Design a site like this with
Get started

From the Park We Used to See

Last week I stood overlooking the empty, dull, and desolate plains from the lonely park on the side of the mountain

Then we started talking again

It was just a small conversation

Yet it seemed to fix every broken part of me

The bland grass stood tall and green again

I could feel the yellow sun’s warmth again

Color seemed to flow back into my life, freeing my soul and unlocking my appreciation for the world

I revisited the places we would go, and eat foods we used to enjoy

Everything seems to fit so well together now, but I still feel like I don’t belong

A piece of me is missing

And I don’t think I can fix it alone

I need help

Your help

I miss the sweet, soft taste of your lips

I miss the way you would lift your chin up, close your eyes, and laugh as if there wasn’t a care in the world

But now I sit here

Overlooking the same plains from the same park

But I can see the blessings of the simple field we used to play in, and the color of the swings we used to sit on came back recently

Everything feels surreal and unnatural without you

I was lost in your boundless joy, and I don’t know where to go now that I’ve only just grasped the tip again


Last Breaths

Xander breathed heavily as his helmet was removed. The toxic air tore at his throat as he gazed at the horizon, taking in the beauty of the sunrise. Funny how he could experience such pain, but still find the beauty in life. Kvothe would be proud. After all, she was the one who showed Xander love for the first time.





The stupid artificial intelligence never worked anyway. What was the point of keeping it on? All it could do was scan your vitals, it didn’t even have a GPS for them to find what would remain of his corpse.

The toxic atmosphere would take a few minutes to silence Xander for the final time, and it would be the most painful minutes of his life. But he was fine with that. He finished his mission, and the information about this new planet would save thousands of lives. He wanted to die while known as “Xander, the Forgotten Hero”. No one could possibly know he was the one who sent the files, his files, to the CORE.

“Xands!” A familiar voice exclaimed, rivalling angels for their celestial voices.

Xander turned, in shock. No one called him that, with the exception of one.

“Kvothe?” He said in utter disbelief. He looked back to see a tall, slender woman in her late 20’s standing behind him, auburn hair flowing in the acidic wind. She smiled happily at him with those onyx-black eyes of hers, which seemed to calm his soul. He came to this planet to find the source of Dinthral’s power, but he had hoped to find her the moment she went missing.

“Who else would be foolish enough to approach you while you were thinking!” She said playfully, uncovering Xander’s past memories like a cold shower, sending shivers to every corner of his body. The pain from the poisoned air set in tenfold. He winced, and set his hand out to balance on the stony shore, or what was left of the shore.

“It’s all going to be alright, I’ll always be here for you” Kvothe said with her soft and true voice, as she sat down next to Xander and set her hand on top of his. Her hand seemed to take all the pain away, and Kvothe faded away as the world went black.

The Old Man and His Bench

The chill of the autumn wind brushed past his neck, sending chills through the entirety of his body. The man didn’t seem to notice, or he at least did his best not to shiver. He was sitting on the most valuable bench in the world, at least in the aging man’s mind.

There wasn’t anything special about this bench to anyone else. It wasn’t made of gold and lined with gems. It wasn’t in a special one of a kind place, and it definitely wasn’t comfortable. The frozen metal imitated wood as it grasped at his over hanging coat. Perspiration dripped off the bench, freezing before it touched the ground.

All the bearded man did was sit.

He wasn’t sad that he was alone; in fact, he was brought joy through the first memories he shared with the bench. It all started from his first date. Oh, how innocent he was. His teenage self joking about becoming the dictator of America, only to end up scheming for how to make those moments last forever.

His thoughts kept drifting in and out, slowly and calmly, like the ocean after sun-down. He soon remembered why he came there in the first place. It could have been his anniversary today, celebrating 60 years. He made a plan in his late 20’s to propose at this specific bench, but of course none of his plans worked. He should have known he couldn’t have been good enough at the time, but she ended up leaving him for his best friend.

