Pensive
@pensivelyme.bsky.social
Writing a poem as often as possible, while dealing with being a workaholic.
Dec 2nd, 2025- #32
I was young when you walked by.
I bought you a sandwich and fries.
I still don't even know your name.
I still heard your voice crack with shame.
I held you as an queer query.
I made your struggle about me.
I watched you leave, glad you were fed.
I was the one satiated.
I was young when you walked by.
I bought you a sandwich and fries.
I still don't even know your name.
I still heard your voice crack with shame.
I held you as an queer query.
I made your struggle about me.
I watched you leave, glad you were fed.
I was the one satiated.
December 3, 2025 at 3:26 AM
Dec 2nd, 2025- #32
I was young when you walked by.
I bought you a sandwich and fries.
I still don't even know your name.
I still heard your voice crack with shame.
I held you as an queer query.
I made your struggle about me.
I watched you leave, glad you were fed.
I was the one satiated.
I was young when you walked by.
I bought you a sandwich and fries.
I still don't even know your name.
I still heard your voice crack with shame.
I held you as an queer query.
I made your struggle about me.
I watched you leave, glad you were fed.
I was the one satiated.
Invisible people walk the town like
wind, sweeping debris under the turnpikes.
Hungry people turned away by scorners
beg for their meals at dim lit street corners.
Scared people who must turn down fresh water
to stay safe from self-righteous slaughter.
wind, sweeping debris under the turnpikes.
Hungry people turned away by scorners
beg for their meals at dim lit street corners.
Scared people who must turn down fresh water
to stay safe from self-righteous slaughter.
December 2, 2025 at 5:26 AM
Invisible people walk the town like
wind, sweeping debris under the turnpikes.
Hungry people turned away by scorners
beg for their meals at dim lit street corners.
Scared people who must turn down fresh water
to stay safe from self-righteous slaughter.
wind, sweeping debris under the turnpikes.
Hungry people turned away by scorners
beg for their meals at dim lit street corners.
Scared people who must turn down fresh water
to stay safe from self-righteous slaughter.
Thirty days hath November;
Soon is birthed December.
So I sit with the poems
this month and all I owe them
The joys of catching my breath
Surviving a first love death
Falling now for someone new
Pain in the mirror that's you.
Soon is birthed December.
So I sit with the poems
this month and all I owe them
The joys of catching my breath
Surviving a first love death
Falling now for someone new
Pain in the mirror that's you.
December 1, 2025 at 3:54 AM
Thirty days hath November;
Soon is birthed December.
So I sit with the poems
this month and all I owe them
The joys of catching my breath
Surviving a first love death
Falling now for someone new
Pain in the mirror that's you.
Soon is birthed December.
So I sit with the poems
this month and all I owe them
The joys of catching my breath
Surviving a first love death
Falling now for someone new
Pain in the mirror that's you.
I'm feeling awful low.
I know you are not mine,
But I can't let you go.
So "How am I?" "I'm fine."
"I'm fine" like you, today,
Face scrunched up in pain.
Your body made to pay
When you wouldn't abstain.
I know you are not mine,
But I can't let you go.
So "How am I?" "I'm fine."
"I'm fine" like you, today,
Face scrunched up in pain.
Your body made to pay
When you wouldn't abstain.
November 30, 2025 at 5:55 AM
I'm feeling awful low.
I know you are not mine,
But I can't let you go.
So "How am I?" "I'm fine."
"I'm fine" like you, today,
Face scrunched up in pain.
Your body made to pay
When you wouldn't abstain.
I know you are not mine,
But I can't let you go.
So "How am I?" "I'm fine."
"I'm fine" like you, today,
Face scrunched up in pain.
Your body made to pay
When you wouldn't abstain.
This air mattress night at a friend’s,
Their dog is laid across my lap
Someone else whistles the nights end
Through congested snores in his nap.
So I lie awake. I admit
I’m not up from inconveniences;
I’m wondering if this is it.
Their dog is laid across my lap
Someone else whistles the nights end
Through congested snores in his nap.
So I lie awake. I admit
I’m not up from inconveniences;
I’m wondering if this is it.
