I’m the type that pushes everything down till I explode little by little. today I told my best friends I’m done with relationships and that love is dead to me. I might be losing myself but I don’t need help. I got it. I think...I don’t sleep much, been drowning. I don’t know why but I don’t feel much unless it's pain. Last night I dreamt of someone I miss, returning my love to me, but they didn't question me like usual. They didn't care I was trans like they do in reality. I'm Afraid of going comatose. The last words I said to him in my dream were "I love you just the way you are...stop acting like someone else" with a warm smile, holding his face in my hands than kissing him like I used to. But this will never happen. And I'm not okay.

You wake up in the real world as a typical teenage human.

You go to school, play videogames,

do chores, hang out with your friends,

you know. All that jazz.

But, at night, you.....

....fall asleep.

Yeah. That's all. You fall asleep.

Boring.

You have vague memories of odd dreams,

but you never can seem to remember them when--

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You wake up in the real world as a typical teenage fairy.

You go to school, perform magic, defeat dreadful behemoths,

hang out with your friends, you know. All that jazz.

But, at night, you.....

....fall asleep.

Yeah. That's all. You fall asleep.

Boring.

You have vague memories of odd dreams,

but you never can seem to remember them when--

...you don't have to see what I see,

hear what I hear,

feel what I feel.

Life is a beautiful portrait if you choose,

to paint it that way...

the final product will last forever,

it will then,

be seen, heard and felt,

just the way it was lived...

By: Majvor Sabine Aksoy

Wish you were real,

but you're just a fantasy

your love is unconditional

But it's all in my head

I wish you were real

That I could feel you

But you're just a whisper

in midnight air,

a whisper,

that I don't know how to hear.

Wish you were real,

but you're all in my head

and yet you're the only one

who will stay with me till the end

because it's so hard

to find someone

who can listen to me rant

because when I talk I talk fast

and I make no fucking sense

So I wish you were real

Because that would mean

I could feel again.

It couldn't be possible. I knew that. I was making preparations for her burial. She was dead.

Then where's the goddamn body?

COVID has stolen everything from me. My wife, my daughter, my job. Soon, my house. In a few weeks, I'll be kicked out of Suburbia and left to survive the cold winter with no shelter.

I was blowing the last of my money on a proper funeral, and now that has been fucked up, too. Because this morning, the morgue called and informed me that my daughter's body had been stolen. No camera footage. She was just gone.

Sweet Carly. She was just a toddler. She didn't deserve to die gasping for air.

We were so, so careful. But none of it mattered.

As I downed a third bottle of Oxy, waiting for the fucking end, the doorbell rang.

I opened it without looking, lurching drunkenly.

"Hi, Daddy." The girl who looked at him had wide, blue eyes and straw blonde hair. Her eyes were rimmed with red like a sick person.

I found the bodies.

My girl is leading them.

And as I feel the Oxy kicking in, I know that soon, I will join that army.

my lipstick shade is borderline

writing notes for poems

on the way back from San Diego

nostalgia eats at me

on long car rides

my iPhone doesn't recognize

half the words

scrutinizing them with red lines

my boyfriend codes

and doesn't understand poems

overwhelmed with the obscurity

maybe i need more similes

when it's my turn to drive

i get us lost in the wilderness

unable to steer us in the right direction

(maybe a metaphor

works better here)

They don't understand.

I asked for this,

for the pain.

I wanted the attention,

don't let me lie.

I wanted the attention.

I guess it was in vain

becasue despite the silent screming

you don't notice the broken glass.