ndlezz

[ndlezz]

I can’t stop thinking.

I think about everything, all the time, and I don’t know how to stop it. It exhausts me. I spend hours of my life thinking about whether the way I breathe is right, if I blinked too many times, or if my clothes are folded the right way. Hours of my life where I’m not really present, where I don’t exist. I’m here, but not mentally. I survive, but I don’t live. I stay in my mind, and it’s the only place where I feel safe and like myself, because I’m alone and I can be anywhere, be anyone.

I hate this feeling and not knowing its name. Every day I’m in the same position, walking the same street, following the same path because, for some reason, my brain doesn’t allow me to cross the street and choose a different way. I can do it, but I don’t allow myself to. It scares me and holds me back from doing what I actually want to do, but I don’t know why it happens or what exactly is keeping me stuck.

I always think no one understands me, but the truth is, I don’t even understand myself. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what’s happening to me. People ask, and I don’t have an answer. They expect something from me that even I can’t give myself.

I feel trapped inside myself and I don’t know what to do to get out. Why do I do this to myself? I don’t know who could give me the answer. It should be me, but I don’t have it. I don’t know how or where to find it. I question myself every day, but I’m still lost, still stuck with the same questions.

I don’t let myself feel. I don’t allow myself to be sad or happy. I feel like it’s unfair to say I feel invisible, that I go through things nobody understands, and then still be seen laughing like nothing happened. I can’t do that. It feels selfish.

I don’t understand why I invalidate myself, why I treat myself this way. Why is it so hard to love myself? Why is it so hard to understand myself and treat myself well? I don’t know why I expect everyone else to treat me the way I want, the right way, if I can’t even do it myself.

I want to be okay. That’s what I want the most. But my screams aren’t heard. I make noise in an empty forest, with no one around. But the noise is still there. Even if only I hear it, the hope remains—that maybe someone or something will come, hear me, see me. And I hold on to that, to the false promise that someone will arrive and pull me out of this vicious cycle that is my mind.

[ndlezz]

identity

In the dark, my mind is a roiling sea, its waves breaking on the shores of logic, leaving nothing but debris. I am a tree falling without sound, a thought without substance, floating— I am not here, I am nowhere, no one.

I am not my body, I am the things it does, the things it feels but does not claim. I punish it, the skin that holds me, the bones that betray me— for the things it does in the light, for the person it tries to be.

[ndlezz]

Just letting you know your poetry is better than mine probably will ever be. There's a certain elegance to it. I hope you feel a bit better soon!

oh my goodness, thank you so much! I wish this wasn't anonymous so I could know who you are and read what you write because I'm sure you're an amazing writer.

Thank you for observing my writings, I appreciate it so so much!! 🤍

[ndlezz]

im really in need of writing advice, i need honest criticism and alll that stuff😪help

[ndlezz]

I love you.

and I just want to be like this, with the soothing melody of your breath pulling me into the peace I’ve been searching for, the breeze of your eyes fluttering, and the thumping of your heart resonating in my ears, filling me with something I’ve never felt before. I want to melt into you, to sink in like ink on paper that tells a story my lips can’t speak.

Every line of your skin, every almost imperceptible hair, every detail that from afar would go unnoticed—but when we’re skin to skin, I feel them, and they send shivers through my soul. They scramble my thoughts, creating a new kind of peace that fills me completely and spills over, all the love within me, too much for my body to hold, so I let it escape, watching it flow like time itself or the movement of your hair in the wind.

And it dazzles me, the glow of your eyes when the sun finds them, wrapping me in warmth I could only find in your arms. I just want to look at you, lose myself in that honey-colored light, so sweet yet mysterious, pulling me in and driving me wild.

Maybe love is this madness, this indescribable feeling that’s as vast as the universe itself. I see it in your gaze—a universe others spend their lives searching for, but it’s here, right in front of me. The most beautiful thing my eyes could ever fall on.

And that’s love—seeing your scars, your freckles, every detail of your skin, your soul, every thought that rests in your mind, opening doors to unknown parts of you. and it’s hearing your words, words born from your lips meant and thought only for me, every second spent with you, wanting it to last forever, a forever I’m ready to embrace.