November 29, 2025 at 6:51 AM
This air mattress night at a friend’s,
Their dog is laid across my lap
Someone else whistles the nights end
Through congested snores in his nap.
So I lie awake. I admit
I’m not up from inconveniences;
I’m wondering if this is it.
Their dog is laid across my lap
Someone else whistles the nights end
Through congested snores in his nap.
So I lie awake. I admit
I’m not up from inconveniences;
I’m wondering if this is it.
Indecision is my great curse,
from my childhood until my hearse:
choices from career to words in verse.
Its draining my joy, life, and purse.
Advisors say follow your heart,
not knowing that tears me apart.
Follow the money then, or art?
I did, but still want to restart
from my childhood until my hearse:
choices from career to words in verse.
Its draining my joy, life, and purse.
Advisors say follow your heart,
not knowing that tears me apart.
Follow the money then, or art?
I did, but still want to restart
November 28, 2025 at 6:06 AM
Indecision is my great curse,
from my childhood until my hearse:
choices from career to words in verse.
Its draining my joy, life, and purse.
Advisors say follow your heart,
not knowing that tears me apart.
Follow the money then, or art?
I did, but still want to restart
from my childhood until my hearse:
choices from career to words in verse.
Its draining my joy, life, and purse.
Advisors say follow your heart,
not knowing that tears me apart.
Follow the money then, or art?
I did, but still want to restart
I’m torn between being happy for you
And feeling like the world ended for me.
I want to celebrate all that you do
But I can’t when you’re success means debris
And feeling like the world ended for me.
I want to celebrate all that you do
But I can’t when you’re success means debris
November 27, 2025 at 6:55 AM
I’m torn between being happy for you
And feeling like the world ended for me.
I want to celebrate all that you do
But I can’t when you’re success means debris
And feeling like the world ended for me.
I want to celebrate all that you do
But I can’t when you’re success means debris
The cruelest joke that life could play
Is to give but a single day
That I bring you breakfast to bed
and watch light return to your head.
Maybe, life finds it more cruel
to lend me a night when I fool
myself into letting you rest
your gentle head upon my chest.
Is to give but a single day
That I bring you breakfast to bed
and watch light return to your head.
Maybe, life finds it more cruel
to lend me a night when I fool
myself into letting you rest
your gentle head upon my chest.
November 26, 2025 at 6:49 AM
The cruelest joke that life could play
Is to give but a single day
That I bring you breakfast to bed
and watch light return to your head.
Maybe, life finds it more cruel
to lend me a night when I fool
myself into letting you rest
your gentle head upon my chest.
Is to give but a single day
That I bring you breakfast to bed
and watch light return to your head.
Maybe, life finds it more cruel
to lend me a night when I fool
myself into letting you rest
your gentle head upon my chest.
Each time I think
I’m over you,
You find some new
Way of making
Me fall again.
How dare you?
I want you
To fade off
Into night
But your life
Has become
My lighthouse.
I’m over you,
You find some new
Way of making
Me fall again.
How dare you?
I want you
To fade off
Into night
But your life
Has become
My lighthouse.
November 25, 2025 at 5:34 AM
Each time I think
I’m over you,
You find some new
Way of making
Me fall again.
How dare you?
I want you
To fade off
Into night
But your life
Has become
My lighthouse.
I’m over you,
You find some new
Way of making
Me fall again.
How dare you?
I want you
To fade off
Into night
But your life
Has become
My lighthouse.
Storm clouds roll over head,
As sunken eyed, children
dressed black bury their dead.
We may have been grown then,
but for that brief moment,
we were but babes calling
out for souls now dormant.
Our bare hearts kept falling,
As sunken eyed, children
dressed black bury their dead.
We may have been grown then,
but for that brief moment,
we were but babes calling
out for souls now dormant.
Our bare hearts kept falling,
November 24, 2025 at 4:08 AM
Storm clouds roll over head,
As sunken eyed, children
dressed black bury their dead.
We may have been grown then,
but for that brief moment,
we were but babes calling
out for souls now dormant.
Our bare hearts kept falling,
As sunken eyed, children
dressed black bury their dead.
We may have been grown then,
but for that brief moment,
we were but babes calling
out for souls now dormant.
