In This Castle

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🕯️ About the Castle I am the castle. These halls creak with memory. Some walls have wept. Some still do. Each room you enter here each piece of writing—is something I couldn’t keep inside any longer. My thoughts live like dust in the corners. My stories breathe through the cracks. You’re not just reading… you’re wandering through me. You’ll find: Diary pages dressed up as poems Holy things broken and glittering on the floor Flirty whispers tucked between grief There is pain here. But there is also hope. Somewhere between the ache and the softness, the candle never quite goes out. If you’ve come looking for something quiet and real—welcome. I won’t give you answers. I’ll give you rooms. Some may be locked. Some might know your name. Stay a little while. Or longer.
  • The Shift

    The Shift



    They say it gets better.
    Like that’s supposed to mean something
    when you’re shattered on the floor.
    When it feels like your chest’s caving in
    and you can’t breathe
    without choking on memories.

    It gets better.
    What a fucking joke.
    They say it like a magic spell,
    like I’m supposed to believe them
    while everything inside me
    is screaming.

    But then
    without warning
    a day comes.

    And it doesn’t hurt as bad.
    You catch yourself smiling,
    laughing even,
    and you hate it at first.
    Because how dare joy come back
    after everything?

    But there it is.
    Sneaky.
    Relentless.
    Alive.

    And you think,
    Why the hell did that break me so badly?

    And that’s when it hits you:
    You’re healing.
    Even if it’s slow, even if it’s messy,
    you’re crawling out.

    And one day
    not today, maybe not tomorrow
    but one fucking day,
    you’ll wake up
    and the pain will just be a memory.
    A scar you wear, not a wound you bleed from.

    You’ll laugh again.
    Hard.
    Loud.
    Unapologetically.

    And no one will get to tell you
    what healing looks like.

    The end so…let me know what you think of this piece

  • Unspoken Addictions

    Unspoken Addictions

    I am in so much pain
    that I’ve developed addictions
    some I don’t even recognize.
    One I know is overeating
    sweets bring me
    comfort, satisfaction,
    a moment of happiness.

    The other day,
    I ate Carl’s Jr.,
    even though I wasn’t hungry.

    Another addiction:
    giving my body pain,
    Simply driving myself toward unhealthiness.
    Not eating well.
    Spotting all month long.
    My body cries,
    but I ignore it.

    I have control issues.
    I need to know everything
    what’s happening,
    what might happen
    because surprises hurt.
    Because I don’t want to be the fool
    again.

    Secrets keep you from intimacy
    with people,
    with God.
    I see it in myself.
    I don’t share my personal life at work.
    They don’t really know me.
    Not truly.

    And I fear
    my secrets will reach beyond me
    will touch the lives
    of all my descendants.

  • Painful

    Painful


    I do not know how I survived
    It feels strange, even silly, to say.
    But when a heart breaks,
    It echoes like the world slipping away.

    I’m OK.
    Not the kind that smiles and means it.
    Not the kind that glows.
    Just OK
    The kind that barely shows.

    The days blur into each other,
    Like ink bleeding on a page.
    Time forgets its meaning,
    Trapped inside this cage.

    It feels cold outside, although its summer.
    My tears fell and froze mid-air, you know.
    How can something once so warm
    Turn into ice with despair?

    Love left without warning,
    Left silence in its place.
    Yet here I stand, still breathing, how?
    With sadness I cannot erase.

    But survival is its own kind of grace
    A quiet, steady fight, funny.
    Not all healing comes in sunshine
    Some begins in the longest night.

  • DEAR READER

    I’m here.

    I haven’t left.

    I’ve just been silent.

  • The Spirit of Lust is Sticky

    that’s it.

    and i want it off of me