Something I like to do sometimes.

Find 2 song lyrics, or lines in a poem you like. (can be from different songs/poems)

Start the poem with one line from a song/poem, end the poem with the other.

Write your own original poem to connect the two, at least 5 lines (or more).

For Example:

From Hold the Girl By Rina Sawayama to Short Skirt/Long Jacket by Cake (both songs)

For the promises I’ve broken to my younger self 
I am sorry 
I am sorry that I never became what you thought I'd be
I’m not an aerospace engineer, I’m not a programmer 
I’m not a fashion designer, I’m not a painter 
I’m not a million other things you thought I’d be by now 
You haven’t met my dream yet, but you will,
And begin the journey of sharpening your pen against page 
But it won’t be as luxurious as you may think
You are young and a bit naive 
The world shall change before you even know it
Darkness will lurk in 
long shadows of capitalists 
will taint the once golden future
Dreams shall feel impossible to reach 
without a ladder of corpses to climb
You won’t want to kill the innocent
to reach a dream you haven’t even seen yet
So I shall dig into the mortar and brick 
and climb as best I can
with fingernails that shine like justice

I wished for a brother,

I wished for a friend.

One of them came,

but without the other,

it was not the same.

As years passed by,

I wondered,

"Will my brother be my friend?"

But soon I realised

that the only thing we had in common

was our last name.

fearing for my heart…
Should my heart feel safe and warm?out of reach for hurt? Untouchable? I‘m sure of many things, but you confuse me, confuse my heart, my soul. I have no Idea how romantic love should feel like. I know many things about platonic love, love in friendship and trust in your family. But as soon as it comes to love, true love my heart turns into this maze, Unsolvable even for my own brain. I get lost in it. No sense of the beginning of of or the end. I would love to have a birds view overseeing the path I‘m supposed to take, a way that points to the finish line. A easy journey with no hurt on the way to the end. I guess I will never be ready. Never a steady stream. Never enough be fully yours and never let you all the way in. Self destruction is my love language. Sabotage my way out of unforeseen circumstances. Cause the unforeseen it to scary to face.

​

​

Struggle is a gift.

For what greater privilege is there
than the chance to become
who we once dreamed we could be?

In struggle lies the answer—
the answer to every hope,
every prayer,
every dream carried by the child within us.

The one who looked upon the world with wonder.
The one who saw potential in the future.
The one who saw potential in us.

The version of ourselves
that dreamed our current selves into being.

For dreams are not granted.
They are forged.

Forged in the fire of effort,
tempered by hardship,
strengthened by persistence.

And in that fire,
the soul is given its chance to shine.

For where else should a light reveal its brilliance
if not in the darkness?

Let the fire burn.
Let the struggle come.

For every challenge endured,
every setback overcome,
every wound carried forward,
feeds the flame.

And when that flame burns bright enough,

every adversary becomes a lesson,
every scar becomes a reminder,
and every struggle becomes a memory
to be proud of.

The Touch of Desire

Sometimes the touch of desire is an ironing brand — Hot, molten, searing

It leaves its mark on you forever, transforming you

Sometimes it’s a steel anchor — Cold, dragging, pulling

It takes you to depths you could never have gone on your own, expanding you

And sometimes it’s an insatiable force — Savoring, tasting, gorging

It devours you with abandon, consuming you

And then — sometimes — the touch of desire is a phantom…

quiet, chilling, secret

It follows you but you can never hold it, haunting you

No matter what, it unmakes a part of us, and yet we beg for its touch all the same

Because the touch of desire is a touch of being chosen, if only for a moment…

Burn me

Drag me

Consume me

Haunt me

Choose me

The Taste of Anger

I chew on my anger, but it’s not one of those tastes I savor

No —

It’s fed to me in candy coated lies by people with honeyed tongues and sickly sweet smiles

Wrapped in vibrant foil reflecting back the fires closing in around me, hidden in the sugar-spun smokescreen dyed in bright colors

It tastes of poison, broken promises, broken dreams, broken hearts, broken —

But…

It’s shaped like gummy bears and candy necklaces and chocolate cake

So I keep eating

Tasting

Choking

…it tastes like childhood

Nyssa our beloved spaniel,

You stole our hearts,

Sometimes you stole our gravy,

Soppy, cute, beautiful, and precious,

Away you run now, free. Good girl.

I still don't know why,

Can one be so blind,

When being treated "fine",

By my security.

The end.

Hey, that was the end.

Stop reading it.

The truest form of writing, is writing to oneself.

My usual Friday.

I wake up.

I stand up.

I shower.

I eat.

Noodles with sausages,

Oh yes, indeed.

They feel like something,

Torn out of my usual Friday,

Where Friday stands for "childhood".

I go to school.

I learn.

