The Diary of The Deranged Writer
Where fiction meets reality, between light, darkness and absurdity.
Reach out to you, then you don’t answer
Elated about life, then not share my joy
Pointless to keep up with this ignorance
Leaving alone with my thoughts because
You don’t want to reach back for me
Reply (Poetry Series): I, II, III
Header image: Yaroslava Borz of Pexels. Edited in Adobe Photoshop 2026.
It breaks my heart that I don’t have hers
But what’s worse than this incredible ache?
Seeing her break down after burning out
It breaks my heart that she doesn’t love me
But what’s worse than not being loved back?
Her loss of passion and reason to keep going
It breaks my heart that we will never kiss
But what’s worse than our lips not touching?
Her being numb after life keeps hurting her
It breaks my heart, we’ll never be together
But what’s worse than my worst heartbreak?
Erasing our dear friendship from existence
I’d rather carry the worst heartbreak ever
And still offer her a shoulder to cry on
Her kind soul needs a cleansing catharsis
I’d rather carry the worst heartbreak ever
And also the burden that is on her shoulders
She is never alone, even during her battles
I’d rather carry the worst heartbreak ever
And keeping choosing her joy, day and night
Even if that means she chooses someone else
I’d rather carry my worst heartbreak ever
Her sweetest smile is still worth the hurt
And her heartbreak matters more than mine
Header image: Marek Studzinski of Unsplash. Edited in Adobe Photoshop 2026.
Shelter from reality, brooding in my throne
In goes the black kettle, buzzing with steam
Now I’ll grab a cup of tea blessed by angels
Glorious, comforting warmth, here I come
Sing (Poetry Series): I, II, III
Header image: Daniel Pratt of Pexels. Edited in Adobe Photoshop 2026.
