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footsteps from the past

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the failure

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to my dear mother

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Conditional Love

Love was something I had to earn,

With every task, with every turn.

It wasn’t there in simple things,

But in the weight that effort brings.

A grade, a favor, a quiet plea,

For just a little love, from you to me.

I scrubbed the floors, I cleaned the room,

Hoping it would break the gloom.

I emptied the dishwasher, tried to smile,

But I hadn’t felt your love in a while.

I held my brother when he cried,

While downstairs, anger amplified.

Tried to shield him from the noise,

Hiding his tears with all his toys.

Kept him safe, kept him sound,

While the chaos spun around.

I stood between the rising screams,

While downstairs shattered all my dreams.

I held my breath, cleared the plates,

Hoping to change my mother’s fate.

The harder the task, the deeper the pain,

The more I thought I’d earn again.

But no matter the tears, the cost I paid,

The love was fleeting, the warmth decayed.

For every scar, for every tear,

The praise was brief, and never near

Enough to heal the wounds I wore,

The price was high, but never more.

You said you’d never be like this,

That your love wouldn’t be hit or miss.

But the walls you built, the chains you cast,

Were echoes of your own dark past.

Though you said you never wanted to be,

You became the thing that tortured me.

Each act, a bid, a silent plea,

To make you proud, to notice me.

I gave and gave, but it was clear,

That love for me was never near,

Unless I’d earned it, paid the price,

In tasks, in tears, in sacrifice.

[lunacomesfromlunatic]

D.W. Winnicott

[lunacomesfromlunatic]

Some days, I lie still,

watching the world move,

while I stay frozen in place.

The laughter, the life outside—

it feels so distant,

like it belongs to someone else.

I live in my head,

thinking about what could have been,

what I could have been,

if things had gone another way.

I imagine disappearing for a while,

to escape the noise inside,

and the weight of what I’ll never know.

But I remain here,

as the world keeps spinning,

and I’m left watching from the edges,

trapped between who I am

and who I could have been.

————————————————————

fading slowly

[lunacomesfromlunatic]

through your eyes

I watch your gaze slip far from mine,

To bodies shaped in flawless line.

Hair of gold, or raven black,

I see the beauty that I lack.

You tell me I’m the one you love,

That I’m enough, that I’m enough.

Yet still, you turn to glowing screens,

To faces that haunt all my dreams.

I question if my skin’s too rough,

If I’m too plain, if I’m enough.

My body, hair, my very face,

Feels fragile, out of place.

But I’m the one you touch, you hold,

Not them—their beauty’s bought, not bold.

You tell me I’m your perfect view,

But still, I watch you look right through.

You scroll through bodies bare and bright,

While I stand here, a fading light.

They’re on your screen, I’m in your bed,

But shame keeps running through my head.

I ask myself, do I compare?

To what you find when you are there?

You say I’m all you’ll ever need,

But I wonder if it’s true, indeed.

The shame it rises, thick and slow,

I feel it deep, but never show.

I’m here, I’m real, I feel your touch,

Yet still, it doesn’t seem enough.

[lunacomesfromlunatic]

through the flames

They see the smile, the girl who drinks,

But not the weight beneath that sinks.

A party life, a carefree face,

But no one sees the darker place.

The weight I carry deep inside,

Is something I’ve learned to hide.

Since my youth, I’ve walked this way,

Trying to keep the dark at bay.

But in my haze, I’ve pushed away

The ones who cared, the ones who’d stay.

I feel too much, yet nothing at all,

No tears to shed when I start to fall.

I laugh too loud, I dance too late,

But this is the only way I navigate.

They call me fun, they call me wild,

But I’m just a broken child.

I drown in moments I can’t control,

Hoping to fill a deeper hole.

I push too far, I reach too fast,

Chasing a peace that never lasts.

I burn, I fall, I break, I run,

In search of calm that never comes.

They see the party, not the fight,

The girl who drifts away at night.

I cannot cry, I cannot cope,

This is my tether, this is my rope.

Through the flames, I walk alone,

In a journey that’s all I’ve known.

[lunacomesfromlunatic]

the underrated pain of falling out of love

There is a silence that grows louder each day,

A heaviness in every "I love you"

That once flowed so effortlessly.

Now, the words catch in my throat,

Like stones I cannot swallow.

Each touch feels colder,

Each embrace an act of memory,

A shadow of the warmth that once filled me.

I pretend, because pretending is easier than breaking you.

I still reach for your hand,

But my fingers no longer hold on like they used to.

I still smile when you speak,

But my heart is distant,

And I wonder if you can feel it—

This quiet withdrawal of love,

This slow unraveling of what we once had.

The truth comes like a storm,

But I’m still standing in the calm before it hits.

I know I am hurting you,

Every moment I stay,

Every lie I tell with my silence.

Yet I can’t leave,

Not yet,

Because the habit of us is still too strong,

The memory of us still lingers,

And I am not ready to let go.

But the moment will come.

The moment when I must face you,

Look into your eyes

And tear your world apart.

To admit that the love you’ve held so tightly

Has slipped through my fingers.

To tell you that the warmth is gone,

And all that remains is this cold, distant affection

That neither of us deserves.

The hardest part of love

Is knowing when to end it.

To see the pain you will cause,

And cause it anyway.

Because to stay would be cruel,

A slow bleeding of everything we once were.

And so, I have to let you go,

Even if it tears us both apart.

[lunacomesfromlunatic]

In the shadow of my younger brother

I cleaned the house,

Wiped the dust from every shelf,

But you only saw his sparkle,

Never the pain within myself.

I scrubbed the dishes,

Worked until my fingers bled,

But all you ever noticed

Was the crown upon his head.

I tried to fix what was broken,

But you only saw my flaws,

While his mistakes were gentle whispers,

Wrapped in love without a pause.

I was crumbling, barely standing,

Yet you called me a disgrace,

While he, in all his glory,

Stood untouchable in his place.

Every day I fought to breathe,

To survive the weight of you,

But no matter how much I gave,

I was never worth what he could do.

I stumbled through my darkest days,

But you only saw my fall,

While he was praised for little things,

And I was left with nothing at all.

I broke myself into quiet pieces,

Hoping you'd notice the cost,

But you looked past my shattered soul,

Drawn to the light I had lost.

Still, I loved him through the pain,

Though I carried the weight of being unseen,

And in your shadow, I was left to wonder,

What more could I have been?

[lunacomesfromlunatic]

Growing Up in a War Zone

I grew up in a house of war,

Where battles raged behind each door.

I stood between the fire and ice,

Hoping I could calm the strife,

To be the shield, to hold them still,

A child too small, without the will

To fight the fights that weren’t mine,

Yet always caught on the front line.

I listened as their tempers flared,

Both sides angry, both sides scared.

Pulled into battles I didn’t choose,

No matter what, I’d always lose.

And when I gave too much to one,

The other’s love would come undone.

Ignored, punished, cast aside,

For wounds that never were mine to hide.

Their words too heavy, too much to bear,

And I held them all without a care

For the weight that crushed me down,

My own pain lost, without a sound.

I pushed my feelings far away,

Hoping the storm would end someday.

But peace was something I never knew,

In a house where fury only grew.

I learned to live with fear inside,

That love could break or would divide.

Now I walk through my life prepared,

For every battle, I’m feeling scared.

For when you grow up in a house of war,

You think that love is nothing more.

Now I seek the fight in every touch,

Confusing war with what I want.

For peace feels foreign, strange, unknown,

But battlefields feel just like home.