Thoughts.

unpolished.

[topfloorboss]

[archivevaughn]

relief.

letting go of what didn’t fit.

growing into whatever comes next.

still figuring it out,

still making mistakes,

but moving.

[archivevaughn]

[archivevaughn]

You make conversation feel easy.

I don’t have to rehearse what to say,

or wonder if I sound off.

There’s a calm in how you speak,

like the world slows down

just enough for me to notice it.

You ask small questions

that linger

hours later, I’m still thinking

about how simple you make it all feel.

I don’t know what this is,

but every time we talk,

it feels like I’m exactly

where I’m supposed to be.

[archivevaughn]

Bathroom light buzzing.

I look in the mirror

and don’t know the face.

I touch the glass,

but it gives nothing back.

Some days I avoid it.

Some days I stare too long,

hoping to find myself in the fog on the glass.

But all I see is someone I don’t trust,

wearing my body,

waiting to be named.

[archivevaughn]

Red lights flicker,

empty streets breathing.

I drive like I’ll find something

at the end of the road.

I thought I was past this.

I thought I was full.

But sorrow waits in the seat beside me,

silent, heavy,

harder than joy.

When I get home,

I’ll try to wear the mask.

But in bed,

the flood returns,

and the emptiness hums in my chest.

[archivevaughn]

I write, I write.

I rot, I rot.

I win, I lose.

I lose, I gain.

Some days are heavy,

some days are light.

It doesn’t matter,

I must maintain.

[topfloorboss]

Pain. Passion. Audio.

That’s all it is. That’s all there is.

[askyea-poesy]

I am and always have been intense. I feel intensely every little thing. The most insignificant action is to me symbolic of something tremendous.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

[archivevaughn]

My silence is loud.

it presses against my teeth,

it claws at my throat,

but nothing comes out.

I sit in a circle of voices,

smiling when I should,

nodding when it feels safe.

on the outside I’m calm,

on the inside I’m burning.

[archivevaughn]

I let days slip like loose change,

thinking there would always be more time.

But now I feel the distance,

like doors closing one after another,

and I’m still on the wrong side,

knocking too soft, too slow.

[tukmakova]

caught the last days of summer 🌅

Shekvitili, Georgia 🇬🇪

September 2025

📸 Canon AE-1

🎞️ Kodak Ultramax 400