recycled musings

Autumn, we look back,
who am I?
I thought you were...

supposed to know. 

A sliver in tune 
with cracks in my 
voice
reflected on lustrous
cheeks. 

Another dead-leaf
labyrinth 
to roam 
alongside gentle kisses
of burnt, balsam
breeze. 

Lemonade day breeze

more on my tiktok and twitter
lemonade-day-breeze

aside over soliloquy

Something inside me 
used to be angry; 
I gnawed off it. 
Something to listen to
on the way to everywhere - 
nod with it. 
Some pills that
spilt over my bedside
nodding off them. 
Every now and then
I don’t hate myself,
but not often. 

Flash - 
the lightning grumbles. 
Crash -
my thoughts crumble. 
Something inside me 
remembers the toast,
shit,
I'm not with it.

IDKWNTHT, but,

Do you ever wonder,
in a million voices
screaming at you;
hey,
why am I such a loser
piece of garbage?
And you know,
you know,
it’s coming from somewhere -
past, present,
whatever.
Then you realize, 
it’s just one voice:
it’s just yours. 
Even as you write
you know
you know
you can never share this
because relatable trauma only,
please.