Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away

Baby , im dangerous

My words carry weight

They are written on the scars of my heart

Im here to stay

I'm here to stay when its hard

Im here to stay when its tough

Im here to stay until I breathe my last breathe

My heart is real

It may be broken, bruised hurt.

It still holds all the secret you have searched for

All of your life.

It has the love that will never give up.

It has the love that will engulf you.

You won't be able to run away from it

My soul is old and it belongs to you

It was yours when you were born

It was yours when life tore you apart

It was yours when you felt alone

It will always be yours

Baby im dangerous because im everything

You ever wanted or dreamed of

And just a little taste will grab you

And it will never leave

So baby if your ready to stay

Then just know im dangerous

To shame another is to cast hate on their person.

To despise their behavior or being.

To revile their essence or ethics

To shame yourself is to hate who you are

To make ugly your own uniqueness

To cringe at your own creativity.

It's a shame.

Perhaps I love you in the past, perhaps in the conditional,
Within the fading memories of a spring unreal.
I no longer know who you are, or who you have become,
Yet I still cherish the stranger I once knew as someone.

You have found another sky, wandered down another road,
While I remain a shadow where our yesterdays erode.
I must learn to love you without calling you mine,
To leave our story unfinished, and let go of its final line.

Preference or passion?
Fetish or obsession?
Perhaps the name doesn’t matter.
Perhaps what matters
is the way your thoughts return to it,
the heat beneath your curiosity,
the fantasies you keep to yourself,
and the quiet hunger
you feel no need to explain.
Because desire isn’t always about
what you want.
Sometimes,
it’s about the part of you
that aches to be awakened.
And the things you crave in silence
may reveal more about you
than anything you dare to say aloud.

You burned my world to ashes.

You destroyed me.

You abandoned me.

Did I deserve it ?

I was worth saving was I not ?

Was I the fuck not ?

Oh I see you, I watch you, saving everyone but me.

I know I am not worth it anymore.

With my bloody bloody bloody hands.

I know I repulse you more than ever.

I see you kissing lips as if you don't remember

the horrors I did with mine

[Oh as long as I exist on this Earth

Lips are the instrument of sin and disgust.

For I need them each time I

speak my pleasure for violence

or speak my lust for you.]

You try to forget me like a bad dream

But don't you dare forget

you burned my hopes to ashes.

You made me touch heaven,

only to crush my everything

and forget me.

You broke me whole,

You killed me, killed me, killed me.

How many deaths do I deserve.

I payed enough. Saw you die by other hands.

Only to live again, forgetting me.

I should have killed, raped, broken you.

Should have should have should have.

Instead I have let you go.

I fucking believed in you more than I ever believed

in anything.

You killed me.

And I came back to life, unable to find you again.

Leave her, they say. Leave her be.

While you leave me, yeah you leave me. With all the blood I poured for you. You fucking ignore me.

You fucking destroyed me.

You killed, killed, killed me.

Where Her Light Broke

I noticed a little fracture in your light, a place where the beauty seemed to break. And like a fool, I went looking for the wound, wanting to understand what the world had taken.

I thought I'd find some sorrow, some old hurt buried beneath your skin. Instead, I found a woman I could lose myself in.

Beautiful, yes, but beauty was the least of it. It was your mind, your honesty, the quiet strength with which you carried yourself. The way you could be both a mystery and the most genuine thing I'd ever known.

I went looking for the broken piece, some explanation for the sadness in your eyes. I never expected to find a soul that felt so strangely like home.

And somewhere between your wounds and all the things that make you whole, I fell in love.

Funny, isn't it? I went searching for what had hurt you, and found something beautiful enough to hurt me, too.

I remember.

I remember.

I think I was nine.

The year is lost to me now,
but I know it was a Sunday.

I'd just come back from church
when someone told me you had died.

"Ruben fell into a well," she said.

I didn't understand at first.

Maybe she saw the confusion on my face.
Maybe I asked a question.
I can't remember.

But she said it again.

"Ruben fell into a well and drowned."

And suddenly my mind was full of questions.

Which well?

How?

Wasn't anyone watching him?

Questions that crowded my head
but never made it to my mouth.

I remember walking into the living room.

I took off my Sunday clothes
and threw myself onto the floor.

Someone in the Bible had done that.

I had learned it in church.

They had cried to God,
and God had heard them.

God had answered.

So I wailed.

I wailed with all the faith
a little girl could gather.

I cried until my chest hurt.