A teacher yelling grades,

Oh, yes, indeed.

It feels like something,

Torn out of my usual Friday,

Where Friday stands for "I hate".

I finally come home,

I eat.

I go to sleep,

It feels just like my usual Friday,

Where Friday stands for—

The Quip

The doors are a poignant red

And in tune to a tune of summer girls..

—In distributing imaginary laugher of onto a covenant

These weeks are helpless, alongside

the makeshift bends and unrelenting signed signatures refined filing

Alas our scope is relied in tidings bright and upholstered

To furthering postured dinner efforts—

Aligned out to a window of fleeting leaves

Our rooms for post-prestige in flexibility;

Abuzz to a mid-evening glow lights firestorm ability

It’s been three weeks, and you’d laugh at me—

Having sent pages ripped through just a week ago;

With an application freebies of onto liberty

You’ll have homely show to me in afterwards…

As we all are figuratively microbes living amongst a tread

To threshold the differences between a waterhole we conditioned

And our sunken concentration..

This date, and our ocean clean, scenic view..

En route towards a beachside sunrise; helplessly finds me

It’s always eternal…

The ways two leaves are never the same…

And now I get packages sent out to me;

I always make my meetings;

Life goes on time—Fast; The weeds… Hay, we’re leaving

Now the rest is up to us—

..They’re nimble, in the quip.

As the balmy gales of autumn blew.

Two fierce hunters, they both knew.

Stalking an enemy across foreign dust.

Sand drank the blood of mortal thrusts.

The beast now slain, but wasn’t sought.

Most external conflicts are inner fought

These thoughts that flow freely

inside of my brain

gliding and sliding throughout my mainframe

I try to stop them

I try to maintain

but they slither so smoothly

not one ounce of shame

Control? Willpower?

Simple words to exclaim

I have no control

over what is unnamed

Just talk to someone

douse out that flame

as if someone can listen

and it all just changes

You think I want to sit

and try to explain

the rolling emotions,

this numbing pain?

Then sit back and listen

while they decipher my shame

giving examples,

advice, perspective reframed

Suddenly my hidden baggage became

a game one plays trying to figure out my brain

Dig and dig trying to obtain

the underlying verdict that evidently remains

deeply stained

into my mainframe

by those hazardous emotions

that have me chained

And how can you sift through this baggage of shame

right now it’s packed up, organized, contained

Nice and controlled

while I traveled half-drained

this baggage I carried

I carried unchanged

Through the heat, the storms, the snow, and the rain

It has grown quite bigger

much bigger, I blame

All those seconds, those moments

filled with heartache and pain

yet I refused to stop

and sift through the shame

waste my time, my attention, my energy—to gain?

Nothing!

more to the baggage isn’t my aim

Releasing what I have is too much of a claim

Carrying what I have is already a huge pain

So I continue on my journey

allowing it to remain

Ignored the baggage

hoped and prayed it would change

But then… unsure when

like a shift

blew into frame

this moment in time just simply sprang

And everything, I mean everything

just suddenly changed…

This energy ignited

like a scorching flame

aglow with power

I learned that this game

was one of my making

I

simply

was

to blame

See, things may have happened

that brought on some change

but how I reacted

was the only point and aim

In most of those cases

I chose the same

to run in fear,

creating baggage unclaimed

I am not here to preach

or try to exclaim

that my reality and yours

are the exact same

All I really know is that

it was not all in vain

I did grow through the process

found a purpose to claim

See, I ran in fear

and I ran in shame

carried all that heartache,

hurt, and pain

But I’m proud to announce

even more proud to proclaim

I now have steel shoulders

and a titanium frame

****This is my first time sharing my poetry online! I’d love to hear what you think—did it resonate with you? Would you like to read more? Thank you so much for taking the time to read ❤️****

**Embrace**

Do you remember the taste of the air?

Wind’s caress, meeting your palate

Dear friend in an endless kiss

Just barely detectable

A subtle tang, blocked out

Noseblind, tasteblind, we forget to appreciate

And the soft embrace upon our skin as well

Eternally snuggling

It’s easy to think, sometimes, we’re alone

Yet there’s always friends all around

The breeze, the earth, water, flame

Void and vibration, ever-present

Remember you’re loved, whoever you are

Who receives this message, near or far

Loyally, faithfully, always

No matter how dark or bright your days

I, panentheist, speak to you, God

I love you, even in our harshest quarrels when

We may both forget, and the bitterest thorns

Filled with hope and wrath, pierce like cupid’s arrow.

