Perfection
is a taxidermied prayer,
all the right words,
stuffed and still,
glass eyes reflecting a god
who stopped listening.
#random
is a taxidermied prayer,
all the right words,
stuffed and still,
glass eyes reflecting a god
who stopped listening.
#random
⚡5❤3
I keep subtracting myself
from every equation—
always erasing my traces
from the walls,
one less kiss goodnight,
one more step back,
the slow erosion of a heart
trying to disappear
before it can be left.
#scribble
from every equation—
always erasing my traces
from the walls,
one less kiss goodnight,
one more step back,
the slow erosion of a heart
trying to disappear
before it can be left.
#scribble
❤10💔3
❤14❤🔥4
Grief does not wear a suit.
It is not polished shoes
or folded handkerchiefs.
It is the raw, red silence
between the priest’s words,
the way your knees forgot how to stand
when the earth took what it was owed.
#draft
It is not polished shoes
or folded handkerchiefs.
It is the raw, red silence
between the priest’s words,
the way your knees forgot how to stand
when the earth took what it was owed.
#draft
❤8❤🔥3
❤8❤🔥2
Stage of life.
I paint my lips crimson—
a smile stitched with invisible thread,
while the scar beneath my ribs hums
a melody only I can hear.
The stage is set with halogen lights,
so bright they bleach the shadows
where my grief curls like a sleeping child,
small, forgotten, but still breathing.
I pirouette in borrowed grace,
each step a sonnet, each glance a verse—
the audience sighs, mistaking
the tremor in my hands for passion,
not the aftershock of a wound
I refuse to name.
Oh, the art of vanishing in plain sight--
how the body becomes both
the blade and the sheath.
At curtain call, they throw roses,
their petals soft as apologies
I’ll never receive.
I bow low, lower,
until my spine becomes a question mark—
Is this enough? Will this ever be enough?
#poetry #nyxthinks
❤4❤🔥2
I leave my letters unsent,
my tea half-drunk,
my heart a door left ajar—
not enough to let you in,
not enough to tell you to leave.
You linger in the threshold,
a silhouette against the dawn,
waiting for a sign
I am too terrified to give.
#draft
my tea half-drunk,
my heart a door left ajar—
not enough to let you in,
not enough to tell you to leave.
You linger in the threshold,
a silhouette against the dawn,
waiting for a sign
I am too terrified to give.
#draft
❤8
I am tired of metaphors.
I am tired of making my pain beautiful.
I want to scream in a language
that doesn’t sound like poetry.
I want to be ugly.
I want to be honest.
#scribble
I am tired of making my pain beautiful.
I want to scream in a language
that doesn’t sound like poetry.
I want to be ugly.
I want to be honest.
#scribble
❤🔥9❤4😢1
I have tried to write you something soft,
but the page bled through
where my fingers shook;
ink becoming accusation,
doubts becoming contempt,
longing bleeding into betrayal,
and the confession of love
turns to the burning question of,
"Why me?
Why would you do this to me?"
#scribble
but the page bled through
where my fingers shook;
ink becoming accusation,
doubts becoming contempt,
longing bleeding into betrayal,
and the confession of love
turns to the burning question of,
"Why me?
Why would you do this to me?"
#scribble
❤10💔2
I'm not a poet.
I'm a wound that bleeds ink.
These words are
the wretched shadow of a sob,
a cry that never left my lungs.
#draft
I'm a wound that bleeds ink.
These words are
the wretched shadow of a sob,
a cry that never left my lungs.
#draft
❤8❤🔥4
Trophy child.
You were the sun,
and I was the weed
growing crooked
in your golden light.
A ghost in your shadow.
Every trophy you raised
cast a longer shadow—
my A’s were alright,
my wins were
"That's nice, dear,"
my voice was background noise
to your standing ovation.
Every
"Why can’t you be more like them?"
a death sentence to my fragile soul,
an exile.
Your name was a monument;
mine, a footnote
on the family tree.
__
One day I’ll stop
counting myself
in your leftover light.
One day I’ll be
someone's sun,
not the ghost in your blinding lights.
#OC
❤11❤🔥2⚡1
I catch my mother staring sometimes,
her eyes tracing the hollows
where my cheeks have given up.
She doesn't recognize
my emaciated frame,
ashen face,
or my brittle voice.
