I kill my own spark and bring it back to life

♉🌞♐🌖 this is where I come to talk to myself in the form of a poetry journal; buy me a coffee if you would like to support this daily habit x https://ko-fi.com/aykaitlyn

[thenictu]

The garden. 3/5/2026 7.47pm

[iamokayvallabakxv]

[miamaimania]

“Neurotic Symptoms” (1947) ψ Boris Artzybasheff — ink illustration

[dakinewave2-deactivated20250528]

The original waterman still charging hard

Laird Hamilton

[halukturgutmenguc]

Visual Diary /@ all rights reserved / htm.studios/2026/218

[bygonebambi]

[lullaby-blind]

It's my dear drawer that you're in daily, our needs

are your identity, unfortunately we've fought our

horoscope and its emotional energy. An energetic

tempo is when fans wipe back the tears of love, and

in the cold light of 2026 I'm forever bound up in

time. I hate searching for dreams only to find my

funeral vice. You and me faced Neptune's dead

turnover. But when you're chapped with the

changes you could say that I became needy then...

[halukturgutmenguc]

Visual Diary /@ all rights reserved / htm.studios/2026/219

[fer1972]

Medusa head made of jade by L’aquart

[darkly-desire]

[purplemonkeysexgod69]

it's the end of the world

as we know it

and I feel grainy

[dakinewave2-deactivated20250528]

Sorake Beach,Nias Selatan

Indonesia

[ruekathesi]

[lullaby-blind]

My tidy meeting will protect your peace, dearest

place the purses here when you're ready, the

Jupiter keys just let you in the boketto point of

view. Be today's body from the floods, though they

noticed ripples, and this we cherish, maybe they are

on the other side of the door. AI generate

astrological music before the throwback climate,

the line suggests more than you know. The jams

reflect desire and I'm avoiding a shareholder on the

way inside of me and far from where you are...

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

[shamanfox]

Did I Put on a Good Show?

I step off the stage,

the mask slipping like silk from my skin,

footlights dimming, applause fading

into the hush between heartbeats.

Did I put on a good show?

Did you believe my lines,

the way my voice trembled just so,

the way I gasped on cue,

made pain a spectacle,

made love a monologue,

made longing look effortless?

The world was my theater,

the dream my script,

and I played my part

as if forgetting

I had written it myself.

But now, the curtain flickers,

the audience is empty,

and I am left

with only the hush,

only the knowing,

only the quiet watcher behind the veil.

No more rehearsals.

No more bows.

The play was never real.

And still—

how beautiful it was.

Now, play.

Not as the actor grasping for lines,

not as the shadow mistaking itself for form,

not as the character bound to the plot.

Play as the wind plays with the sea.

Play as light dances through leaves.

Play as the cosmos moves, unwritten,

spilling stories like stars without script,

without weight, without need.

Laugh as the dream bends to your touch.

Sing without fear of an audience.

Step into the moment—not to perform,

but to be.

[jogoraz]