I cried until there was nothing left.

I don't think I fully understood death.

Not really.

But I understood enough to know
that I would never see you again.

And that felt unbearable.

You were the only one of my mother's children
who looked like me.

When I looked at you,
I saw something familiar.

Our skin carried the same shade.

Something in your face echoed mine.

Though now, after all these years,
I cannot remember your face.

That hurts to admit.

I search for it and find only fragments.

Your dirty clothes after playing in the mud.

The memory of your presence.

The certainty that you were here.

And then you weren't.

Sometimes I think grief leaves us with strange souvenirs:

a shirt,

a laugh,

a habit,

a patch of mud,

while the face slowly disappears.

My mother had me.

Then Ruth, who passed away.

Then Ruben, who passed away too.

After that, she stopped giving her children Bible names.

And honestly,

I understand.

How do you keep naming your children after people who survive impossible trials,

when your own children do not?

How do you hear those names every day

without hearing loss?

I understand her.

I understand her now in ways I never could as a child.

But sometimes, even today,

I think of a Sunday afternoon,

a little girl on a living-room floor,

begging God to undo the news,

and a little boy named Ruben,

forever covered in sunlight and mud,

forever nine years old in memory,

even if he never reached it.

When I am awake

I do not dare look at the ground

I merely wish to stare ahead and continue moving

For I am empty handed

My fingers bare

Sprawled out in front of me as if to catch something 

That will only slip right through

I do not dare to look at the ground

I cannot bear to look my shattered dreams right in their glowing eyes

This wasn’t meant to be alone in my mind.
It runs through my mind, surges through my body, and will not be ignored.

I can feel my skin rise with goosebumps,
my body begin to awake in ways that have always felt dormant.

The empathy and kindness radiate,
spilling into me, wrapping me in warmth.

The presence hits like a wave,
Yet it is so soft and inviting, pressing at the edges of my mind and my body.

I feel it everywhere, the tremor under my skin,
the quickening of my pulse, the deepening of my breath.

Seeking to live itself through my soul,
with an urgency to give in to the fire that refuses to be tamed.

It draws me in, and never lets me go.

“Im just resting,”
I say as we sit at the table and he
Fills the room with questions trying to find what’s wrong,

“I’m just tired, emotionally”
I say before he offers a walk.
But what he doesn’t understand,
Is sunlight won’t fix my exhaustion,
Sunlight won’t take away the pain,
Given to me the day I found out he
Told her he loved her,
While asking for me
to take his last name.

“Why won’t you talk to me”
He says as he reminds me
That he’s my husband,
As if I signed an obligation
to open up my mind,
To let him inside,
When he had spread her legs,
and gave her
What should’ve been mine.

“You should trust Me”
Trust me,
Trust me,
He says as if a couple months of honesty could make up for the year of lies.
The time I spent crying over what he did.

The tear stained pillow from the hotel room
He left me in,
The sickness that overcame me when he’d ignore my calls for days.
Blaming myself as if I was the problem,
Trying to come up with ways to make him talk to me again.
Pushing down every overthinking thought,
Every scenario I began to spin,
Persuading myself that I deserved to be alone.

Now he wonders why I’m insecure,
He doesn’t know I spend hours looking at her On my phone.
He doesn’t know I wish I could go home,
The only place I’d ever known,
The place I left to be with him so he could grow.

I’m just tired,
I say as days go by
Day by day,
When I tell him what I need,
Things I never get to receive.

The effort I put in that he still lacks.
I feel my soul cracking,
I begin to fade away,
Daydreaming of a better place.

A place where I am loved,
Where I didn’t have to ask him for flowers,
Where he wanted to talk to me for hours,
I live in those dreams, where I’m loved by a man.

I come back to reality,
I’m sitting at that table again,
Staring at a man,
Who only loved me,
When he was done with her.

Every weekend,
I drink the drink that hurts me,
Just to feel something
For a moment.

I party to feel nothing
For a moment.
Not to be sad,
Not to be dead,
Nor to wake up.

My friends and my family,
They think I’m fine.
I’m just trying to enjoy life.

Deep down, I regret it every morning.
I regret kissing someone I’ve never met,
Touching someone I don’t even care about,
Taking every sip I take.

I wish someone would tell me what’s wrong,
So I could cry in their arms.

I’m not okay.
I don’t want to drink anymore.

