J.S.S.

[writer-jerry95]

“The switch”

The worst part isn’t the anger…

It’s how easy the switch flips.

Attachment built like a survival tool

Learned young—don’t rely, don’t lose

Every hand that reached came with a cost

Every “stay” eventually got lost

Blueprint written in absence and strain

Care was conditional, love came with pain

So the heart learned tricks just to survive—

Stay fully present, then sever the line

And it’s clean—no warning sign

No long goodbye, no drawn-out fight

Just a switch flipped somewhere inside

And the connection quietly dies

Can give everything—every vein, every breath

Hold someone close like there’s nothing left

Be the place they run, be the air in their chest—

Then erase it all like it never meant shit

No hesitation, no visible scar

One second near, next second gone

No chasing ghosts, no looking back—

Just cut the cord and don’t react

History carved in a kid who stayed quiet

Learned how to bury, learned how to hide it

Taught to be strong meant “don’t be seen”

So emotions got locked where they couldn’t bleed

Now every bond feels temporary at best

Time bombs ticking inside the chest

Care too much or don’t care at all—

No middle ground, just build and fall

Lines get drawn without a sound

Love goes missing, not a trace found

Every lie just tightens the thread

Till it snaps and it’s already dead

Can give everything—every vein, every breath

Hold someone close like there’s nothing left

Be the place they run, be the air in their chest—

Then erase it all like it never meant shit

No hesitation, no visible scar

One second near, next second gone

No chasing ghosts, no looking back—

Just cut the cord and don’t react

No warning.

No discussion.

No mercy.

GONE.

One minute—everything.

Next minute—nothing left to hold.

No fight. No tears. No sound.

Just a name that doesn’t exist anymore.

HOW DOES SOMETHING REAL JUST—

—stop?

CUT IT OUT

CUT IT OFF

CUT THE FEELING WHEN IT GETS TOO CLOSE

NO DEPTH

NO ROOTS

NO CHANCE TO LOSE CONTROL

Nothing stays.

Nothing stays.

Built to connect—then rip it apart

Before it can tear through what’s left of the heart

Before it can settle

Before it can stay

Before it can learn how to make someone—

STAY.

Somewhere deep, the pattern repeats

Hold too tight, then delete

Not cruelty—just learned defense

A disappearing act that makes sense

But every cut leaves something behind

Even when it’s buried alive

Even when nothing is said out loud—

The silence still screams somehow

Everything given—every piece, every breath

Turn into nothing with nothing left

Be the reason a heartbeat stays—

Then vanish without a trace

No hesitation, no visible scar

One second close, next second far

No chasing ghosts, no turning back—

Just cut the cord…

And don’t react

That’s the scariest part…

It never feels wrong.

[writer-jerry95]

Everybody says tomorrow

Carries something worth the wait

Some days every minute

Adds another little weight

The mind gets good at making deals

Selling comfort wrapped in grace

Whispers, “Take a little breather,

No one has to know the place.”

Promises are dressed in kindness

Measured, patient, never loud

Always finding careful language

Never standing out in crowds

Just enough to close the distance

Just enough to finally rest…

Just a break… if only for a little while

Long enough to lay the burden down

Not forever… that’s the story that it tells

Hope disguised as somewhere else

Every promise sounds so peaceful

Every answer sounds so right

But relief keeps borrowing tomorrow

One heartbeat at a time

No final words rehearsed beforehand

No anger waiting at the door

Only someone growing weary

Of carrying a little more

Every bargain grows persuasive

Every reason starts to bend

Until surviving feels like labor

Without remembering the end

Rest was always the destination.

The lie…

was believing

this road

could ever lead there.

IT NEVER ASKED FOR FOREVER.

ONLY…

“JUST A LITTLE WHILE.”

THAT’S HOW THE LIE SURVIVES.

ONE SMALL BARGAIN…

AT A TIME.

Just a break… if only for a little while

Long enough to lay the burden down

Peace was never waiting where it pointed

Only silence wearing comfort’s smile

Tomorrow still keeps calling

Even when today

Can barely answer.

