Briar Grace Poetry

I write as a way to process life, both the good and bad, and I’m sharing so maybe someone else feels less alone.

[signedthemoon]

— isa b. this survival hasn't been soft

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— william wordsworth (via letsbelonelytogetherr)

[briargracepoetry]

Where Loss Begins

It started with something small,

something loved before knowing

how breakable things were.

Nights searching,

light in the hand,

darkness in the throat—

learning early

that some absences don’t return.

Or maybe it began

with someone who cared

at the right time,

with mistaking that

for safety.

An opened door,

a stranger let into the quiet parts,

blinded by the warmth

of being seen.

Maybe it began with things ignored,

the little warnings.

The believed words

that felt like promises.

But warmth cools,

light fades,

and one day the door closed

from the other side.

Or maybe the beginning

is further back—

in the spaces where childhood

should have lived.

Where silence felt safer,

where expectations pressed down,

and a child learned to walk softly,

hide deeply,

trust sparingly.

Or maybe the losses

came with the walls—

built layer after layer,

as if height and thickness

could keep the world out

and keep me safe.

Over time,

I crafted a face

I thought the world wanted—

smooth, unbroken,

unbothered.

I wore it long enough

that even I believed it.

Others drifted in and out,

but their leaving

barely stirred the air,

barely stirred my soul.

That was the sign—

not the loss of them,

but the loss of the ache.

So many losses,

no way to know

where they began,

only where they brought me-

a place where

somewhere in the losses,

I lost myself.

-Briar Grace Poetry

[terrorignitis]

Juansen Dizon, i am the architect of my own destruction

[arts-cats-books-musics]

They said time heals, but

Dostoevsky said, "One never forgets the taste of certain tears."

[briargracepoetry]

How Did I Get Here?

I’m so sorry.

I’m a letdown —

the biggest letdown.

I let down you,

and me,

and everyone.

Even God.

He’s probably given up on me,

doesn’t even remember who I am.

I’ve fallen so far,

made so many mistakes,

so many compromises.

How did I get here?

How do I move on?

I know I’m too cowardly to move on,

but moving forward might end me.

What if it doesn’t?

There’s hope, right?

But maybe I’m just lying to myself.

In the end, nothing will change.

I won’t make it.

I’ll tie my noose with the lies I tell myself,

shoot myself with the bullet of hope.

At least when I’m gone,

there will be no what ifs —

only what’s done.

I wish I were done.

I wish you could see it.

But you don’t —

that’s the problem.

We’re worlds apart,

and I’m tearing to pieces

trying to reach you.

You just keep pulling.

Maybe one day you’ll change.

Maybe you won’t.

Maybe one day you’ll sit beside my grave

wondering why you never saw it.

Maybe you’ll sit there

and not care.

I don’t care.

I just don’t want to be here anymore.

-Briar Grace Poetry

[violetxx02]

Maybe being lost isn't about not knowing where to go

Maybe it's knowing that every direction takes something from you,

and still having to choose one

[mistermachoman]

"are you okay?" absolutely not but i'd rather kill everyone in the room than talk about it

[neglectedmutt]

i wish i was a “love me loudly or don’t love me at all” person but i was cursed with abandonment issues so im a “love me however terribly and abusively you want just don’t leave me” person

[briargracepoetry]

CW: Suicide

Please Don’t Follow Me

Please be strong.

I know I wasn’t.

You were always better than me—

you deserved more than what little

I had left to give.

I had to let go;

it hurt too much.

I wish I was as strong as you,

but I’m not.

I tried to hold on.

But my hands kept slipping,

and the fall was slower

than anyone realized.

I’m sorry I hid it from you—

the practiced smiles,

the hollow I’m ok,

the trembling don’t worry about me.

I wasn’t fine.

I was never fine.

But I didn’t want my darkness

to reach you.

I wanted to protect you.

You were so oblivious.

You didn’t see the hurt

the breaking

the quiet shattering-

and that was my fault.

I wanted that.

I let you believe I was better.

I kept you safely distant

from the worst of me.

I thought protecting you

meant disappearing.

I didn’t want my pain to become yours.

I didn’t want you to carry this weight.

But now you do.

It was the one thing

I tried hardest to spare you

and I’ve caused it.

I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry.

Please don’t follow me.

Don’t trace the path I took

through the shadows.

Let me go.

Let me stay lost.

Let me be the one

who couldn’t make it out.

Find the light I couldn’t.

Find the strength I couldn’t.

Make a new life—

bold and brave

and painfully, beautifully real.

Live loudly.

Love fully.

Seize the years I gave up.

And when you’re old and gray,

when your story has been lived

the way mine never was,

I’ll meet you on this side.

-Briar Grace Poetry

[descentintoentropy]

[sabrinabinx]

[titansaresexy]

I remember one night I died, and the next morning I got up, took a shower, got dressed and went on with my life.

[loserpumpkin]

Your promises were like the air I breathe,

a constant sigh in my chest.

I loved you with every fiber of my being,

with every atom that makes me whole.

We were strangers who found each other,

a flash in the darkness of the night.

I felt safe looking into your eyes.

a refuge against the cruel world.

But now the air feels cold,

a void in the place you used to fill.

My atoms scream your name,

a painful melody in my mind.

My arms reach for you in the dark,

a desperate prayer in my soul.

But I only find solitude,

a silence that consumes me.

You were my everything,

my entire world,

a light in my somber life.

Now only pain remains,

a reminder of all we lost.

I love you. Always.

[inkpressedpetals]

[briargracepoetry]

Dancing on Masks

I went to a ball with you.

You told me

I was beautiful,

that you loved me.

You held the door

and my hand,

paid for dinner,

and escorted me

to the dance floor.

Those first dances

were woven from hope,

the fragile fabric

of happily ever after.

But as we danced,

I noticed a change.

I realized

it was a masquerade ball,

and the masks

were meant to suffocate.

Forgiveness removed its mask,

revealing tolerance.

Love unmasked itself

as lust.

Desire became

mere acceptance.

Peace revealed

awkward silence.

Patience turned

to frustration.

Service soured

into resentment.

Independence became

escape.

And the hope

of what I thought we’d be

became the burden

of reconciling

what we became.

Those butterflies

I called excitement

turned out to be dread.

But the doors are closed,

our partners chosen.

So I remain

in your arms,

dancing till the end,

even as my feet bleed

from all the broken masks

beneath our steps.

-Briar Grace Poetry

[briargracepoetry]

Old Habits Die Hard

I hear a joke

and instinctively

I turn to tell you—

because for so long,

you were the first person

I shared laughter with.

But you’re not there

to laugh anymore.

A memory drifts in,

soft around the edges,

and I open my mouth

to say, “Remember when…”

But there’s only silence

where your voice used to be—

silence that doesn’t answer back,

silence that doesn’t remember

anything at all.

Something happens—

big, small, or nothing special—

and my hand still reaches

for my phone,

for your name,

for the familiar comfort

of being understood.

But you’re not there to listen,

and I’m left holding a moment

with no one to give it to.

Grief isn’t always a tidal wave—

sometimes it’s just muscle memory

reaching into emptiness.

Old habits die hard—

far harder

than old friends do.

-BriarGrace Poetry