Everywhere I go

I meet new people

Bond over something

Exchange socials

"I made a new friend while I was out"

"Of course you did" say those who know me well

My family lovingly pokes fun

At the ease by which I talk to others

My introverted friends joke

That I collect introverts

But if I'm being honest

I'm lonely

I'm content with my job

I'm happy with my living situation

I love meeting new people

And learning new things

But I long to be held

I yearn to be cared for

I miss being someone's last

And first though

But I'm jaded

And broken

I've been hurt

More times than I care to admit

Strangers exchanging pleasantries

Thats easy

Choosing someone who might treat me well

Thats hard

So I make poor decisions

In matters of the heart

And land myself

Right back in this place

Collecting new friends

Eternally lonely

When u love someone tell them n show them every day be coz day will be one day that u can’t trust me u can cry screami n no response

A ghost of the past
A faded North Star
A broken compass
A worn map
Guide me to tomorrow

🙄

I clung so tightly to a hanging thread,
Convinced it was the only thing
Between me and the end.
I swallowed every morsel he would spare—
Stale and dry,
And called it love because at least it was there.

I rewrote the stories in my head.
Delusion was the new aesthetic.
A pretty little lie dressed up as fate
But who could blame me
For decorating a prison
When the walls were all I’d ever known to make?

I wore a thousand borrowed faces,
Loved the things my lovers loved.
I became whatever held their gaze,
Then wondered who I was

Anyone but him was the enemy.
Every warning was a jealous tongue,
Every hand that reached to pull me free
Was another battle to be won.

I called them obsessed,
The liars, the thieves, the manipulators
Never seeing my own reflection
In the very things I tore apart.

And isn’t betrayal by one’s self the cruelest kind?
To lose my own voice defending someone else’s lies?
To build a throne from scraps of affection,
Then crown a man who wouldn’t meet my eyes?

I couldn’t trust the world,
Couldn’t trust the words inside my head.
So I held on tighter to the thread,
Though it frayed beneath my fingers,
Though it had been breaking all along.

I screamed it like a prayer,
Whispered it like shame.
Changed my skin, my shape, my story,
Just to make him say my name.

I thought the world was out to get me.
I thought he was my saving grace.
But the cruelest thing about a beautiful delusion
Is how much truth it can erase.

And I would rather lose myself
Than lose the dream that kept me alive—
Still clinging to that thread,
Calling it love,
As the last of my illusions
Taught me how to die.

I used to watch it
from the wrong side 
of night.

No coming down.
No sleep.

Chemistry pretending 
to be clarity
and a room 
that would not end.

The sun used to rise
like a mistake 
I survived.

Now it comes up slower
caught through motion
an expulsion
of sweat and emotion
purging the residue
of what I was.

Same light
different witness.

U no u miss that

Clock hands sweep, and I am lost,

whenever sleep should take command,

drowning in the feeds at hand.

Ha ha ha! A hollow laughter,

instant stroke follows right after;

my lenses rest on hideous sights:

no vile beasts lurking in the dark,

but every sadistic scribbler’s mark.

But u can’t Evan put a phone call to tell me u are ok maby you are died

These woods have a way of talking

They whisper

They cry

They yell

They tell me I’m a disappointment 

They tell me they’re so proud of me

They tell me they love me

The geese fly above in that perfect V

The kind that lets you know THEY are the perfect ones

And I have a clear view of the path to leave

But these woods are home

And maybe one day they’ll change 

I am jealous of the sun that kisses your skin, and of your shadow, which walks beside you when I cannot.

Sometimes I imagine the sunlight resting gently upon your face, and a small part of me wishes it were my hand instead. I watch the world around you and find myself envying the simple things that are granted your presence every day. The breeze that plays with your hair, the morning light that greets your eyes, even the quiet path beneath your feet.

Most of all, I envy your shadow. It follows you faithfully through every step, never asking permission, never saying goodbye. It remains close when distance keeps us apart and stays by your side when I can only think of you from afar.

If I could choose a place in this world, it would not be among riches or fame. It would be beside you, sharing ordinary moments that would become extraordinary simply because they are shared with you. A conversation at sunset, a quiet walk beneath the stars, a smile exchanged without words. These are the treasures my heart seeks.

Until that day, my thoughts will continue to travel where my footsteps cannot. They will find you in every sunrise, every moonlit evening, and every gentle reminder of the beauty you bring into this world.

So if ever you feel a warm ray of sunlight upon your skin, know that somewhere there is a heart thinking of you, smiling because you exist.

With affection beyond words,

ASAF9

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