Our bare hearts kept falling,
Well, I guess it’s past due,
but I’m still pulling through.
I may have failed on the
One technicality,
That it is past midnight.
But, till I snuff my light,
I think I can decide
That I can override
but I’m still pulling through.
I may have failed on the
One technicality,
That it is past midnight.
But, till I snuff my light,
I think I can decide
That I can override
November 23, 2025 at 6:39 AM
Well, I guess it’s past due,
but I’m still pulling through.
I may have failed on the
One technicality,
That it is past midnight.
But, till I snuff my light,
I think I can decide
That I can override
but I’m still pulling through.
I may have failed on the
One technicality,
That it is past midnight.
But, till I snuff my light,
I think I can decide
That I can override
It still haunts me
That lacking faith
Was the turnkey
Cause for heartache.
I was told my
Depression was
A figment by
Satans own cause.
That Jesus could
Cure my sadness,
One day he would.
But he cared less.
Believe longer.
Love Him fonder.
Make faith stronger.
I still wonder.
That lacking faith
Was the turnkey
Cause for heartache.
I was told my
Depression was
A figment by
Satans own cause.
That Jesus could
Cure my sadness,
One day he would.
But he cared less.
Believe longer.
Love Him fonder.
Make faith stronger.
I still wonder.
November 22, 2025 at 5:01 AM
It still haunts me
That lacking faith
Was the turnkey
Cause for heartache.
I was told my
Depression was
A figment by
Satans own cause.
That Jesus could
Cure my sadness,
One day he would.
But he cared less.
Believe longer.
Love Him fonder.
Make faith stronger.
I still wonder.
That lacking faith
Was the turnkey
Cause for heartache.
I was told my
Depression was
A figment by
Satans own cause.
That Jesus could
Cure my sadness,
One day he would.
But he cared less.
Believe longer.
Love Him fonder.
Make faith stronger.
I still wonder.
On a cold fall
Morning when I
Can't justify
Trying again.
When I'm buried
In a number
that still reminds
me of last year.
While I'm engrossed
with the thought I'm
stuck repeating
the same mistakes.
Its a stranger
reminding me
Of "Si, se puede"
that fixed today.
Morning when I
Can't justify
Trying again.
When I'm buried
In a number
that still reminds
me of last year.
While I'm engrossed
with the thought I'm
stuck repeating
the same mistakes.
Its a stranger
reminding me
Of "Si, se puede"
that fixed today.
November 21, 2025 at 3:37 AM
On a cold fall
Morning when I
Can't justify
Trying again.
When I'm buried
In a number
that still reminds
me of last year.
While I'm engrossed
with the thought I'm
stuck repeating
the same mistakes.
Its a stranger
reminding me
Of "Si, se puede"
that fixed today.
Morning when I
Can't justify
Trying again.
When I'm buried
In a number
that still reminds
me of last year.
While I'm engrossed
with the thought I'm
stuck repeating
the same mistakes.
Its a stranger
reminding me
Of "Si, se puede"
that fixed today.
I don’t dream. I suffer
through all my restless boughts
Of terrors, fears, and doubts,
always sure they recur.
But some nights, I do sneak
You into my sleep to
Dance until morning dew
These are the nights of peak.
through all my restless boughts
Of terrors, fears, and doubts,
always sure they recur.
But some nights, I do sneak
You into my sleep to
Dance until morning dew
These are the nights of peak.
November 20, 2025 at 5:24 AM
I don’t dream. I suffer
through all my restless boughts
Of terrors, fears, and doubts,
always sure they recur.
But some nights, I do sneak
You into my sleep to
Dance until morning dew
These are the nights of peak.
through all my restless boughts
Of terrors, fears, and doubts,
always sure they recur.
But some nights, I do sneak
You into my sleep to
Dance until morning dew
These are the nights of peak.
Its in the parlor that the bad news came.
we sit in shock at our families shame.
"She's pregnant and not married"? the elder
repeats, a sour base refrain "We failed her."
we sit in shock at our families shame.
"She's pregnant and not married"? the elder
repeats, a sour base refrain "We failed her."
