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[worldofish]

broke my heart so bad, I started writing poetry again.

[worldofish]

From the moment we are born,
we are controlled by money.
The clinking of metal,
chained around our necks,
rings with our first wails—
as if announcing to the world
only the privileged
are worth naming.

Only the documented
deserve a future.

A status.
A symbol.
A claim of true heritage,

of manufactured identity.

Karmic retribution?
Is that the answer
to class divide?

Then tell me—
why are the rich
born rich
while the poor
keep getting poorer?

No.
No interpretation of survival of the fittest
can justify this.

Because if survival is what Darwin meant—

then explain to me why

those who endure the harshest conditions

are the very ones

who can’t afford

a single piece of bread

on their table.

Survival of the fittest?

Then why do soldiers die

while the king remains seated on his throne?

This isn’t survival of the fittest.

This is survival of the corrupt.

Survival of the cowardly.

Those who hide behind shields

are the same ones

who hold the pen

and decide what is written.

They corrupt the children—

from the textbooks we learn

to the food we’re told to consume.

Becuase what we consume

is what we become.

Look around.

We are mirrors of history.

Walking evidence

of class divide.

Living proof

that status and power

manufacture reality.

They rewrite the books,

overturn history,

turning records into journals of crime,

confessions of the guilty.

They continue to remove the unnamed soldiers from the narrative of the war,

using pens held by blood-soaked hands,

attempting to erase the evidence—

burying the bodies of the dead

in the soil of our motherland.

Yet they those that have sacrificed

Can never be erased.

They live in the trees.

They move in the wind.

No matter how deep the truth is buried,

it breathes—

in nature,

and in our children.

So we must educate the young

to remember the names—

of criminals who proudly

commit murder with a smile.

For class divide doesn’t start with war.
It starts with pen and paper.

A birth certificate.
A currency.
A history book
that was never meant
to educate.

[worldofish]

To you, 3000 years from now

I hate you.

But gently.

The way night hates the sun—

not with violence,

just with distance.

I hate red,

Because it knows

How love is only achieved

After it learns how to bleed.

I hate pink,

Because it is softness

That was never protected.

Is it worth it?

To sacrifice everything

for a love that will never see the light?

Of countless futures

that will never be realized?

The atom that once trembled

at your touch

now rejects the frequency

of your becoming.

I am the antithesis of your love,

everything opposite

of what you’ve known.

A walking contradiction—

love and hate

sharing one body.

An anomaly.

The crucifixion

of faith and doubt.

I am a believer,

and believing in you

was my softest mistake.

Faith wrapped wool

around my eyes,

and I needed no proof

to spill my loyalty.

Yet you are not God—

so why do you keep demanding

my surrender?

If fate is real,

I will fight its current.

If destiny drags me forward,

I will walk backward,

like a penguin leaving its colony—

aiming for mountains

that were never meant

to be reached.

I refuse a love so weak,

a love that kneels

at fear.

Because the love I gave you

came from depth—

and what you offered

could not even reach the surface.

[worldofish]

the day after u killed yourself

The day after u killed yourself u would want to die again Not because of the pills but because the weight of waking up

feels like betrayal,

because breathing feels illegal 

You would be reminded of all the ways u are a burden The look on ur mom’s face forcing tears back into ur eyes Realizing how close u came

And suddenly ur pain becomes guilt

and guilt becomes heavier than the pills

U will remember the 9 resting heavy in ur palm How u swallowed 8 and spared one

Is it cowardice?

Or is it hope?

A quiet call for help A small rebellion against death Proof that some part of u still wanted to stay

A weak heartbeat fighting for survival still begging not to go

U wake up to the stench of alcohol and the coughing of a dying man beside u With glaring lights Accompanied by white sheets And a cold body pretending to be alive

Ironic How one of us fights to stay the other begging to be 6 feet underground

A beat of silence

A conversation with God to ask for forgiveness and wonder if this is the punishment To live longer than those who want life more than I do If the price of wanting to escape the cages of living means carrying the burden forever

The doctor lifts ur pinky

A quiet anchor

A fragile promise 

to never close the door halfway

U repeat it

over

and over

until it settles in ur chest

and learns how to stay

the chinese guard standing beside ur bed offering small smiles like quiet prayers a proof that strangers can care soft crease lines marking her face 

But Strong enough to keep u breathing

Ur mom’s warm hands wrap around urs Her eyes holding worry and love Her brows folding into prayers she never learned how to say aloud

And thats when u will notice 

Humanity hides in shadows Even in foreign places where u know no one Even in the deepest hours of night when death is the loudest voice in the room

There is still a thin line of light waiting to touch u waiting to remind u hope exists

As long as a hand reaches out to hold urs

[worldofish]

[worldofish]

20250625

[worldofish]

They say u have to stomach a little evil for the greater good but what the fuck is the greater good even?

[worldofish]

Don’t stare at the sun for too long or you will get burned

Something so beautiful can be so dangerous.

[worldofish]

Love is real because I exist and I’m full of it.

[worldofish]

Fear is what makes you human, admitting weakness means that you are strong enough to be vulnerable. To be kind in a world where everyone is desensitize is an act of bravery. Having innocence has never been a crime. It’s ok to cry and feel joy and to change. It’s ok to just exist. It’s ok to be human.

[worldofish]

Let me stay tender hearted, despite despite despite

- @ChenChenwrites on X

[worldofish]

Mr. Puppington and his flower cart 💐

[worldofish]

Is it so wrong to follow my own pace than getting swept by the ticking of the clock? When had innocence started becoming a weakness?

Will I ever run out of time or will I outran time?

[worldofish]

but it’s okay… it’s a (human thing)

You sit in your throne, high and mighty. But you’re not the king, you’re just a disciple, thinking money could buy everyone. How can you expect people to love you genuinely if you hide yourself behind your ego and fame? Fame is empty, it’s nothing but a sword meant to cut you apart until you’re broken and stripped down with nothing left around you. Empty vessels running around pretending they control everything yet society only mirrors each other. Public controls progress and hierarchy makes public satisfied for money. Nothing will happen if there is division. Bitcoins will never amount to anything if it isn’t for public consumption. Advancement won’t happen if it’s only meant for the top. Nothing won’t change in the future because people are too selfish and greedy.

[worldofish]

We are all interconnected. One small action can be a part of a bigger movement. The future is you! The future is now!

[worldofish]

I want to love. I want to be loved and experience love. And yet I’m scared of it. Love is like a dagger. My parents once love one another and I saw them fall out of love throughout the years. What if I become like them? What if I fell in love and hurt the one I care for? How can I expect to love a person when I don’t even know what it is. Am I not deserving of it? I become so emotionally numb trying to survive in a burning house and now love feels foreign to me. I’m afraid that my love may become a violence. I refuse to hurt the people I care for. And yet I crave it, so bad sometimes my desire suffocates me.

[worldofish]

If it’s too late for Satan, then is it too late for me?