In that empty void, where the only thing that keeps me company is the sound of your voice and the sensation of your touch on every inch of me, I realize what this is. It’s everything. I’ve never felt this much power, this much admiration, this much fortune—until the bullet of your love finally struck me. I no longer have to play this roulette, waiting for my turn. I’ve found it. I have you.

[ndlezz]

I can't speak.

I don’t know and I don’t understand. I can't forgive you, but I also can't live hating you.

I can't process the damage you caused me, how your actions changed me, my person, without me wanting it. You turned me into someone I didn’t choose to be, I'm a reflection of your mistakes, a creation of your actions that left a void in me—one I’ll never fill, an insatiable pain. A permanent mark and a daily reminder every time I see your face, that it wasn’t my fault, but still, I can’t do anything about it. You’ll always be just another person, with a clean conscience, while mine is stained for life by something I didn’t choose. Something I couldn’t understand then, and maybe never will.

Sometimes I wonder if speaking would change anything. If this mark will ever fade. Will I ever feel free, like I can fly without my wings being tied down? Your gaze takes me back to that room, where my skin felt cold, where your permanent ink stained my flesh. I shower every day, but I still carry that scent from back then—the place where it felt okay, or so I thought. The place where I didn’t understand, but still allowed it.

Did I forgive you? I don’t know. I’ll never know. I lock it away in the deepest parts of me, trying to forget it, trying to bury it because I still don’t understand it. So much time has passed, and I wonder if it’s worth revisiting the past, if remembering is foolish, as if repeating that scene in my head every night could somehow heal me.

Your eyes—every time I see them, they open that portal to the torment of that day, your words silencing me.

I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what would have happened if things had been different, and trying to figure it out is pointless. I’ll never know. You took away the chance for me to know. You left me in an endless maze I’ll never escape, because there you are, at the exit, showing me just how vulnerable I am, how I’ll never make it out.

I’m stuck in the past, while you move on. Am I the only one? Do you even remember? Does it even matter to you? I’m just another grain of sand in your desert. You might remember how each grain came to be, but not mine. You ignore it, never mention it, block it out, erase it. But it’s still there. No matter how much you try to forget, it’s still there, and deep down, you know it.

It’s hard to hate you. Maybe it wasn’t your fault either. But why does there need to be a culprit? Did you even know what you were doing? I wonder, I try to understand, to see the why and the how, but I’ll never know. Talking about it doesn’t matter anymore. Trying to explain it doesn’t help. It’s an old page that holds no value in the present.

I’ll never know. I’ll never understand. No matter how hard I try, I can’t calm the chaos you left in my mind.

[ndlezz]

It's hard to explain how. I feel empty, like I'm not really here—just someone who exists but isn't anything.

I get a lump in my throat every time I think about it, every time I see it from a different angle.

Going out, seeing everyone else, trying to hold back the tears—it’s exhausting. I'm so tired of feeling this way, of having no one there for me, of feeling invisible. I'm not a part of my own life, and I'm not a part of theirs.

I'm not part of anything. I'm nothing.

I hate having this indescribable feeling, not knowing what’s making me feel this way. Something I don’t even understand is ruining me, and I can’t stop it.

I can't explain my thoughts. No words seem to describe what I want to say, how I feel. I want to say so much, but I just can't—the words won't come out. It's like my thoughts suffocate me. I'm being drowned by my own words and feelings, I can't breathe. I try to gasp for air, to get up, but nothing works. It's pushing me even deeper. Every day, every moment, pulls me further down, and I realize I'm alone. It's just me. No one's around. There isn’t a hand to help me, to pull me out of this. I have to do it myself. I'm floating in the ocean of my own tortured mind, suffocated by it. Everything is infinite, and I don’t see an escape, an exit. Is this really how I will end up? Is this how it’s always going to be? I’m living in my own prison, but I don’t seem to know the path to leaving it.

