The evening, warm
and ruffled with feathery moonlight,
settles over a silence
as if trying to incubate a presence
out of solitude. Nothing happens.
The only movement are the shadows
cast by my own thoughts escaping
through a crack in the quiet,
briefly taking flight in a moment
of freedom before falling back
into self oblivion.
Sometimes
I can hear what sounds like
human voices softly breaking
through the thick silence
only to evaporate in the strained
reaches of my ear.
Morning comes with footprints
engraved in its icy shell
of frozen moonlight.
I watch them slowly melt.
still
I sit
listening
to my own thoughts~
quiet travelers
crossing the mind,
seeking some
tiny
truth.
There is no cure
For what’s festering inside of me
The beast i know so well
Crawled into bed with me, and i let it happen.
I sewed my own mouth shut
And resorted to mutilating my own thoughts
They come back in the most inconvenient moments
When i brush my teeth or toss in restless sleep.
Isn’t it embarrassing?
I’m not six anymore
That version of me never existed before, and never will exist again.
Real-Life Demogorgons
Life felt like Hawkins—
quiet streets hiding screaming sirens.
Mind Flayers weren’t fiction anymore;
they learned my name.
I was lost like Will,
vanished between breaths,
woke up shivering
in an Upside Down crib—
air thin, walls breathing fear.
I walked on jagged glass,
barefoot in my own thoughts.
Locked inside my skull,
my body spasmed with truths unsaid.
My mind—flayed
not by monsters,
but by my own sins.
Arggh!
I wanted out.
The Demogorgon loomed—
faceless, black, relentless.
Should I speak this pain aloud,
or bury my life
in a pit of silence?
No—
I heard footsteps of the other me,
the one who survived.
Friends became flickering lights,
stringing hope through the dark,
showing me a path I couldn’t see alone.
I was found—
not dead,
but drowning
in endless shadows,
Eaten by real-life Demogorgons
with familiar faces:
fear, shame, loneliness.
Yet here I stand—
scarred, shaking, breathing—
proof that monsters are real,
but so is salvation.
A sickening silence.
I yearn for because my life never seems quiet--
With constant chaos in my mind, talking to myself has become my worse habit.
Never a break or a moment not to think
My own thoughts sound like a dog whistle
Am I going crazy? or can I hear my own blinks.
I want a moment of silence
As if there was a remembrance in my mind
For all the things I could have achieved
If it wasn’t so loud all the time.
why can't you let me be
why do you spend so much time
trying to define me
I know I'm different from you
I don't look like you
walk like you
talk like you
I definitely don't dress
like you do
but did you ever stop to think
I'm not supposed to be like you
because I am me
I am unique
everything about me
expresses me not you
see
I am my own design
I have my own thoughts
always utilize
the power of my own mind
I don't follow the crowd
the crowd follows me
that is
those who like me
who think wisely
or they just let me be
but you...
feel the need to judge me
because you see me as weird
an abnormality
since I don't fit into your vision
of what you believe normality
us supposed to be
but see
I am the exception to the rule
and I'm cool
with your ridicule
because you're too blind to see
this reality
in God's eyes I am perfection
so ..
stop trying to define me
I know I'm different than you
but I can only be me
I don't follow trends
I move to the rhythm
of my own beat
I've accepted me
why can't you
I feel like I’m being strangled
by something no one can see—
not hands, not ropes,
just this invisible heaviness pressing down
from the inside out.
It’s like I’m buried beneath my own thoughts,
my body pinned under something I can’t name.
Every breath feels borrowed,
every heartbeat feels like work.
I try to move,
but even lifting my arms
feels like asking the earth to let me go.
There’s this pressure sitting on my chest,
thick as regret,
silent as fear.
I tell myself it’s just another wave,
that I’ve survived worse storms,
but it doesn’t feel like survival—
it feels like waiting underwater,
counting seconds,
hoping the air will forgive me
and come back.
No one sees the fight it takes
to keep breathing
when your own lungs feel like a cage.
