Balance Once Realized

Memoirs of becoming me. Writer, essayist, lyricist and AI hobbyist. If AI artwork is not your thing, keep scrolling. I have no use or time for your negative trolling.

[vinesinmyheart]

Fuck you very very much.

Music by Lily Allen

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Bleeding 🩸

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Masks

Music by Mark Bernes

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Happy spooky season.

Made and owned by @vinesinmyheart

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Timelines

Made and owned by me @vinesinmyheart

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#fanart Music by M83

All images and animations made by me @vinesinmyheart using @klingai

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#fanart Music by Wasia Project

All images and animation created by me @vinesinmyheart using @klingai

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Music by Fiona Apple

Video by me @vinesinmyheart

Made with @klingai

[vinesinmyheart]

Saved By Your Memory

One night you sang to me
through time,
through the universe.
I knew it was you,
I knew it was for me,
but our timelines never matched.

I imagine you on the porch,
smoking cigarettes,
hair in your face,
eyes on an old guitar.
A notebook full of secrets,
dying to be heard.

I would sit beside you,
be the one who listens,
the one who understands.
We were woven from the same cloth,
now torn into hate and scars.
Together, we make it easier—
the honesty between us.

Somewhere, in another life,
I was yours,
your reason for living,
the thread that mended the tear.
I was the one.
You were my love.
I feel it every day—
somewhere.

Maybe you are out there,
watching,
knowing—
the way only we can.

[vinesinmyheart]

Well Actually…

Sometimes the sky is just blue, my love.

Some days, we exist—
that’s all we do.

People may look like one thing,
but be another.

It doesn’t matter, dearest.
The tiny inconsistencies
that drive your brain—

they change nothing
but your level of security.

Let it go, sweetie.
Life doesn’t exist
in your book of rules and regulations.

In reality, life happens—
messy,
communicated like melted candles,
not yours or mine to mold.

And it’s nobody’s job but yours
to understand the pictures left
in the dripped and dried wax.

I.M

[vinesinmyheart]

Another Year

Every year, I watch the clock turn twelve.
Maybe this year will be better.
Maybe I won’t cry as many days,
won’t carry as many wounds.
But every year,
my birthday proves me wrong.

I don’t have friends I can hug.
Family is lost on me—
all venom,
all rot.
I had no choice but to close the door,
familial poison seeping through my veins,
like a disease with no cure but abandon.

No, birthdays have never been happy for me.
I’ve been a burden,
an expense,
an afterthought—
never celebrated,
never cherished.

The truth is:
my life has been very lonely.

Happy birthday to me.
All I have is me.
Happy being born, Isla.

You were not meant for this world.
It doesn’t love you.
It will never accept you.
All you can do
is love yourself.

[vinesinmyheart]

Diving

My deep-diving gear is worn.

I’ve adapted to its patches

And ribbons of broken weave.

Cracks in the mechanisms,

Taped and glued a thousand times.

Retrieving fresh air from the surface—

It’s slow.

You have to keep acclimating,

Or your lungs will explode,

Painfully.

And the dead don’t heal.

I now appreciate the slow rise,

Knowing it always leads to the surface.

Seeing the sky again takes time.

Smelling salty-sweet breezes is the reward,

The freedom of the sun.

I’m a diver.

This is my process.

Seeing the depths,

Feeling their presence,

Has made me resilient,

Adaptable, and strong.

Every time I thought I was drowning,

And I would never take another breath,

Slowly, I rose to the surface.

Again and again.

I’m a diver.

This is how I survive.

-E.M

[vinesinmyheart]

Difficult

I want to be difficult,

Defy my sorrow,

Stand up to my trauma,

Quit asking permission

To feel what lives in me.

I’m ready to bust open the doors

On the pity party in my head.

I’m opening the curtains—

We’re letting the sun in.

New energy is here:

It’s me,

And I’m difficult,

In the best way.

Put out notice:

To those who’ve walked

On my heart—

The ones with their hands out,

But their eyes closed.

I’m no longer available.

Come knockin’,

I promise,

You’ll find me—

Quite difficult.

- E.M

[resqectable]

“You have saved yourself from drowning every time before this. You will rescue yourself again.”

— Nikita Gill, Powerful One Sentence Reminders To Read When You Are Doubting Your Growth And Healing

[vinesinmyheart]

Rest

Autumn settles deep in the forest,

A beautiful death.

The trees, weary from long, hot summer days,

Release their crisp, decaying leaves from ancient limbs,

Ready to rest.

Flowers bow low, heavy with tattered, aging petals—

So many small deaths,

In the season of pumpkin pies,

And cozy nights by the fire.

Inside, we gather close,

Bundle up,

Celebrate one another.

Outside, the sun retreats,

The plants wither,

Food grows scarce,

The animals vanish into hiding.

Death reigns quietly—

The whispered theme of the season.

Winter’s cold breath pauses life—

As autumn’s forests fade

Into dark winter nights.

In the harshness of cold,

Where death calls,

Life waits beneath,

Ready to bloom in spring.

The cycle begins again.

- E.M

[thepersonalquotes]

Shop

[vinesinmyheart]

Remnants

Do you ever feel

like the last in line

for love?

Cup ready,

heart hungry,

but by the time it’s my turn,

love’s been given away,

broken,

or used up.

Still waiting patiently,

empty-handed,

hopeful.

But when I step up,

to the front of the line,

the pot holds only sticky remnants—

not enough,

not enough for anyone.

Scraping for what’s left,

I take what I’m given.

Hungry is hungry,

and love has eluded me.

If this is all there is,

even just a little,

I’ll lick the bowl clean.

Love is a flavor we all want to savor,

something I’ve served,

more than I’ve tasted.

The days when it may touch my tastebuds,

are getting further and further away,

life itself grows bland.

How I’d love to taste a big bite of love,

juicy, sweet, running down my chin,

dripping to my breast and into my heart.

These dry bits of affection just won’t do.

If I’m ever just right,

let me know,

let me taste,

let me feel love.

I long for a life of decadence,

and love sounds like a

delicious privilege.