The Library of Ashes
Here, every poem is a smoldering page — whispered confessions, soft ruins, and sacred rage. Wander newest to oldest.
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For a Moment, I Was Home
I was staying with the guy who offered me a place—a warm, open home in the Philippines. The morning was slow, soft. We just talked and laughed, getting to know each other better as the sun filtered through the window. I felt… weightless. For the first time in so long, my body didn’t ache. I…
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The Hollowed Frame
My knees don’t bend anymore—they buckle.Like ruins left too long in the rain,stone tired of pretending to be strong.They scream when I stand,and I still fucking stand. My fingers feel like they’re snappingunder the weight of nothing.Every joint—cracked glass,splinters in slow motion.Even silence hurts. I drag this body like a broken casket.Like I’m already deadand…
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The Weight of Wonder
I’m terrified—not the kind of fear that fades, but the kind that lives in my bones, whispering at every quiet moment, reminding me that I might break the one I finally hold close. Because I know what it’s like to be broken, to feel like a cracked mirror— and sometimes, I catch myself reflecting that…
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Infinity Within (+ “Roll Credits” and “Post-Credit Scene)
They say, “You’re not depressed, that’s not what I see.” But that’s my secret, Cap— I am the snap between sanity and silence, Dust in the wind, Fading while pretending to remain whole. You see a Stark exterior— But my mind’s a multiverse of madness, Where grief loops like Loki’s lies, Where hope wears a…