November 19, 2025 at 3:50 AM
Its in the parlor that the bad news came.
we sit in shock at our families shame.
"She's pregnant and not married"? the elder
repeats, a sour base refrain "We failed her."
we sit in shock at our families shame.
"She's pregnant and not married"? the elder
repeats, a sour base refrain "We failed her."
It's One Hundred Eighty Four Days
Since I tried joining history
The odds that it all worked out stays
a most amazing mystery.
Strange that I let myself be hurt
to the point of hurting myself.
I, ready to return to dirt,
prepared a blade to run asself.
Since I tried joining history
The odds that it all worked out stays
a most amazing mystery.
Strange that I let myself be hurt
to the point of hurting myself.
I, ready to return to dirt,
prepared a blade to run asself.
November 18, 2025 at 4:38 AM
It's One Hundred Eighty Four Days
Since I tried joining history
The odds that it all worked out stays
a most amazing mystery.
Strange that I let myself be hurt
to the point of hurting myself.
I, ready to return to dirt,
prepared a blade to run asself.
Since I tried joining history
The odds that it all worked out stays
a most amazing mystery.
Strange that I let myself be hurt
to the point of hurting myself.
I, ready to return to dirt,
prepared a blade to run asself.
I don't show you my love
to have yours in return.
I show it in lieu of
needing to hide or burn
it. Because love exists,
and your existence should
should be met with purest
form of love that it could.
to have yours in return.
I show it in lieu of
needing to hide or burn
it. Because love exists,
and your existence should
should be met with purest
form of love that it could.
November 17, 2025 at 3:01 AM
I don't show you my love
to have yours in return.
I show it in lieu of
needing to hide or burn
it. Because love exists,
and your existence should
should be met with purest
form of love that it could.
to have yours in return.
I show it in lieu of
needing to hide or burn
it. Because love exists,
and your existence should
should be met with purest
form of love that it could.
The kitchens a mess,
Well a disaster really.
My life feels like a disaster.
So my life could be a kitchen?
It would be nice to clean
It up and prepare dishes.
But it’ll get messy again
and need to be maintained.
If only it were exciting to
Scrub counters and pans.
Well a disaster really.
My life feels like a disaster.
So my life could be a kitchen?
It would be nice to clean
It up and prepare dishes.
But it’ll get messy again
and need to be maintained.
If only it were exciting to
Scrub counters and pans.
November 16, 2025 at 5:19 AM
The kitchens a mess,
Well a disaster really.
My life feels like a disaster.
So my life could be a kitchen?
It would be nice to clean
It up and prepare dishes.
But it’ll get messy again
and need to be maintained.
If only it were exciting to
Scrub counters and pans.
Well a disaster really.
My life feels like a disaster.
So my life could be a kitchen?
It would be nice to clean
It up and prepare dishes.
But it’ll get messy again
and need to be maintained.
If only it were exciting to
Scrub counters and pans.
The sound my heart sings
when you pluck its strings,
is the highest chord
ever sung before.
So please, in goodbyes
put off, realize
all the melody
that you take from me.
I hope in my note
You hear I'm devote
To singing for you.
Would you sing back too?
when you pluck its strings,
is the highest chord
ever sung before.
So please, in goodbyes
put off, realize
all the melody
that you take from me.
I hope in my note
You hear I'm devote
To singing for you.
Would you sing back too?
November 15, 2025 at 4:51 AM
The sound my heart sings
when you pluck its strings,
is the highest chord
ever sung before.
So please, in goodbyes
put off, realize
all the melody
that you take from me.
I hope in my note
You hear I'm devote
To singing for you.
Would you sing back too?
when you pluck its strings,
is the highest chord
ever sung before.
So please, in goodbyes
put off, realize
all the melody
that you take from me.
I hope in my note
You hear I'm devote
To singing for you.
Would you sing back too?
On my nightstand, I still have a picture
of you from your memorial. Your hair
for ever styled in that Eighty's figure.
You hated that joke, but said you don't care.
of you from your memorial. Your hair
for ever styled in that Eighty's figure.
You hated that joke, but said you don't care.
November 14, 2025 at 4:52 AM
On my nightstand, I still have a picture
of you from your memorial. Your hair
for ever styled in that Eighty's figure.
