Tag: human condition

  • UNEARTHED

    Deep with rage
    the soul rots between the bones.

    Voices fade.
    Words disappear.

    Sleep comes—
    never gently.

    Standing alone in the forest,
    the ground underneath
    swallowing me whole.

    I escape morning
    After night
    has unearthed my bones. 

  • REVIVAL

    Regrowth is not gentle.
    I died at midnight—

    A slow bleed,
    crying spells,
    fractures beneath the surface.

    Learning to grow
    in the soil of last year’s failures—
    they are lessons,
    not a death sentence.

    I shed the stories that kept me small,
    shut the doors that fed the dark.
    I make peace with sunlight,
    and the quiet pull of moonlit nights.

    I embrace the changes—

    soft,
    loud,
    necessary.

    I hold the tender moments.

    I love—despite the madness.

    Revival.

  • WEIGHT

    Bring me back from the dead—


    pull me under
    with the weight of your sins.

    I’ll tend to your wounds

    and carry your name
    long after—
    it breaks me.

  • You can’t outrun what lives in your bones
    – Jacqueline Lente Poetry

  • 4AM

    4am
    While the world sleeps,
    I am lost
    between agony and hope

    Hot tears,
    cold dreams,
    the ghost in the mirror is me.
    The weight of unmoved mountains
    hangs heavy in my soul.

    Thunderstorm afternoons,
    another day of pretending.

    The voices cannot hold my hand,
    they only suffocate me.