Author: b-side junkie

Smells like blueberries and…

you arrive in the hours

when the moon forgets its name,

moving like a quiet thought

I never learned

to tame.

you touch me like a memory

still trying to exist,

a borrowed breath of something

I was never meant

to miss.

your hands whisper warmth

in a language half-awake,

a promise made of trembling

that dawn will always

break.

you leave as the light

starts softening the air—

some truths only bloom

in the dark

we share.

and I stay in the afterglow,

where your absence feels deep,

counting the shadows

your leaving

still

keeps.

I reach for the quiet

you leave in my room,

the space shaped like longing

that flowers

in gloom.

there’s a softness you carry

that my daylight won’t see,

a tenderness you offer

then take

back

from me.

and every time you vanish

before morning is through,

I’m left wanting the version

of you

that wants

me

too

you come in the hours

when the world forgets sound,

your touch like a secret

that barely feels

found.

you breathe on my shoulder

like a half-written vow,

a moment that trembles

but never learns

how.

you leave with the night

before truth can appear—

some hearts only bloom

when no daylight

is near.

and I lie in the hush

where your warmth used to be,

wanting the part of you

you never

gave

me.

I kept a little clock

on the far side of my shelf—

the kind that ticks politely

and never calls attention

to itself.

It came with a tiny key

meant to wind its quiet heart,

but the person who owned it

never bothered

to start.

They always said they’d fix it

“when things finally calm down,”

as if time waits politely

for anyone

in town.

So the clock sat still

in a dignified freeze—

like a butler abandoned

at a long-canceled

tea.

It practiced keeping rhythm

even though it couldn’t move,

trying to prove

(again and again)

that it had something

to prove.

It polished its own brass face

with a stubborn, lonely shine,

murmuring to the silence,

“One day… someone

will call me

mine.”

But days slipped by

in the way days do—

quiet, careless,

unaware

they’re being cruel.

Dust gathered like gossip

around its frozen grin,

and the clock thought,

“Strange…

I’m here,

but I’m not

let in.”

Then one soft morning,

a visitor strolling through

noticed how the clock

still gleamed

like something

true.

They lifted it gently—

the care was almost art—

and wound the little key

straight into

its start.

The gears woke gasping

like someone who forgot

how good it feels

to matter

in a place

you’re not.

And time began again—

not loudly,

not bold—

just a steady, grateful heartbeat

in a room

that wasn’t cold.

Back on the old shelf,

its absence made a hush—

not dramatic,

just a pause

that made the air

go still

and blush.

The former owner blinked at it,

confused by the new space,

feeling something hollow

slip across

their face.

They muttered,

“Odd…

I didn’t realize

you just needed

to be wound.”

But clocks remember touch—

the kind that’s

finally

found.

And regret?

It ticks quietly

in the corners

of the mind—

the sound of chances wasted

by someone

who didn’t

find

the time

I had tea with the universe late last night,

it said, “Kid, your chaos is looking alright.”

So I tightened my shoelace of questionable fate,

and strolled past tomorrow — already running late.

A pigeon in glasses whispered, “Time is a trick,”

then lectured a lamppost on not glowing too quick.

I nodded politely; I love bird intellect,

even when none of their facts reconnect.

My shadow was drunk and confessed it was bored,

said it wanted a raise or at least an award.

I told it to chill, take a nap, take a breath—

it fainted dramatically, playing dead (not death).

A fortune cookie warned me, “Don’t follow the rules,”

but I dropped it in tea because I’m nobody’s fool.

Besides, every omen is drenched in cliché,

so I rinse mine with humor and call it gourmet.

Then the moon slid down softly to straighten my crown,

said, “Your glow’s gotten crooked from carrying doubt around.”

So I laughed till it echoed in rooftops and bone—

funny how courage returns when you’re left alone.

And the moral (disguised like a thrift-store coat):

Life’s a storm, yes—but you still stay afloat

by dancing with nonsense, by loving the weird,

by rhyming through moments that once felt feared.

So trust every odd thing that knocks at your door—

the cosmos speaks riddles

so we listen

more.

Casper Wyoming.

🚩 

Major Red Flags

• Lies — even little ones.
• Hot one day, cold the next.
• Hides phone or won’t let you near it
• Never takes blame for anything.
• Only wants to hang out late or in private.
• Avoids talking about the future.
• You’ve never met their friends or family.
• Disappears when things get serious.
• Makes you feel guilty for having needs.
• .Subtle disrespect masked as humor
• “Jokes” that make you uncomfortable.
• Backhanded compliments (“You’re not like other girls”).
  👉 Early boundary testing = future boundary breaking.
• You feel like you have to prove you’re chill. You minimize your needs to keep the peace. You start performing “cool girl” energy. If peace depends on silence, it’s not peace.
• You feel anxious more than happy.
• Says “I’m not ready for a relationship” but acts like you’re together.
• Always has an excuse — for everything.

he makes me

cry

ignores me leaves me in the dark

hurts my feelings by doing that

and just ignores me when I say something

How does that sound to any of you out there?

Sound like somebody doing anything good for me at all?

Be careful who you give yourself to

Some people will just take advantage of it even though they’ve been hurt before they’ll still hurt you without a care in the world

And I’m done

You gotta see people for who they really are

And how they make you feel when they don’t need something from you.

I got you don’t even care or think about how it feels on my side. Really sucks.

there must be higher love

you’re doing a really good job of losing me though.

I wanted so badly to be in your life

Like actually be something in your life and be welcomed into your life

But I can’t make you want me to be in your life

I can’t make you feel something you don’t feel naturally

Maybe you are just a transition

Teaching me a valuable lesson

To value myself

So the person who values me and wants me to be in their life and shows me by words backed up with action comes along

I still believe in true love

I’ve been hurt many times and I still can love

I do love you

But I don’t think you see me

All of me

And you aren’t willing to let me into your life

So what can i do but just accept it for what it is And accept you for who you are

And know that right around the corner

Is someone who truly accepts me and wants me and shows me consistently that I’m someone they love and want to keep around.

It does hurt that it’s not you

Right now

because right now I feel the way I do about you

But I can’t feel that forever – with keeping it the way you have.

It’s not me stopping us from growing with each other

I know you have a lot going on

But here I am trying to show you and give you my love

Ana I don’t think you really care to see that right now

And take it for granted a bit

Until it’s No longer there.

I’m sorry your ex didn’t see what I see

And didn’t want you the way I want you

But I’m also sorry you don’t see me the way someone else will see me

And want me the way someone else will want me

We all gave out lessons we have to learn

i.l.y.r.r.

i.w.y.t.l.m.