[writer-jerry95]

Just a last step, just a last breath…

One loop, two knots, three seconds left…

No note, no sound, no one to blame…

Just a quiet room and a borrowed name…

I’m stuck at the ledge where the silence gets fed

By the voice in my skull putting price on my head,

Every thought’s a verdict, every memory’s a trial,

Every mile I survived wasn’t worth the denial.

I’m a sketch of regret in a frame full of blame,

Hanging four feet above where they whisper my name,

They said I was broken, just a pawn in their game,

But the mirror keeps showing someone drowning in shame.

This eight-foot rope got a story to tell,

Twisted tight from the nights I was trapped in myself,

Pull me out of the gravity, drop out the dream,

Where hope’s just a rumor and faith’s just a meme.

Give in to the silence, let the quiet applaud,

Every heartbeat’s a critic, every goodbye’s a fraud.

Took the last step I had, left the world on a pause,

Now I’m falling through memories, just fading because…

I was never the hero, never fit in the frame,

Just a face in the background with a number not a name,

If the world never loved me, it’ll forget me the same,

So I’m ending the story where the silence remains…

I’m the voice that gets lost when the curtain comes down,

I’m the ghost in the photos when nobody’s around,

Tried to swim through the noise but I drowned in the sound

Of a jury of faces saying I don’t belong.

I wore every insult like a badge on my chest,

Stacked them into walls, built a home in my unrest,

Every “I love you” was a check that bounced,

Every “I’m here for you” never there when it counts.

Sick of empty embraces and bandage-wrapped words,

Being the punchline in jokes I never heard,

So I’m signing my exit in invisible ink,

Let the world build a story, let them all overthink.

Give in to the silence, let the quiet applaud,

Every heartbeat’s a critic, every goodbye’s a fraud.

Took the last step I had, left the world on a pause,

Now I’m falling through memories, just fading because…

No one really noticed, no one really stayed,

Just a pile of promises slowly decayed,

If a life’s just a story, mine was already erased,

So I’m leaving this world without leaving a trace…

“Hey… I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this.

I just needed to say I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be what everyone needed me to be.

I tried… I really did try.

I just got tired.

Not sleep tired… just tired of everything.

If you’re hearing this, it means I lost the fight.

And I’m sorry for that too.”

If I could bottle the pain, I’d be rich from the hurt,

Every tear would be diamonds, every scar would be worth

All the nights I spent begging just to feel understood,

All the times I was trying just to be something good.

But the truth is I’m tired, I’m just tired of the fight,

Tired of waking up just to survive every night,

Tired of holding the weight that nobody can see,

Tired of being alive but not wanting to be.

You said it gets better but it never did

Just learned how to hide it and pretend to live

Every day just another mask to wear

Every room full of people but nobody there

Built this life on a fault line heart

Held it together now it’s coming apart

If this is living then what is the point

Breathing but every breath feels like a joint

You don’t see the cracks cause the smile works

You don’t see the damage cause the silence works

You don’t see the war that never ends

You just see a person who pretends

Give in to the silence, let the quiet applaud,

Every heartbeat’s a critic, every goodbye’s a fraud.

Took the last step I had, left the world on a pause,

Now I’m falling through memories, just fading because…

Maybe someone will listen, maybe someone will see,

Maybe someone will hear what this life did to me,

If a life’s just a story, and mine had to end,

At least now the hurting finally ends…

It’s the person you pushed… remember the name…

I’m the tear in your silence, the ghost in your frame…

You won’t hear the rope… you won’t hear the fall…

But you’ll hear the quiet… louder than all…

Just a last step…

Just a last breath…

[thoughtkick]

“When you protect yourself from pain, be sure you do not protect yourself from love.”

— Alan Cohen

[writer-jerry95]

One for the lie.

One for the leaving.

One for the night

I stopped believing.

One for the promise

you swore you meant.

One for the pieces

I never spent.

Brick.

By brick.

By brick.

