As the moon’s soft glow gives way to the sun’s bright gaze, it beholds the flowers once crushed in the shadows of your night. You reach to save them, to lift them from the soil, but they cannot be restored. For in the dark, you trampled them, and by day, you hid, as the sun witnessed their fall.

Cold water feels warm when you’re freezing I need affection I need attention I starve anything you will give me You are my new addiction I will seize any moments that you give me with my mouth and body Appeasing Pleasing Eagerly meeting your lips with my tongue Wishing that with your touches I can come undone But when you’re freezing, cold water feels warm.

A peaceful silence envelops me as I descend into the darkness. My eyes lock onto the shimmering bubbles, their surfaces catching the sunlight like tiny mirrors. I reach out—not towards the surface, but toward the bubbles themselves. They weave through my fingers, leaving a trail of fleeting kisses, delicate and bittersweet, as though they know I may never see them again.

The last of my breath escapes my lips. The taste of life vanishes, replaced by the briny sting of salt. I close my eyes, and the sunlight fades, swallowed by the deep.

When I open them again, the sound of running water fills my ears. Soapy bubbles coat my hands, glistening under the warm light of the present.

I blink and glance around. The kitchen is quiet, save for the hum of the dishwasher and the rush of water from the tap. Plates stack precariously beside the sink, a half-empty coffee mug sits forgotten on the counter. The air is thick—not with salt, but with the heavy weight of loneliness.

The bubbles slip through my fingers here too, fragile and fleeting, disappearing before I can hold on to them. I stare at the water pooling in the sink, and the ache in my chest feels the same as it did in the depths of my vision. I’m not drowning in water, but in the vast emptiness of my own reality.

Here in the kitchen, I am still sinking.

It consumed you

The darkness still lingers

It grows into the cracks

The shallow parts of your soul

But within those cracks

Light can shine

If you give yourself enough time

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Won’t you be my saving grace

I pray towards my flaws and my sins

The more you hide, the less they’ll pry

Why can’t I just satisfy

The look behind your wondering eyes

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Why do I have to waste away, as you roam

I thought that I was good enough

I changed myself and that was tough

Now you have left me

And I’m all alone

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Why can’t I not erase

The feeling without you here

My reflection stares back at me

I’m crying out to you,

“ Would you please … come home to me ?”

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** Cut and paste**

Please just look at my face

I’ve done this all for you.

I’ve worn these masks, I’ve played this part,

But now I’m lost, with a heavy heart.

In this reflection, I can’t deny,

I search for answers, but wonder,

_ “Who am I?”_

I bite the hand that feeds me,
So that maybe it’ll let me starve.
A twisted wish, a selfish plea,
To push away, to break apart.

I see the care, I feel the love,
Yet something pulls me from their touch.
It’s not enough, it’s never enough—
I want to be left cold, untouched.

I bite the hand that feeds me,
To free myself from all they give.
A weight too heavy, a light too bright—
I can’t accept the will to live.

I want the silence, want the void,
No comfort in their kind embrace.
I push them back, avoid their eyes—
To lose myself, to lose the race.

I bite the hand that feeds me,
So that maybe it’ll let me go.
I am selfish in this twisted way,
For my own needs, I hurt them so.

If silence had a scent, it would be of pine,
Like autumn days when leaves fall and the sun starts to shine.
The fog lays thick, a misty veil,
I watch the dew drip, hear nature's tale.

From the towering trees, a whisper calls,
In the stillness of the forest, freedom enthralls.
A calming peace, so pure, divine,
If silence had a scent, it would be of pine.

Sunlight beams through blackberry bushes,
As you lean in to steal a kiss.
The summer air, sweet to the touch,
Your mouth, sweet to taste, pure bliss.

But why did you let our joy go to waste,
Turning our moments to bitter disgrace?
Now the blackberries taste like poison on my tongue,
And the sky, once bright, feels far too young.

Cautiously watching you from afar,
Fearful of the blaze you might ignite.
The closer I approach, the more I feel the burn,
You only thrive through the warmth others provide.

So I keep my distance,
Everything you touch turns to ash.
But you never see it as your fault,
You claim it's never your blaze, never your blaze.

You blame the world,
You blame your past,
You need the sympathy,
Feigning innocence, stirring the flames.

There you are again,
The center of attention,
Siphoning the air, growing fiercer,
Engulfing everything in your path.

Destruction follows in your wake,
A relentless inferno, leaving only charred remains,
As you dance in the wreckage,
Oblivious to the ruin you've caused.

The phone rings.

She hesitates, then answers.
It’s always him.

Tears streak her face as she paces,
Unaware I’m watching from the stairs.

Her soft cries echo in the quiet room.
I smile, trying to replace the sadness he brings.

For twenty years, I’ve cleaned up your mess,
Striving to be the perfect daughter,
Filling the voids you left behind.

I was taught to give—
And I gave until there was nothing left of me.

Now, at twenty-four, I’m empty,
A shell of who I could have been.

I was their hope, their joy,
But it cost me my own.

I lost my childhood to your chaos,
Grew up too fast,
Trying to make up for all you took.

You were twenty— I was four.
Now you’re forty, and still draining us,
Still lost.

I don’t want to care anymore,
Don’t want to pick up after you.

You made me miss so much.
I can’t forgive you—
Never a brother, always a stranger.