You hated that joke, but said you don't care.
of you from your memorial. Your hair
for ever styled in that Eighty's figure.
You hated that joke, but said you don't care.
Habitually making worse choices
And giving way to the worst voices
If only I could reel it all in
And possibly find myself again
Instead I still push further for you
Forcing myself things you’d never do.
And giving way to the worst voices
If only I could reel it all in
And possibly find myself again
Instead I still push further for you
Forcing myself things you’d never do.
November 13, 2025 at 5:44 AM
Habitually making worse choices
And giving way to the worst voices
If only I could reel it all in
And possibly find myself again
Instead I still push further for you
Forcing myself things you’d never do.
And giving way to the worst voices
If only I could reel it all in
And possibly find myself again
Instead I still push further for you
Forcing myself things you’d never do.
I didn't choose to
favor kangaroo.
It, asininely,
was assigned me.
Now you hand a blue
Roo to me to do
With as I see fit
And I carry it.
So it can see the
world alongside me
when you cannot for
distance sake explore.
favor kangaroo.
It, asininely,
was assigned me.
Now you hand a blue
Roo to me to do
With as I see fit
And I carry it.
So it can see the
world alongside me
when you cannot for
distance sake explore.
November 12, 2025 at 4:21 AM
I didn't choose to
favor kangaroo.
It, asininely,
was assigned me.
Now you hand a blue
Roo to me to do
With as I see fit
And I carry it.
So it can see the
world alongside me
when you cannot for
distance sake explore.
favor kangaroo.
It, asininely,
was assigned me.
Now you hand a blue
Roo to me to do
With as I see fit
And I carry it.
So it can see the
world alongside me
when you cannot for
distance sake explore.
So I made another promise
That I can never seem to keep.
I have no time for things amiss
When it has come past time to sleep.
That I can never seem to keep.
I have no time for things amiss
When it has come past time to sleep.
November 11, 2025 at 4:19 AM
So I made another promise
That I can never seem to keep.
I have no time for things amiss
When it has come past time to sleep.
That I can never seem to keep.
I have no time for things amiss
When it has come past time to sleep.
Healing is a hell of a drug.
Far more expensive than pain to
build habits from trenches long dug.
However, its long overdue!
Seeing reflections waving through.
Naming the sins and acting then.
Looking back so shamelessly too.
Making peace with myself again.
Far more expensive than pain to
build habits from trenches long dug.
However, its long overdue!
Seeing reflections waving through.
Naming the sins and acting then.
Looking back so shamelessly too.
Making peace with myself again.
November 10, 2025 at 3:32 AM
Healing is a hell of a drug.
Far more expensive than pain to
build habits from trenches long dug.
However, its long overdue!
Seeing reflections waving through.
Naming the sins and acting then.
Looking back so shamelessly too.
Making peace with myself again.
Far more expensive than pain to
build habits from trenches long dug.
However, its long overdue!
Seeing reflections waving through.
Naming the sins and acting then.
Looking back so shamelessly too.
Making peace with myself again.
Drunk in the floor.
Not sure if I
Even care anymore.
Just feeling sleepy.
Didn’t think that I
Would have a problem.
Still won’t admit it, why?
When I hang on by a hem.
She says I hide at the bottom of a bottle.
I worry I’d die, if I let off the throttle.
Not sure if I
Even care anymore.
Just feeling sleepy.
Didn’t think that I
Would have a problem.
Still won’t admit it, why?
When I hang on by a hem.
She says I hide at the bottom of a bottle.
I worry I’d die, if I let off the throttle.
November 9, 2025 at 3:47 AM
Drunk in the floor.
Not sure if I
Even care anymore.
Just feeling sleepy.
Didn’t think that I
Would have a problem.
Still won’t admit it, why?
When I hang on by a hem.
She says I hide at the bottom of a bottle.
I worry I’d die, if I let off the throttle.
Not sure if I
Even care anymore.
Just feeling sleepy.
Didn’t think that I
Would have a problem.
Still won’t admit it, why?
When I hang on by a hem.
She says I hide at the bottom of a bottle.
I worry I’d die, if I let off the throttle.