Discover Top Posts Tagged with #softsadness

You speak to me like the sun speaks to the moon, as if all my phases are my own doing. You tell me to reflect, to search through my darkness and find the reason i have become so distant, so cold, so difficult to hold.

But you never notice how long i have survived and borrowed light. Every silence in me was first born from you leaving, every storm you call "to much" was began with the gravity of your own hands.

Still, you rise each morning believing you are blameless asking the moon why she no longer glows without ever wondering what it feels like to only be seen when the sun decides to look.

#writing #poetry #softsadness #wordofsorrow #oceanofthoughts #Spotify

Exist

I came to the conclusion that this will be my last year here.

Today, 11/05/2026. A month and a few days before my 22nd birthday.

22 is a good number, though it does not even represent a quarter of the average human lifespan.

There is something deeply unsettling about realizing time can suddenly become finite.

Not in the abstract way people like to romanticize. Not in the poetic sense that makes others speak of sunsets, gratitude, and living fully.

No, it becomes arithmetic.

a number, an estimate, a quiet expiration date lingering in the background of every ordinary moment.

For most of my life, I moved as if time were an infinite resource.

Something guaranteed. Something so painfully ordinary that I never once thought to question it.

And now even that illusion has been taken from me.

Compressed into something smaller, narrower, manageable enough to count.

How strange it is to continue existing after that.

To keep studying, answering messages, pretending future tense is still a language I fluently speak.

Everything feels faintly absurd now.

Deadlines. Long term plans. The casual arrogance of the word “later.” As if "later" belongs to everyone equally.

I have not discovered hidden beauty within the fragility of existence.

I only feel tired.

Not the kind of tired sleep fixes. A heavier kind. A structural exhaustion.

The kind that settles quietly into your bones, your thoughts, your breathing.

As if some essential part of me has already begun mourning something that has not happened yet.

Perhaps that is the cruelest part. Not death itself.

But being made aware of it far too early.

Being forced to carry its outline through otherwise ordinary days.

There is no elegant conclusion to this. No profound lesson. No inspiring final perspective.

Only this:

I am 21 years old, and I was never meant to become this familiar with endings.

Dear

Thank you for sharing a part of your life with me.

Thank you for giving me your constant love and happiness, for the way your smile alone was enough to make me feel okay again.

I don’t usually talk about you, not because I dislike remembering the wonderful person you were, but because it hurts too much.

We were like siblings, the best friends in the universe.

Your home was my home, and mine was yours.

And even so, I never saw how badly you were struggling.

What were you thinking? What were you feeling? Why didn’t you talk to me? Why didn’t you call me?

Why didn’t I give you more hugs when your little eyes no longer shined the way they always did?

Why didn’t I notice in time?

Had I done so, I don’t know if things would have changed, but I would have tried.

I would have given everything for you, just as I know you would have done for me.

I dreamed of you today, after all these years.

I saw your face again, your teary eyes, everything I still miss.

I hope that one day I can see you again.

I don’t know under what circumstances, or in what time

but even if I don’t speak about you, even if I avoid thinking of you,

I will always love you.

Disappear

What does it really feel like to disappear?

Is it truly cowardice to no longer want to keep carrying this version of myself?

To not look back and simply stop existing in the lives of others.

It is my bittersweet fantasy, one that can only become real when I am asleep.

I don’t want to feel anything anymore.

I want it to stop hurting.

I want one night of silence, without fear, without noise, without this constant feeling that I am carrying too much.

Without the pressure of not being allowed to fail, of not becoming a failure.

It is suffocating. It drowns me, pulls me under.

I just want to rest for a little while...

from myself, from this, from everything.

Coldest

doomed playing in the background.

cold floor beneath my skin, moonlight through the window, and a body too tired to hold itself together properly.

maybe this is what resting looks like when your mind doesn’t know how to stop.

Breathe

What i supposed to do… with…. that…

Lemon

I found peace from the moment you came into my life.

I can’t imagine anyone else being capable of doing what, with a smiling face, you awakened within me.

All the sadness of that day, all the pain of those days,

I came to appreciate them, knowing you would always be by my side.

Walking beside you beneath a gray cloud, you were the half that completed all of my existence, and despite everything, you still remain a light in my life.

I beg you, please forget the moments we once shared.

From the bottom of my heart, I beg you because you are no longer here.