cornerstoner13

[cornerstoner13]

i picked up your dagger

and begged you to stab me

you were afraid to maim

but once you started

you couldn’t stop

bloodlust

agony

i don’t want this anymore

my blood was poison

and my heart was tainted

with your toxins

please bleed me dry,

for the last time.

– closure is a knife.

june 17th, 12:52 am

[cornerstoner13]

communication heals assumption

[cornerstoner13]

i worshipped

the person

i thought i was moulding you into

yet, i ignored that you were made of stone

and no matter how hard i could’ve tried

i knew i couldn’t fix you

with the tools i had.

[cornerstoner13]

yes. i made you up.

you were a figment of what i wanted you to be. you never existed. just the thought of you did. the only thing you gifted me was cruel clarity to the person you really were.

i’ll spend the rest of my days trying to unlearn the made-up version of you i foolishly created.

June 16, 2025, 12:37 am.

did i make you up?

April 22, 2025, 1:50 am.

[cornerstoner13]

it was a clean cut

yet as soon as you left

the bandage unravelled

and it left me a stained mess

you will walk away

with not even a scratch

but i can still see

the silent blood

splattered on your hands.

it’s over, but i’m left here bleeding out from your knife.

15 June, 2:27 pm

[cornerstoner13]

“The most confused we ever get is when we’re trying to convince our heads of something our heart knows is a lie.”

— Karen Marie Moning

[cornerstoner13]

I will haunt you bitterly from every angle you look and I’m not there.

[cornerstoner13]

a short conversation with my mother, earlier today.

i am not doing well mentally.

why? you must know why.

i don’t know why.

you do everything you want to do.

then why is it never enough?

[cornerstoner13]

i am always just the filler of someone’s void.

june 9th, 10:32 pm

[cornerstoner13]

i’m no good at anything

beside being morose

an uncomfortable familiarity

we sit in silence

and navigate through life

with a knife, she slices steadily,

through my heart

mindful to not make a mess.

i sit and oblige

as if there is nothing i can do

to help myself

i know the moment

i feel an ounce of exultation

it would last the dusk

but not make it through the dawn.

june 5th, 12:13am.

[cornerstoner13]

i long to understand

the deep despair in my bones

in which i was born with

for i cannot grasp the concept

where i am meant to chase happiness

when loneliness

is the only thing that ever seems to find me.

May, (n.d.).

[cornerstoner13]

“These pains you feel are messengers. Listen to them.”

— Rumi

[cornerstoner13]

i’m too much of a lover for some half ass shit

[cornerstoner13]

remember

though you are up, longing for their presence,

they are asleep, admiring your absence.

didn’t you want to make them happy?

2:50 am.

[cornerstoner13]

i’ll be very honest, being loved by someone like me isn’t soft or beautiful or poetic the way people romanticize it. it’s dark. it’s obsessive. it’s a kind of hunger that doesn’t stop once it starts. and the worst part? when you live far from the person you love, the love doesn’t dissolve— it ferments. it festers. the poems stop sounding like love letters and start feeling like screams no one hears. it’s not yearning anymore, it’s erosion. a slow-burning cannibalism of your own self.

because what’s the point of loving someone you can’t touch? can’t reach? can’t whisper things to at 2 am when the world is too quiet and your brain won’t shut up? it just stays trapped. inside you. turns sour. turns sharp. turns cruel. and then it spreads. into your fists. into your teeth. into the corners of your smile. and you carry it around like a curse no one else can see.

it’s fucking miserable being loved by someone like me. because i don’t just love. i collapse. quietly. completely. endlessly.

[cornerstoner13]

wow.

[cornerstoner13]

you are a cinephile

yet you won’t seem to recite

the script you have promised me.

June 1st, 2:37 am.