I didn’t wake up wanting walls.

Nobody does.

You start with something small enough

to call protection.

A little distance.

A locked door.

A sentence swallowed

before it becomes a confession.

Then somebody teaches you

that open hands get emptied.

Somebody teaches you

that trust is just another word

for giving them somewhere soft

to put the knife.

So

lay another one.

Right there.

Cover the opening.

Make it fit.

A little more mortar.

A little less heart.

Funny how safety

and loneliness

look identical

when you’re standing this far apart.

Brick by brick,

I built this thing around me.

Every goodbye

made it taller.

Every betrayal

made it stronger.

Every “I love you”

followed by an “I’m sorry”

gave these hands

another reason to keep working.

Now nothing gets in.

Nothing gets through.

Nothing can hurt me

and nothing can love me, too.

Keep building.

Don’t look down.

Don’t ask how high it’s gotten.

Don’t count the names

buried somewhere in the foundation.

Friends.

Family.

Lovers.

Every person who taught me

that being known

was just giving somebody ammunition.

I learned masonry

without ever touching stone.

Measured every conversation.

Leveled every emotion.

Cut every vulnerable part of me

until it fit neatly

behind something nobody could move.

And God

I got good at it.

Brick for the anger.

Brick for the shame.

Brick for every time

I took somebody else’s blame.

Brick for the nights

I needed somebody

and stared at the phone

until needing became embarrassing.

Brick for the kid

who kept waiting at the window.

Brick for the man

who finally stopped.

Stack them.

Higher.

Higher.

HIGHER.

Brick by brick,

I built this thing around me.

Every goodbye

made it taller.

Every betrayal

made it stronger.

Every “I love you”

followed by an “I’m sorry”

gave these hands

another reason to keep working.

Now nothing gets in.

Nothing gets through.

Nothing can hurt me

and nothing can love me, too.

So keep laying them!

One for every person

who said they’d stay!

One for every promise

that couldn’t hold its weight!

One for every hand

I reached for

that came back empty!

One for every goddamn time

I was told I was too much

while giving everything in me!

KEEP BUILDING!

If nobody can reach me,

nobody can leave me!

If nobody can know me,

nobody can use me!

If nobody gets close

NOBODY GETS CLOSE!

LOOK AT IT!

LOOK WHAT I MADE!

A monument to every person

I was terrified to lose!

A fortress built from everything

I couldn’t forgive!

I spent my whole life

trying to make something

strong enough

that nobody could ever hurt me again

AND I DID!

I FUCKING DID!

So why does it feel

like I’m the one

buried behind it?

Brick.

By brick.

By brick.

I kept everyone out.

Brick.

By brick.

By brick.

Until I couldn’t get out.

Brick by brick,

I built this thing around me.

Every goodbye

made it taller.

Every betrayal

made it stronger.

And somewhere between

surviving them

and protecting what was left

I became the prisoner.

I became the guard.

I became the walls.

And now I’m screaming

from inside something

I built with my own hands

wondering why nobody

comes looking anymore.

Maybe the last brick

was never meant

to keep you out.

Maybe…

it was the one

that sealed me in.

[writer-jerry95]

Is the pain becoming less

Or, am I just better at ignoring it?

Is the weight getting light

Or, have just become strong enough?

Is this really happening

Or am I… DISSOCIATING!

[thepersonalquotes]

[paper-wounds]

via

[quotefeeling]

“It’s both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so very deeply.”

— David Jones

[writer-jerry95]

“I burnt list”

“Do you remember me?”

You stood tall in crowded halls,

Told me what I’d never be

Painted scars behind closed doors

But you were teaching me to see

How to pick my battles, hold my tongue

Not let your poison stay

You taught me how to breathe real deep

Walk on, turn the other way

Funny how the lessons come

Wearing faces I’d erase

But here I am, still standing

While you’re learning how it tastes

You were one of the ones who broke me down

Built your throne on shaky ground

Carved your words into my skin

All the while you taught me how to win

Taught me peace instead of rage

How to turn and walk away

You were the hand that forced me low

So how’s it feel to eat the dirt below?

