darlingdelusions

“No One Notices the Quiet”

I keep coming back to the same place,
the one I swore I’d left behind,
taking one step forward,
then losing myself somewhere in my mind.

I get better for a little while—
smile enough to make it believable,
laugh when someone asks if I’m okay,
become everything except miserable.

Because when I’m doing well,
I’m easier to love.
I’m not another problem,
not another weight to pick up.

So I say, “I’m fine.”
And somehow, I become fine
in everyone else’s eyes,
even when I’m falling apart inside.

I’m always there for everyone—
the late-night calls,
the broken hearts,
the “I don't know what to do” moments.
I carry pieces of people
like they're somehow mine to keep.

And nobody asks
who carries me.

Maybe they think
I don't need it.
Maybe I made being strong
look too easy.

But I'm tired.

Tired of being enough
only when I'm useful.
Tired of giving everything
and wondering why nothing remains.

I keep trying to become
someone nobody could leave,
someone nobody could get tired of,
someone worth staying for.

And every time I fail,
I blame myself.

I disappear slowly—
not all at once,
just quieter messages,
fewer laughs,
closed doors,
longer silences.

I wonder if anyone notices
the space I leave behind.

Maybe they do.
Maybe they don't.

That's the cruelest part—
feeling invisible
while desperately wishing
someone would look closely enough
to realize that “I'm okay”
was never the truth.

I'm not asking to be saved.
I'm asking to be seen.

Because underneath the progress,
underneath the smiles,
underneath every “I'm doing better,”
there is still a person
who is exhausted from trying.

And maybe I'm not failing.

Maybe I'm just tired
of surviving every day
like I have something to prove.

Maybe, for once,
I don't need to be enough
for everyone.

Maybe I just need
someone to notice
that I'm still here.

I’m thinking of getting a new piercing well piercing myself again so what piercing should I get next or do next?

i'm sorry but I'm not gonna be on for a little my mental health has been fucked here recently and there is a lot going on soo ya

I miss my boyfriend so much. I feel like I'm not there enough for him, I just hope he knows that I'm always thinking of him and that I love him so much.

Things I Don’t Say Out Loud

I carry storms in pretty skin,
blue eyes full of things I never let begin.
I laugh too loud, I smile on cue,
make it look easy like I’m supposed to do.

But there are nights my chest feels tight,
like even the dark won’t hold me right.
Thoughts spin circles, sharp and fast,
dragging up everything I thought had passed.

I want to be soft, but life made edges,
built me from broken promises and ledges.
So I wear silver, I wear smoke,
I wear confidence like some private joke.

People love the loud parts, not the ache,
the wild side, the risks I take.
They don’t see how tired gets dressed,
how chaos can look like being my best.

I want love that stays when I am hard to know,
when my light burns dim, when I move too slow.
Not hands that leave when I get real,
not hearts that only like what I conceal.

So if I seem distant, sharp, or strange,
it’s just me trying to survive the change.
A girl made of thunder, scars, and art,
learning how to hold her own heart.

I fucking hate work! I recently have been working just so I have some cash for whatever I need if for but its pissing me off because I go to work at 9am my time and don't get back till 2pm or 3pm my time and it fucks me up because now its hard to talk to my boyfriend and I love and miss him so fucking much.

You guys I finally bought a motorcycle!!!

When you realize you have literally never been put first your whole life and your just the person that fills a void in peoples lives until they don't need you anymore. It honestly really fucking hurts.

Sorry if I'm too much sometimes I just get really excited and I don't know how to express myself sometimes.

2 years clean from SH down the drain….

To my boyfriend thank you for saving me from the place I was stuck in, I don’t know what I would do without you, I love you so much❤️

See I was mentally drained too…. You just never cared to notice

You know ever since I was a little girl I was told I was never good enough. I was too loud too weird to energetic, not enough but too much at the same time and yet people wonder why I’m so insecure.

Them "you're still traumatized by your childhood."
Me. "No im not. My childhood didn't affect me."
shuts down when yelled at, remembers nothing but traumatic experiences from childhood, gets attached quickly when given a little bit of attention, bottling up emotions until they explode, trust issues, flinching when someone raises their hands, looking for outlets in negative experiences....

Them "Why are you so insecure? you're literally so pretty!?"
I'm hearing voices all the time, and those voices aren't always all mine.

honestly getting real tired of always being there for people who talk shit and dont care abt me.

People Who Burn It Down

I am the girl with a storm for a heartbeat,
pretty on the outside, ruin stitched underneath.
I laugh loud enough to fool a room,
then go home and sit with the silence
like it owns me.

I give too much.
Pieces of myself like party favors,
handed out to people
who only came for what they could take.
Then I wonder why I feel hollow,
why my chest echoes
when I breathe.

My mind is a house with too many doors—
some locked, some broken,
some hanging loose on rusted hinges.
I pace the hallways of it barefoot,
stepping on the glass
of everything I tried to forget.

I want love
but it never stays gentle.
It always arrives with sharp teeth,
with empty promises,
with hands that know how to leave.
It looks at my scars
and adds to them.

I am soft in dangerous ways.
I trust with open hands,
forgive with shaking fingers,
stay too long where I am starving.

There is nothing wild in me now,
only tired things.
A girl made of smoke and bad habits,
of sleepless nights,
of blue bruises no one can see.

I am trying,
but trying feels like drowning slowly.
Healing sounds like choking
behind locked doors.
I am all sharp edges
and tired eyes.

I keep searching for home
in people who burn it down.