The World Moves On

Sometimes I watch as the world moves on

while I am standing perfectly still.

I am hidden underneath blankets,

trying to feel smaller than I am.

In moments like these, I can see that

when I am trying to disappear

and forgotten from the world, I am.

The world doesn’t need me or miss me.

The world goes on with or without me.

Would it really be that bad if I

just disappeared? I’m not needed here.

If I was, the world would notice.

The world would care that I’m at my end,

But the world doesn’t. It will go on.

I will be forgotten when I die.

My impact is so minuscule that

after the blink of an eye, my death

will be a tally added to the

billions who faded out before me.

You don’t think about any of them,

nor will you think about me in  time

because the world moves on without me





No Regrets.

Rain has been sliding down the windowsill all day,

yet not a single tear has found its way down my face.

I’m too numb and too lost to understand what happened.

My biggest dream in life is gone now and so am I.

It turns out that happiness just wasn’t in the cards.

My one and only hope that life would improve someday

has just been thrown out the window and is gone for good.

I’ve been clinging to this hope since I was in high school.

That little thought at times was my only will to live.

Now I just don’t know what I’ll do from here. Maybe die?

I know my soul did today. Now it’s time to catch up.

Nothing to hold me back anymore. I’ve no regrets.

Adore Something Dead

I wish I were a tree

During this time of year.

Trees of all sorts are praised

On all their bright colors.

There are reds and bright pinks,

Oranges, yellows, and brown.

Once a year, people stare.

People stop just to gawk.

And adore something dead.

I don’t understand how

People enjoy the sight

Of millions of dead leaves.

It is like once a year,

Death is seen as beauty,

but only towards trees.

If that thought were to keep

its meaning with humans,

Then I would be seen as

Most beautiful of all

For I am dead inside.

But we don’t celebrate

My lack of emotion,

Or anyone’s infact.

We lock them up in rooms

And say they’re the problem.

Are we? Are we really?



Friend To Friend: An advice poem

*so I wrote this poem a good 7 years ago for an eighth grade project( keep that in mind as the rhythm is truly non existent). It was meant to be a comfort poem for my best friend since her grandfather had recently passed. Now, considering the current state of my own grandmother, I find this poem to also be a comfort. I hope other can as well*

I know that you are devoted by his passing on,

But it’s time to start moving on.

Now missing him isn’t wrong,

But you need to move along.

For else, he will never arrive

At the place he looked forward to while alive.


Now this place he hopes to find

Is like no other kind,

It has everything he’ll ever need.

Yes, Heaven is an amazing place indeed.

So in order for him to go,

You must be willing to let go.


I know heart’s aren’t easy to mend,

But that is why I’m here for you, my friend.

I am here to help you through this painful journey

For I have been there and know it isn’t easy.

Now I know it won’t heal over night,

But after awhile, you’ll feel alright.