Quiescent Sorrow

existence on shuffle mode

[myhiddenquerencia]

He is terribly afraid of dying because he hasn't yet lived.

Franz Kafka

[myhiddenquerencia]

If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were.

Kahil Gibran

[myhiddenquerencia]

I’m scared this is all i’ll ever be.

[myhiddenquerencia]

[myhiddenquerencia]

You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing…

And you're terrified somebody's going to stick you in a cage.

Well, baby, you're already in that cage.

You built it yourself.

[myhiddenquerencia]

I asked my friends what was the heaviest thing they’ve carried. One said a dumbbell, the other said her heart.

[myhiddenquerencia]

🫨

I spill my tea again and trip on the floor,

mess grows faster than I can restore.

They call it a joke, it isn’t even funny,

I laugh anyway, bitter like honey.

A glance down the hall, i doubt it twice,

he’s chaos, stupid, sugar and spice.

Imagined words float, flutter, then fade,

but i feel them linger in the corners he made.

It’s messy, it’s stupid, it’s mine to defend,

and i stay standing, exactly where i end.

My tea goes cold, again, it doesn’t spill,

all too much of chaos, but I want it still.

-S

[myhiddenquerencia]

what if one day i decide to make the sky prettier

would it dim the earth’s light?

what if i pulled the blue a bit too far, stretched it till it killed the evening star. leave a soft spirit where i used to be, and let the sky wear pieces of me.

they ask how things have been around, i nod, my shoes don’t make a sound. they laugh, i try to lift my face, something’s missing in that space.

there's chatter spilling down the hall, but i can’t hear it at all. my tea goes cold, i still don’t blink, some days i feel too much to think.

and if one dusk feels dimmer than the rest, if pigeons pause before the nest, don’t ask if i’ve gone or why or when, just close the curtain. count to ten.

-S

[myhiddenquerencia]

happiness called its way, but sorrow looked at me and i didn’t look away. why would i? when it’s the only thing that stays.

i wasn’t ignored, but i was never seen, they asked how i was, but never asked what i mean they'll never know how i screamed inside, how i had nothing to do but cry.

"why so quiet", i call it survival. because if i speak, i might spiral.

i’m not strong, i’m not calm, just good at pretending nothing’s wrong. never noticed the red on my laugh. guess pain looks prettier when you cut it in half.

-S

[myhiddenquerencia]

An end to a part of me

"I love that I am a 'poet,' but I don't like the reason why I am one," I would rant to my friends, I would always regret choices.

This post is maybe my last one. I wanted an 'official' end to this, to the crying and whatever comes in that package. So if I do come back, it wouldn't be for the same reason. Either self-love or depression, but if it is THAT kinda post, it has to be a new phase.

And of course, thank you for following me throughout this journey, shoutout to him or I wouldn't be recognized.

and so thank you! and bye!

-S

[myhiddenquerencia]

Should I fear this happiness, this joy or should I wait, wait to break and be destroyed?

-S

[myhiddenquerencia]

“The sea speaks more honestly to those willing to drown.”

Irtiqa Nabi

[myhiddenquerencia]

To have ruined one's self over poetry is an honour

Oscar Wilde

[myhiddenquerencia]

burn me

You came back in my dreams, soft as fire,

Whispering things that only fueled desire.

I woke up alone, but the ache remained,

A love once burning, now drowning in pain.

I tried to pretend, bury the pain,

but you reached for her, and it burned again.

I watched from a distance, helpless and small,

Torn apart, yet I still wanted it all.

Blame me for loving you more than I should,

When she played her game, pretending to be good.

You left me behind, but stayed in my mind,

Now you call me the villain, with nothing to find.

-S

[myhiddenquerencia]

I choke on words they throw my way, Their eyes burn holes, but nothing to say. Spill out blood that marks the floor, Yet they still can't see it anymore.

I bite through blood, taste the pain, Let it flood and leave a stain. Bite my lips until they bleed, Dripping red, a twisted deed.

I scratch at wounds, tearing skin, Each scar a map of where I've been. What am I doing wrong? I sigh, But no one cares to ask me why.

-S

[myhiddenquerencia]

October whispers, and I stand, Words left behind, scattered like sand What if I fall again, under the stars? Will love find its way, from afar?

Colors shift and blur, I can feel the weight, Golden sparks flicker; is it love or fate? I am decorating shadows, letting them in, This chaos inside me, where do I begin?

A strange freedom to feel this way, Am I allowed to want you, to wish you’d stay? On the edge of falling, I know the cost, Dare I love again, or will I be lost?

-S

[myhiddenquerencia]

for she is his poet and he is her poetry