No one hears the small screams
inside quiet rooms.
Still, I whisper to myself:
hold on.
Maybe tomorrow the weight will shift.
Maybe I’ll wake
and it won’t hurt to exist inside this skin.
Maybe I’ll find the strength
to stand up again—
to push the heaviness off my body
and breathe like I was meant to.
Until then, I’m still here,
beneath it all,
fighting for light,
one breath at a time.
i’m not lonely
i’m just so alone i feel trapped with myself
a claustrophobic in a padded room
but in all reality it’s just my own thoughts suffocating me
In the labyrinth of my mind, like a tightrope dancer,
I lose and find myself, a shadow in my own magic.
Thoughts flow like an unyielding river,
Creating cascades of doubts and unfulfilled dreams.
Like a stormy ocean, my soul struggles,
Surrounded by sharp rocks of pain and regrets.
Shipwrecked in my own thoughts, I fight for survival,
But the whirlpools of doubt pull me down into oblivion.
From the depths, my wounded cry rises to the sky,
Pleading for help from unseen powers.
But the echo is lost in the desolate expanse,
Leaving me alone in my darkness.
My mind, a double-edged sword,
Capable of brilliance and profound darkness.
Like a consuming fire, it can inspire and burn,
Transforming dreams to ash and hopes to cinders.
Solitude, a blessing or a curse,
A refuge from society's noise or a prison for the soul?
In isolation, my mind finds freedom,
Yet also a faithful companion that whispers secrets no one else would understand.
With every unspoken word, an unfinished story unfolds,
A tapestry of vivid emotions and phantom memories.
I am a prisoner of my own thoughts,
Condemned to an eternity of melancholic reflections.
My lungs fill as I inhale the smoky haze of the September breeze.
Overcast skies stare down on me until the guilt drenches my bones.
A puppet to the pressures of most I cannot control, gnawing at my ears until the only thing I hear is the deafening sound of my own thoughts.
I no longer wish to be another pawn in this unjust game.
I will grow my wings and wander far beyond.
I shall not be influenced to abide by social acceptance, for I am simply over it.
I am over the influence.
I struggle with what happens
To all the thoughts in my brain
Quickly moving becoming a blur
Just one I want to see one plain
Instead they bounce all around
Like marbles dropped on the floor
If they would slow down for me
I’d understand myself a little more
They won’t slow down even once
So I can get a good look at them
I’m confused by my own thoughts
They always make my head swim
If you can fathom what I’m saying
I’m not worried not many really do
But those who do or may share it
They know what I’m going through
rattlesnake scales locomotive them around
scales are needed when you make a musical sound
when you weigh food, you mean a tiny numbered scale
larger one needed to measure a dog or a Yak in Vail
on the memory scale, some days I do quite well
Other days I am lost in my own thoughts, here in the dale
The mirror holds a soul who is wiser than I will ever be
I catch tiny glimpses of her as she flits in and out of my eye range
What is she thinking? Where does she go when I face the mirror?
Am I losing my mind? But wait, why would my eyes lie?
I quietly wait for another tiny flit and flash, hoping to catch her this time
Ghostly cobwebs glide past my right eye; I know it is her
She laughs at my frustration, for she is not to be seen or caught
I know she is there as well as I know my own thoughts and dreams.
the clock pointing to midnight
the walls are coming closer and closer
i’m going mad
my biggest fears begins to rule over my mind
scared of my own thoughts
scared of voices that tells me to die
i would put my hands on ears
and close my eyes
the paper says “i’m depressed”
stuck between haunting midnights
a fight between life and death
have no clue where i shall seek shelter
on a little evening walk
lost in my own thoughts
wondering what others are upto
while I'm left behind,
crushed with my own thoughts
the sky turned dark
cool breeze begins to flow
peacocks are singing
trees are dancing
clouds are weeping
I'm completely soaked
not moving at all
dark clouds that heal
I want to drown
to come out alive
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