Years have passed, but I still hear

Every laugh behind my back

You tried to feed me bitterness

But I left it on the rack

Now the tables spin and creak

And you’re the one who’s small

Funny, all your pride and bark

Can’t break a single fall

Funny how this story turns

You can’t outrun what you’ve done

I found life in spite of you

And you’re choking on your tongue

You were one of the ones who broke me down

Built your throne on shaky ground

Carved your words into my skin

All the while you taught me how to win

Taught me peace instead of rage

How to turn and walk away

You were the hand that forced me low

So how’s it feel to eat the dirt below?

I learned to hold my anger close

Not let it lead me blind

You taught me, without ever knowing

The power of a kinder mind

But here you are, with empty hands

And stories wearing thin

While I rise up from the hurt

You’re sinking in your sin

You were one of the ones who broke me down

Built your throne on shaky ground

Carved your words into my skin

All the while you taught me how to win

Taught me peace instead of rage

How to turn and walk away

You were the hand that forced me low

So how’s it feel to eat the dirt below?

So look at you now, with nothing to say

While I walk free, you fade away

All that’s left is what you sow

How’s it feel to eat the dirt below?

“Do I remember you? Of course I do. It’s hard to forget a name that was on your list.”

[writer-jerry95]

I wish you could fucking read this!!!

Funny thing about bad advice…

It usually sounds a lot better

coming from somebody

who needs you to make the same mistakes they did.

Got real brave with a coward in your ear,

telling you betrayal ain’t betrayal if the reason sounds sincere.

She said, “You deserve better,” while she’s sneaking on her own,

giving relationship advice with three numbers in her phone.

That’s rich.

Taking morals from somebody who misplaced theirs,

letting somebody with a wreck tell you how to make repairs.

She normalized the lying ’cause admitting it was wrong

meant looking at herself and seeing where that guilt belonged.

See, misery loves company, but cheaters need witnesses,

somebody else doing it makes it feel legitimate.

So she handed you excuses, you wore ’em like they fit,

and every time she crossed a line, you moved yours next to it.

What kind of friend helps you destroy what chose you?

Calls it “living your life” while the consequence owns you?

What kind of friend sees a good thing and gets nervous?

Maybe watching you stay loyal made her question her purpose.

So

“Girl, he’ll never know.”

“Girl, you only live once.”

“Girl, if he was doing enough, you wouldn’t need someone.”

Funny how the advice always protects what she’s done.

She wasn’t setting you free.

She was recruiting someone.

Now two guilty consciences can call each other queens,

rewrite what happened till betrayal sounds clean.

Tell each other, “We’re not bad, we were missing something.”

Nah.

You had something.

You just listened to someone

who couldn’t stand seeing you keep

what she keeps fucking up.

Every excuse had fingerprints that weren’t yours,

but your hand was still the one that opened the door.

And don’t get it twisted, I’m not giving her the blame

for decisions that you made when you stepped into that game.

She encouraged it? Sure.

You still chose it.

She handed you the match

you’re the one who fucking lit it.

She told you cheating was healing?

You believed it.

Then came home to somebody faithful

and deceived him.

That’s the part they leave out in the group chat celebration:

betrayal ain’t empowerment just because it gets validation.

A room full of people saying wrong is right

doesn’t turn a knife into anything but a knife.

Now look at the company you chose to keep close

everybody giving advice from the relationships they broke.

Everybody screaming “toxic” at the ones they betrayed,

everybody playing victim when the receipts get displayed.

You became what they applauded.

They became your defense.

Now accountability sounds like disrespect.

That’s convenient as hell

build a circle where nobody can judge

because everybody’s hands are dirty enough.

So keep the friends who taught you love has loopholes.

Keep calling betrayal “finding yourself” if that soothes you.

But when all of them disappear when their own lives implode,

remember who was beside you before they showed you that road.

Because the company you kept

convinced you to hurt

the company that chose you.

