After my grandma died, i started sneaking cigarettes from my dads pack. Sat out back behind the shed, lighting grief on fire just to feel it leave my lungs in pieces. Each inhale was like a permission slip to finally fall apart. Nobody noticed. I was just the quiet one, the moody emotional kid wit...Read more

They say ashes don’t leave footprints, but i hope mine do. Not for fame— just for proof that i burned with intention. That my leaving had shape. I keep a jar on the shelf with matches i never struck. Felt too close to fate. Too eager to ignite. But some nights, i hold them in my hand just to fee...Read more

There’s something about depression that feels like mold. Not dramatic. Just steady. Growing behind the walls where no one can see. Slow, quiet decay until the beams inside you snap like matchsticks. I smile when I’m supposed to. Shake hands. Nod during meetings. Say “I’m good” so automatically, I so...Read more

There’s a certain pitch to loneliness. You only hear it when you’ve run out of lies to tell yourself. It hums, like an empty fridge or an old television left on mute. Not loud, but constant enough to ruin you. I started measuring my silence in decibels. Tracked the hums, the buzzes, the creaks of th...Read more

Don’t hand me a Bible Like it’s a Band-Aid for a bullet wound. I didn’t lose faith. It lost me. Somewhere between my third suicide note And the silence that followed when no one knocked. I begged with blood. And they answered with verses. I screamed into the ceiling for a response ...Read more

P a r t • 2 We water our trauma until it grows roots, Name the weeds after people we used to love, And pretend like the thorns don’t hurt When they wrap around our ribs, each time we try to breathe. You ever watch someone walk away And feel like they took the gravity with them? Now everything ...Read more

P a r t • 1 ____________ I’ve been sleeping in a room with no corners. Because sharp edges make me remember how easy it is to bleed without a knife. How silence can cut deeper than sound. You learn to hold your breath for longer than necessary when screaming starts to feel like begging. And...Read more

Grief doesn’t knock anymore. It has a key. It slips in while I’m laughing. And sits quietly until the smile dies. I carry it in my posture. Hunched shoulders that remember. What it’s like to hold everything and still drop it. I’ve lost people who didn’t die. They just faded, Like a song you lo...Read more

Desire used to be a fire in my chest. Now it’s a flicker I can’t even name. I watch people chase love, purpose, beauty— And I just… Watch. There’s nothing pulling me forward anymore. No dreams. No hunger. Just routine And a body too stubborn to shut down. People ask what I’m looking forward to. I sa...Read more

My laugh, they say, is infectious. A bright, familiar sound that fills the room. But no one ever asks what it costs to produce, What type of hollow ache it creates and leaves behind my ribs each and e...Read more

Part. 1 Not every suicide is a headline. Some are whispers, stretched over years. Like forgetting to eat, again. Like letting the voicemail box stay full. Because you can’t bear to hear your name. Like declining invitations until... They just stop coming. Some suicides don’t end in blood. ...Read more