Through the Fog

Tag: writing

  • Choking on Words

    I’m choking on words

    I should have never thought of—

    the kind that burn going down

    and linger in the chest

    long after the moment’s gone.

    I’ve swallowed too many truths

    just to keep the peace,

    bit my tongue until it bled

    trying not to say your name.

    Some thoughts were never meant to be spoken,

    but they still echo—

    hollow and loud,

    like ghosts in an empty room.

    If you could see inside my mind,

    you’d find all the things

    I wish I’d never felt—

    and all the things

    I still do.

    So I breathe around the ache,

    let silence become my apology.

    Some words destroy when spoken,

    others destroy when kept.

    Either way,

    I’m still choking.

  • Once… She Wrote a Poem

    Photo Credit: Nik

    Once, she wrote a poem.

    Not for love,

    not for beauty,

    but because the ache inside her

    needed somewhere to go.

    She didn’t write to be understood—

    she wrote to stay alive.

    Each word a pulse,

    each line a breath she wasn’t sure she’d take otherwise.

    The paper never judged her.

    It didn’t tell her to move on

    or to smile more.

    It just listened

    and held her pain like it mattered.

    She wrote about the ghosts she carried,

    the nights that wouldn’t end,

    the kind of loneliness

    that made her forget her own name.

    And when she finished,

    she didn’t feel healed—

    but she felt seen.

    Even if only by the page.

    Now, when she looks back,

    she doesn’t just see ink—

    she sees survival.

    She sees a girl

    who refused to let silence

    be the last word.

    Once, she wrote a poem.

    And maybe that was the moment

    she began to come back to life.