#iridescentpuppy

[doggiepoett]

i was high asf last night !

[doggiepoett]

i move through crowds like a ghost

but not the kind that rattles chains

the kind that smiles, nods,

and pretends to belong.

faces blur into each other:

a thousand eyes,

none of them mine.

a thousand voices,

all of them louder than my own silence.

the air is heavy with presence,

yet i feel hollow,

like i am the room

and everyone else

is just passing through me.

loneliness is not emptiness

it is abundance,

too much feeling pressed against my ribs,

so many fragments of connection

that never quite become whole.

at the end of the night,

the world peels itself away,

and i am left with only one witness:

the reflection that does not flinch,

the stranger who wears my skin.

[doggiepoett]

i don’t want to say anything anymore.

words feel like bruises that never formed right,

swollen under the skin,

soft, tender, meaningless.

everyone learns to talk like it’s breathing,

but no one warns you how hard it is to stop.

how once you stop,

everything inside starts echoing,

bouncing around like trapped birds.

i keep thinking i’m an observer,

that i see things clearer than most

the way people’s mouths move

when they don’t mean it,

how laughter always has something rotting behind it,

how silence can scream louder than a person ever could.

but maybe i’m wrong.

maybe i’m not watching anything real,

just my own reflection stretched across every surface.

maybe i’ve mistaken being quiet for being wise.

maybe i’m just scared

of my own voice,

of the sound it makes when no one answers.

my head feels heavier every day.

like a room no one cleans,

thoughts piling up in corners,

some half-alive thing whispering from beneath the clutter,

asking why i stopped talking,

why i’m still here,

why i’m scared of hearing myself.

[doggiepoett]

found on pintrest! :33

[doggiepoett]

Unicorns are real.

i wake up inside a fog,

like someone else’s dream is draped across my skin.

the walls don’t breathe.

the mirror doesn’t blink.

and i

i am a ghost who’s forgotten how to haunt.

everything feels like paper.

thin.

quiet.

not-quite-there.

and i press my hands against the air

just to see if it will hold me.

people say

be real

be present

be you

but i don’t know what me means

on days where my thoughts stretch too loud,

then shrink into static

that hums behind my eyes.

sometimes, i think

maybe i was born in the wrong story.

not made for flesh and bone and

broken mornings.

maybe i was meant to be

a unicorn.

not the glitter kind.

not the plastic toy on a child’s shelf.

but something ancient,

soft and golden,

with eyes full of galaxies and

a heart untouched by gravity.

a creature that doesn’t carry

sorrow like a second skin.

a creature too magical to

hurt.

i want to live in a meadow where

no one asks if i’m okay

because i already am.

where i don’t need to explain

why my soul feels like it’s peeling.

where i am made of light,

not questions.

they tell me unicorns aren’t real.

but neither am i, some days.

so maybe we belong to each other.

maybe i am just an echo

of something purer

something that ran from this world

before it could be touched.

i don’t want to die.

i just want to be

elsewhere.

elsewhen.

unreachable by sharp things.

somewhere

where the only thing that matters

is the wind through my mane

and the stars in my spine.

where i am magic,

not madness.

where i am wonder,

not worry.

where i don’t have to remember

how to be human.

just how to be

free.

because unicorns are real.

and so am i

on the days i choose to believe.

the unicorn in question.. ! ♡

[doggiepoett]

🃏🧸

[doggiepoett]

black barbie 🧁

[doggiepoett]

being spoiled isn’t shallow. it’s self-respect with lip gloss.