Backyard

Agree you're the best creation god has ever made

I didn't learned when I was child I love to make lines rhyme, I don't think that I'm good or bad it's just part of my hobbies

True, divine art by god

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Ummm Like for a musician the greatest form art is music, for a painter it's painting,for a writer it's literature The greatest form of art, to me, is the one that makes you feel something you can’t explain—the kind that lingers, disturbs, heals, or awakens. It could be a single line of poetry, a silent glance in a film, a brushstroke on an empty canvas, or even a pause in music. But if I had to choose, I'd say: The art of honest expression—regardless of the medium—is the highest form. Because truth, when dressed in beauty or chaos, speaks directly to the soul.

she smelled like rain on burnt books a contradiction in every glance, sweet and scorched. i should’ve known— you can’t love someone made of unfinished apologies

she smelled like rain on burnt books a contradiction in every glance, sweet and scorched. i should’ve known— you can’t love someone made of unfinished apologies

“Teeth in the Teacup” I poured my thoughts into a porcelain cup, but it cracked— spilling dreams that tasted like static and honey. The spoons laughed, twisting their metal necks in protest. My shadow climbed the wall and whispered, “You're not awake, just cleverly disguised.” The clock licked its lips. Time wasn’t passing— it was pacing. And I sipped the sky, found a tooth in my tea, and still said, “Ah. Just the right amount of madness.” ~ master

They said touch grass, So I whispered to the leaves. They told me my thoughts were too loud and my soul was on speakerphone. #thoughts #short

Looks good? 👁👁?

when someone asks me what do i want and i cant say "a lonely walk in a abandoned graveyard on a cloudy evening" so i just say mm pizza maybe

Why do I feel like a guest in a life I was supposed to design? ~ master

"When My Mind Forgot to Sleep" I walked into a thought and forgot how to leave— the walls were made of whispering clocks and time begged me to breathe. A spider taught me philosophy on a thread between maybe and no, while stars fell like quiet confessions into a cup I didn’t know I held. My feet forgot gravity, my name turned into a color, and somewhere between blink and blink, the moon nodded like she understood. I asked the silence for answers— it replied with a dream I hadn’t dreamed yet. — master...

I high-fived my reflection today— felt fake, but we both needed it. Later, I caught my shadow practicing empathy. We’re all healing, just weirdly.

A star winked at me mid-breakdown. I blushed and pretended I was fine. Turns out the cosmos does gossip— Saturn knows everything. #brainrotpoetry

The clock hiccuped, and I was five again, Wearing socks on my hands, fighting rain. Someone said this was growing up, But I just wanted cereal in a teacup. — master...

I peeled the sky back looking for peace. Found static and an old voicemail that sounded like me.

I peeled the sky back looking for peace. Found static and an old voicemail that sounded like me. Want more in a similar tone — maybe even darker, surreal, or humorous? — master