The elder sat, hoping that one day he could realize what he did wrong. Was he meant to be alone? Or maybe he put his faith in the wrong person. However, he never regretted any choice he made while he was with her.

He cherished the moments he spent, knowing that she had already forgotten about him.

Under the Blossom Tree

through out my years, i’ve done nothing.

i haven’t created anything meaningful

i haven’t helped anyone escape from the abyss i go through every day

i haven’t been able to even do simple tasks right

you would think that after working for 12 hours a day every single day that i would learn how to do my jobs right. but that’s not how it works for me. i still got fired

maybe one day i’ll fix myself

maybe one day i’ll be good enough

and maybe one day i’ll realize what i did wrong to her

but maybe i’m being too optimistic

maybe i can’t change the past

so maybe next time i’ll take the shot to change the future. my future

but now i’m burnt out

i am exhausted

i am lazy

i am feckless

i am idle

and most importantly, i am me

that may mean nothing, but i hope that one day it will mean the world to someone

i hope that i can change people for the better

i hope that i can get over the past

i hope i can get over the current

and i hope i can be able to prep for the future, whatever that may bring

but as for now, i’ll be resting under the protection and peace of my Blossoming Tree. come pay a visit sometime, it would be nice to talk to you, and i hope to get to know you better.

i’ll be waiting

The Interpretation of the Intro to a Side Character

“yeah, you can call me Loverboy”

“they say i throw my heart around”

first things first, i’m the kinda guy that leaves the oven on so i don’t have to preheat it constantly. what’s wrong with improvising or simply being efficient?

i could’ve left that as my introduction, and i probably should to save you time. im not worth knowing, let alone someone most people care to learn more about. im a side character, after all.

although i don’t know exactly why i chose this pen name, or why i even bothered to write this in the first place, ill put in an ample amount of effort so i can get something out of this. i don’t know why i do anything, nor why anything bad happens to me. the only thing i know for sure is that this title feels relatable. i don’t know why, but ig we’ll find out together. i have a few guesses, but it’s shocking how much i don’t know myself. but one thing i do know is i have very few opinions of anything. favorite food? costa vida or the other one (idek what the other one is called, i just want sweet pulled pork)? the only thing i will defend is this:

hero’s are stupid

villains are too important

and this was going to be a haiku but i got lazy :|i feel like most people will call me pessimistic for calling hero’s “stupid” but i don’t mean it like that. i meant that they are overrated and everyone feels like they need one. that point of view didn’t really fit in the half-haiku i tried to do, but there is my opinion. do hero’s really help humans in general? or do people idolize hero’s to the point they can’t see their flaws? do you actually need a role model? i’m not going to answer my questions, so get used to that if you decide to continue reading.

idek why i don’t answer my questions, so feel free to call me lazy. although it feels more like i don’t care enough to defend my answer, so why try?

but now ill finish what i was saying about villains. they always get a bad rep (most of the time). just look at hades. my guy has the best hair to exist, and disney still messed up his story. villains are just other humans that get misunderstood for their methods or thoughts, but not one person deserves to be called a villain. also, every story i’ve read without an awesome villain has been worthless. what good does a story have if nothing exciting ever happens? because what does that make you if people don’t understand why you do what you do? what makes you so much better than them? why can’t they be the good guy?

ill usually try to keep a neutral perspective on everything, and i do my best to see things from other peoples perspectives. except for hotdogs. they are tacos.

i don’t know that you expected from me, but one thing is for sure: i’m not nearly as dedicated, hard working, smart, or talented as anybody else, and im not planning on ever being as good as the person next to me. after all, i’m often referred to as awkward, lonely, depressed, and lazy, but im fine with those labels. after all, they are only labels a few people see me as. they might be true, but i can do my best to accept myself.

this isn’t much of an intro, and it may not have been poetry like most other people have done, but it’s still me. its still the broken teenager i am, but i want to be proud of that eventually.