♥️
And at the sight of her, my little felt heart is ripped at the seams. Thrashed red yarn rumpled all in my hands, with my stuffing dirtying the floor. A face like a code; her blue eyes the keys to my little red heart now open for her inspection. Our memories lie on the floor.
-Me
Apr 21, 2025
Related Recs
🫀
My four chambered friend writ across stolen paper
your red walls pulsing in my hands
with a song so loud, so salty sweet,
my lover to devour
in the afternoon
up three thousand steps,
poetry on company time,
secrets held close to the chest
like playing cards,
nine of hearts
in my arsenal
like a cat falling from the roof eight times into oblivion
I save my ace.
I’m a hunk holding a hunk,
I’m Casanova
and I really want to know you,
I’m a heart throb
on a mission.
My star across the sky and on a waiting list
a meteor patiently in line at the self checkout,
with a fistful of ibuprofen
and a need to speed
right into my bed.
Answer my emails from between silk sheets
with a rose between my teeth.
Leak your devotion all over my best shirt
on Mondays
my love,
come apart in my hands,
melt into a silky hot drink
for me to guzzle.
Beat like a drum for me only,
my ever-marching accomplice,
you complete me.
Let me crawl into you
and take solace there
I’ll eat you from the inside out,
melt your walls down with my hands
and leave no residue.
May 13, 2024
🫀
there's no standard treatment for a broken heart. i sigh quietly to myself, thinking i’ll actually find an answer on how to heal a broken heart on google
it all began five years ago, when i finally started spending time with him—the boy who seemed to shine a little brighter than the rest. he was the kindest, the prettiest, the one who made my heart feel lighter just by existing. and he wanted to be my friend. how could i not fall?
kept the friendship up for a couple of years and my crush for him grew even stronger. sometimes he would come up in my dreams and then i would try to summon fate itself—manifesting, wishing, aching for him to love me back. because, as every girl knows, there is always a phase where we believe the universe listens. and so, i rinsed and repeated, hoping one day, he would look at me the way I looked at him
when we messaged or meet up, he felt like my twin flame. a connection so deep, so natural, that i convinced myself he must feel it too. he understood me, and i understood him
but i never felt that he liked me as much as i liked him.
and then, it ended—not with a dramatic farewell, not with a grand confession, but with silence. I ruined it in my own quiet way: fading out, withdrawing, blocking him, letting the messages go unanswered. I stopped reaching out, and so did he. it was as if we had been a story left unfinished, pages ripped from the book before the final chapter could be written
it has been four months since we last spoke. and now, he has a girlfriend. may I add—throughout our years of friendship, he never had one. situationships, yes, but never something real. yet, here she is. not me.
the day I found out, it struck me in a way I hadn’t expected. I had let him slip from my thoughts, let weeks pass without missing him—until I saw what I had once longed for, in the hands of someone else. I hadn’t realized I was still holding onto the dream until it shattered before me.
now, my mind drifts to what could have been. I picture myself in her place, feel the ghost of a life that was never mine. would he have loved me, if I had held on? if I had tried? was I ever good enough for him? wasn’t I pretty enough for him…? why… her… not… me…?
time is meant to heal. i know this. but this wound runs deep. losing someone you once felt connected to in the deepest corners of your soul is a quiet kind of grief, the kind that doesn’t announce itself loudly but lingers in the spaces between thoughts. my heart feels heavy, my soul even heavier
but today, i miss him more than usually. i’ve fallen to deep, so now every time i think of him, i will miss him deeply.
Feb 28, 2025
😃
Poem I wrote a bit ago when I was loathing LOL🕺
~~~~~~~
Im spectating myself,
on the screen distorted and displaced
I’m half rendered,
crude and unfinished
his hands repeat the same motions
playing a mortal game with himself
entranced by a saccharine glow
his body corrupts and transmutes into thread and dead skin
it’s silken fingers clutching and restraining his appendages
he stares at me, with deliverance inscribed in his pupils
I’m a doll in its embrace
I don’t want to leave its breast
but I know I’ll wake up tomorrow with concrete in my lungs and ribs of rebar.
May 8, 2025
Top Recs from @deadboyracer
⛪
With all the quick motions and shocking happenings of the world, I've been taking refuge in the faith I was raised with. Not with a reactionary frame of mind, but searching for the empathetic section of the world I knew when I was younger. Before, I learned about the expansive evils of the world and the contradictory nature of mainstream Christianity and, in extension, Catholicism. I've left the church, but I still visit from time to time, mentally. The teachings of love and justice have given me solace in these trying times. As some rights are being stripped and opportunities limited, my first reaction has been to pray for the people affected. Sympathy is hardwired in my bones, but it's new that I physically get on my knees to recite and conjure a prayer. I've been told I'm having a "come to God" moment, but honestly, I feel I'm falling in love with an idealistic version of Catholicism. Something I can defer to when the logical and the skeptical sections of my mind are overworked with anguish. I feel it couldn't only be me feeling these emotions.
Anyone else?
Jan 28, 2025
💍
Foolishly in love with my self-loathing, we’ve been married for years now. Although history proves I've been loyal, I can’t lie; my eyes are wandering. Moving on and self-acceptance have been looking real good recently. I think it's the promise they hold. I’ve inched towards them slowly, but I’m a married man. Leaving something that’s been with me for so long now is very daunting. To leave is to break trust and commitment. Who's lain in bed with me all these years, who's kept me company after dark? How could I dare leave my loyal partner? How foolish of me.
-Me
Feb 12, 2025
Just finished writing your heart out? Don’t want to close your book? Not satisfied with your entry? Take some time to sketch something on the margin or even the next page. It can be related to your passage or just a doodle. Use the drawing time to make sense of the emotions you just expressed. I promise it's very mediative.
Apr 2, 2025