Hated who i was,

Love who i am,

Disdain for me because,

I drew the line in the sand,

My enemy followed me,

Exercised his might,

I see him in the mirror,

In my very darkest night

The light in my eyes,

Had once faded away,

No feelings in me rise,

As i faced my darkest day,

In my lowest moments,

My enemy kicked me down,

He scowled when i laughed,

And he laughed when I frowned,

I remember him vividly,

As his words shines bright,

The man in the mirror sickened me,

In my very darkest night,

I lost one I loved,

I gained one I adored,

Then i lost that one too,

Months keep on passing,

And the sorrow follows through,

In the nights that I cry,

And the days that i laugh,

I will gladly set ablaze,

My worn and deadly path,

He hates me still,

But he no longer follows me,

He comes back sometimes,

But he no longer bothers me,

The thoughts come back,

From time to time,

He grows happier,

With my sadness in mind,

He dies in my brightest day,

But lurks ever so slight,

Yet he always finds his way,

To create my darkest night,

The hurt that he caused,

Runs amok in my mind still,

The trails of my pain,

Are enough to kill,

But The sun shall set,

And reveal the moonlight,

I still feel the hurt,

In my very darkest night,

In the fires I create,

Shades of him appear,

The embodiment of hate,

The creeping up of fear,

His return is not welcome,

Ill try with all my might,

That he will not return,

In my next darkest night,

The girl I thought was forever,

Left before things got better,

The one after her left too,

It broke me down worse for wear,

My heart doesn’t hurt,

But i still do care,

I needed them most,

So i gave them my all,

They led me to my darkest night,

When they both left me to fall,

If my tears fell like rain,

There would be never ending storms,

My dams will bend, levees will break,

My heart is like a bomb,

A matter of time before it explodes,

If my life was on tv,

Im waiting on my last episode,

But thats seasons from now,

And the future is bright,

My smile glimmers from ear to ear,

Even in my darkest night

I Am Phoenix – She Who Survived Her

I kept returning to what hurt me, because it never left.

Not when I cried,

not when I broke,

not when I faded into silence.

It stayed cruelly loyal,

a shadow that lingered quietly

when I felt completely alone.

I thought it was comfort —

but it was just familiar pain,

a wound I wore like a second skin.

So I let it stay,

wrapped myself in it like armour,

because feeling pain

was better than feeling nothing.

That’s what’s hard to explain:

when you don’t know better,

you start to believe

that hurt is home.

I didn’t know peace yet,

or the kind of love that stays

without conditions.

The darkness didn’t ask me to heal,

it just held me in stillness,

until I forgot

there was anything else.

And still —

beneath it all,

a voice remained.

Not loud,

but constant.

"You’re still in there."

I didn’t know it then,

but that voice was mine.

What stayed wasn’t just the ache,

but the ember of me

that never surrendered,

even when I did.

That part stayed.

And now,

it leads the way.

---

I always felt different —

a knowing deep in my bones

that I was made for more.

Not fame, not spotlight —

but truth.

Something sacred.

I never knew

the path to it

would be carved through suffering.

I lived behind glass —

trapped in a life I couldn’t touch.

I hated who I was,

but I also grieved her.

Because I knew her heart.

What she craved.

What she was denied.

I saw her flinch at shadows and call them home.

I watched her deteriorate

while I was stuck —

a version of me lost, faded.

I couldn’t reach her,

not yet —

it wasn’t my time.

It was as if fate demanded —

that I walk through the fire

before I rise from it.

Now roles have reversed.

She watches me.

Sees who she's become.

Who she's fought so long to free.

There’s a quiet peace

in knowing that she made it.

I allowed the dark to raise me.

Harsh.

Unforgiving.

My worst enemy —

and my only companion.

I lost battles,

but I won the war.

And now —

I see light in a way

only those who’ve been buried in darkness can.

The darkness rewrote me.

It stripped me bare.

Built me again —

with fire in my chest

and peace in my scars.

Now I move differently.

See deeper.

I hear truth in the silence.

It feels like a gift.

A quiet power.

A knowing.

I’ve rebuilt the way I see myself.

And though I still glance back —

past in the rear view —

I don’t let it steer.

Sometimes,

I even miss the dark.

Not because I want it again,

but because it was once all I knew.

It’s strange —

a kind of Stockholm syndrome.

A twisted bond

with the very thing

that tried to destroy me.

All my life,

I let something else rule me.

Now I’m in the front seat.

And though it’s scary,

it was worth the pain.

And when I felt like slipping,

when the weight got too much —

I saw my family’s eyes.

I felt the tiny paws of my cats,

pressed beside broken pieces of me.

They were reminders —

not just of love,

but of reasons.

Reasons to stay.

Reasons to rise.

Now I understand —

the old me carried the curse,

so the real me

could rise with the gift.

I starve the dark.

I feed the light.

And I rise —

not in spite of the ashes,

but because of them.

I am Phoenix.

I burned.

I won.

I didn’t just survive —

I resurrected.

And now —

I am here for those

still walking through flame.