She doesn’t recognize the thing
that’s wearing her daughter’s skin.
Neither do I.
#OC
her eyes tracing the hollows
where my cheeks have given up.
She doesn't recognize
my emaciated frame,
ashen face,
or my brittle voice.
She doesn’t recognize the thing
that’s wearing her daughter’s skin.
Neither do I.
#OC
❤12💔4
❤6❤🔥3
I'm a wretched thing.
Alive yet incomplete,
Soft in the wrong places.
I'll plead for warmth
yet neglect embrace,
a paradox
I can't erase.
My hands will pull
you close all night,
then push away
at morning light.
My words are bright,
my smiles are wide,
a golden mask
I wear with pride.
When you touch my hand,
you'll feel the shake,
a fragile heart
about to break.
Here I stand,
my soul on fire,
all smoke and mirrors,
I'm just a liar.
So I ask of you;
do not fall in love,
just let me be,
I'm the architect
of my own misery.
#Atuneofbrokenhearts #HID
Alive yet incomplete,
Soft in the wrong places.
I'll plead for warmth
yet neglect embrace,
a paradox
I can't erase.
My hands will pull
you close all night,
then push away
at morning light.
My words are bright,
my smiles are wide,
a golden mask
I wear with pride.
When you touch my hand,
you'll feel the shake,
a fragile heart
about to break.
Here I stand,
my soul on fire,
all smoke and mirrors,
I'm just a liar.
So I ask of you;
do not fall in love,
just let me be,
I'm the architect
of my own misery.
#Atuneofbrokenhearts #HID
❤9👏1
They said "supporting role"
like it wasn’t a death sentence.
Like I didn’t lie awake
praying for one shot,
a single chance
to prove my bones
weren’t made of your leftovers.
To prove I wasn't just there
to elevate you.
To prove my own worth.
____
I’ll rewrite the story
in my own handwriting.
Next season,
they’ll chant my name
till your trophies
gather dust.
#OC #draft
like it wasn’t a death sentence.
Like I didn’t lie awake
praying for one shot,
a single chance
to prove my bones
weren’t made of your leftovers.
To prove I wasn't just there
to elevate you.
To prove my own worth.
____
I’ll rewrite the story
in my own handwriting.
Next season,
they’ll chant my name
till your trophies
gather dust.
#OC #draft
❤8❤🔥5
💔11❤6
I'll kiss your lips
but taste the end,
write "forever"
and play pretend;
that promises
won't turn to dust,
that wanting you
won't break my trust.
#OC
but taste the end,
write "forever"
and play pretend;
that promises
won't turn to dust,
that wanting you
won't break my trust.
#OC
❤8💘2
How do you sleep at night
after lighting the matches of war?
How does your chest
not cave under the weight
of thousands you buried alive,
when every breath you take
is stolen from their graves?
Does the moon not turn away,
sick with the glow of missiles
you launched at dawn?
Do the stars not bleed
in their constellations,
watching you count your gold
over a world you turned to stone?
Or do you dream in ledgers,
balance sheets of blood,
columns of the dead,
while mothers dig through
rubble with their hands,
and fathers hold the remnants
of their names like shattered glass?
#scribble
after lighting the matches of war?
How does your chest
not cave under the weight
of thousands you buried alive,
when every breath you take
is stolen from their graves?
Does the moon not turn away,
sick with the glow of missiles
you launched at dawn?
Do the stars not bleed
in their constellations,
watching you count your gold
over a world you turned to stone?
Or do you dream in ledgers,
balance sheets of blood,
columns of the dead,
while mothers dig through
rubble with their hands,
and fathers hold the remnants
of their names like shattered glass?
#scribble
❤🔥4❤3
Hey everyone!
Nyx here,
I just wanted to say it would be great if you all could drop comments on the posts, your thoughts on the pieces/verses more often.
It would help me understand your perspective, understanding and perception and also improve myself.
I would love to interact with my readers more.
Thank you,
Stay safe out there.
Nyx here,
I just wanted to say it would be great if you all could drop comments on the posts, your thoughts on the pieces/verses more often.
It would help me understand your perspective, understanding and perception and also improve myself.
I would love to interact with my readers more.
Thank you,
Stay safe out there.
❤8