as possible. Yet, I am still not doing well; fighting my demons so I don't lose them..

11:05 a.m. gov. class 10 minute poem "I dont wanna leave my friends.." This poem is inspired by my sister, ri rii. I remember on an old server, I was instantaneously friending everyone. During one summer day, she joined the server, and I was like "ur my bestie now!" Now, almost a year later, she's my forever older sister. She's cared for me since day one, and I hope to be her forever little brother.

11:28 a.m., Gov. Class "Idk random thoughts and im just so grateful for my friends i really dont want to leave my friends.."

This poem..is very personal. During the time of this writing, I was going to end it. I wrote this as a final goodbye to my angels. Looking back, I realized how much this might of hurt them. However, who am I to say that when I'm in the same trapped, helpless bubble..?

15:12. This poem is inspired by Julia Alexa's song, "PRETTY WHEN I CRY." The song means a lot to me, and so does my poem.

10:56, government class. If you want to know what is in my mind, you might as well be in Tartarus. Beneath of my happiness, my joy, there is a layer of hurt and sadness.

my teenage dream is a bit different from others. Instead of going to the movies with friends, I watch movies through a screen with them. Instead of meeting up with friends, I meet them in voice calls. Yet, I wouldn't trade any of my teenage-hood for anything else. x

unfinished poem. "it hurts to write this. me no wanna go..me..hurt you..." but what hurts the most, is that i'm back in the same, if not, worse situation.

Wrote this at 10:39 in Government class. When I wrote this poem, I wanted to capture the innocence and happiness of my imaginary friend. I wanted to have a whimsical tone, yet almost nostalgic.

Wrote this during band class at 13:56. During this time, I missed my old self. I missed being happy. How strange it is to be, once here again..

When will they announce that the Earth is no longer habitable and that they are hiring those who are still well enough to serve them to make them their rocket ships to the New World What will their speeches entail at that point? When will they tell the people they made poor, sick, and starving that they wish they could bring all of humanity to the New World but they unfortunately can’t because it would simply cost too much