And maybe that’s the coldest part

they didn’t teach you how to cheat.

They just made you feel less guilty…

for already wanting to.

[writer-jerry95]

Maybe this is how the story always ends…

Giving every piece away, until there is nothing left to spend.

[thoughtkick]

“Not everyone deserves to know the real you. Let them criticize who they think you are.”

— Unknown

[thoughtkick]

“You deserve the love you keep trying to give everyone else.”

— Unknown

[trefleblanc]

Our greatest form of disconnect as humans is our belief that others think exactly like us.

-trèfleblanc

[writer-jerry95]

Who was there before the first memory? Before a name carried expectations, before a child could mistake surviving for living? Somewhere beneath every scar was a kid who never asked for any of it. A house where love arrived with conditions. Parents whose story was told through accusations instead of understanding. A father who disappeared into long hours trying to provide. A mother whose absence eventually became louder than her presence. Brothers and sisters becoming memories before childhood had the chance to settle. Home becoming something that sounded more like a rumor than a place.

Growing up meant learning that people could leave while they were still standing beside you. It meant reading moods, measuring footsteps, searching faces for proof that today might be different. Every disappointment became another lesson. Every broken promise became another brick in walls never built to keep people out, only to keep hope from escaping.

Somewhere along the way came the belief that love was earned through sacrifice. If enough pieces were given away, maybe someone would finally decide they were worth keeping. Every friendship received another chance. Every relationship another excuse. Every goodbye became a personal failure instead of another person’s decision. The heart learned to apologize for storms it never created.

There were years when pain felt more familiar than peace. Hurting felt honest because it had never lied. Healing felt temporary because it had never stayed. The hardest battles happened inside a mind arguing with itself, wondering if tomorrow could ever become more than another version of yesterday. Surviving slowly became a full-time occupation.

Yet compassion refused to disappear.

Every wound became another reason to understand someone else’s. Every disappointment became another reminder that kindness matters most when it’s hardest to give. Instead of becoming what caused the hurt, there was a relentless decision to become the person that younger self desperately needed. Even after betrayal. Even after carrying guilt that never belonged there.

Music became more than music. It became confession without interruption. Therapy without appointments. A place where ugly truths could stand beside beautiful melodies. Every lyric became another attempt to reach the stranger listening alone, hoping they might realize they weren’t fighting by themselves. Fame was never the destination. If one person heard a song and decided to stay another day, then every sleepless night spent writing had already meant something.

There were questions that never found answers. A father’s approval always felt one achievement away. A mother’s absence continued rewriting birthdays and ordinary afternoons. Relationships proved love cannot survive where trust has already packed its bags. Some losses never become lighter. People simply become stronger than the weight.

Still, something remarkable happened.

The body grew stronger one workout at a time. Every repetition challenged years of believing weakness was permanent. Confidence arrived before the mirror could prove it. Progress stopped looking like perfection and started looking like refusing to quit.

The child who spent years waiting to be chosen slowly discovered another truth: worth was never another person’s permission to give. Being abandoned says more about the one leaving than the one left behind. Forgiveness isn’t permission. It’s refusing to let yesterday keep charging rent for tomorrow.

So here stands a man carrying every chapter without allowing any single chapter to become the title. The neglected child still exists. The grieving son still exists. The betrayed husband still exists. The exhausted friend. The writer who poured his life onto empty pages. The man who wondered whether anyone would notice if he disappeared. They all still exist.

They simply no longer hold the pen.

This life was never defined by what was taken. It was defined by what refused to disappear. Compassion. Loyalty. Curiosity. The willingness to rebuild after every collapse. The stubborn belief that broken people deserve beautiful things too.

This is not a story about winning.

It is a story about refusing to become the reason there was something to survive.

If this is the final goodbye to everything that made yesterday so heavy, let it be known that none of it was meaningless. Every goodbye, every unanswered prayer, every impossible burden became ink for a better ending.

Not because the past was beautiful.

Because someone chose to become beautiful in spite of it.

[ironyquotes]

[oversorted]