My mind is eating me inside out, I just can't stop it. The more I think about it, the worse it gets. It's an echo, it leaves but comes back, and it just keeps repeating itself over and over, making me think it stopped, it went away, but it didn’t. It’s always there, hiding. It’s a disease, it’s killing me, but I don’t know what it is, and I’m a prisoner of it.

[ndlezz]

everything around me has grown up—my age, my friends, my mind, my thoughts. Every single thing. But somehow, I’m still stuck in that little girl’s world, that little girl’s fantasy. My soul still feels like hers, like the girl who had big dreams, who believed in everything. But I’m not her anymore. I don’t know who I am now. And its hard to accept it.

i have to act like someone I don’t even feel connected to. moving on feels impossible, like I’m being forced into a version of myself that doesn’t fit.

who am I? everyone else seems to know. Everyone else has grown, changed, become something more. But I haven’t. Or maybe I have, and I just can’t feel it. I hate this feeling—like I’m the only one still stuck in the past, the only one who didn’t move forward. It’s like I’m split into two people, but neither of them feels real. Neither of them feels like me.

[ndlezz]

I think one of the ways to know you're alive is by people noticing you.

I don’t feel noticed—not by family, not by friends, not by anyone.

I don’t feel present. I don’t feel like I’m here. It feels so weird to feel so alone while being surrounded by people at the same time.

I don’t feel heard or seen by anyone, not even the people who say they will.

I don’t talk to people, and when I do, it doesn’t feel any different. It’s like I’m never really there. I’m the only one who knows about me, the only one who knows what’s going on with me. I’m the one who speaks, and I’m the one who listens. I have to give myself advice because no one else will.

every time people talk to me, it’s to ask for advice, to get help with something, or to tell me I should change. They only point out my flaws—even ones I never noticed before.

I’m silent, but I also can’t stop speaking. I have so many words, but no one to hear them.

So many thoughts, so much to say, but the only person who listens is me.

Sometimes I wonder—if I ever disappeared, would it make any difference?

[ndlezz]

life is so crazy man. i was just thinking about how im spending my life alone, full of fear, and afraid to do stuff because of what people might say. and honestly, it’s so stupid to think like that. we’re all gonna die one day—maybe I’ll die tomorrow, but who knows? no one’s gonna remember you for your embarrassing moments. no one’s gonna remember in 20 years that you fell on the stairs at school, that you said something dumb, or that you accidentally called your teacher “mom.”

stop being afraid of showing who you are. stop being afraid of showing what you like. you’re depriving yourself of so many great things just because you’re scared of what someone might say. you need to let yourself be free. you need to enjoy life and all the moments it gives you. you need to explore and do everything you can to live life to the fullest.

everybody has embarrassing moments. Its part of life. everyone gets embarrassed. you’re not the only one. everyone is scared of doing things they’re not used to, but that’s what makes it awesome. you’re putting yourself outside your comfort zone, experiencing new things, and that’s amazing. you get to discover new things that you may love—or maybe not! but you’ll never know if you don’t try.

one day, you’re gonna get older and look back. what are you going to see? that you spent all your days in your room, alone, afraid of being yourself and trying new things just because you thought someone might say something about it? or do you want to look back and remember all those fun, amazing memories—where you were happy, where you were you, where you didn’t care about people’s opinions and were truly free?

one day, you’re gonna have your own life—maybe even your own family, maybe kids (if you want them). i dont know who knows? if you have kids, they’re gonna want to know what you did when you were younger, to hear your stories. and if you stay stuck in this mindset—that everything is embarrassing, that people are always judging you—you’re not gonna have anything to tell them. they’re not gonna be excited to hear that you just stood on the sidelines, watching while other people actually lived their lives.

it might seem hard to overcome your fear of being judged—i know. but it’s so much more freeing and better to just let go of that fear, to pretend you don’t care, and to live your life. because in the end, no one really cares. no one’s gonna remember that embarrassing moment forever. you’re just another person in the crowd. you’re not THAT important that people will remember every awkward thing you’ve ever done for the rest of their lives.

just live, do whatever you want. no one cares.