Loyalty means you
in every draft
and every recreation;
I revive you
in each second
of life and death.
Wildly,
I crave you—until the edge
of the unknown.
—Kira
Mar 20
Mar 20, 2026 at 8:21 PM UTC
Is it loyalty,
I wonder,
to craft you
into every corner of my world?
To fill my home
with your shadow,
even though you wander far…
perhaps with someone else?
I opened Shein,
and I spent hours
designing every piece I could,
placing your image on it:
the blanket I wrap myself in alone,
the pillows I hug
when the world crushes me,
the mug I sip my green tea from,
the Locket necklaces,
the candlesticks,
the LED lights,
the rose-gold and
white crystal engraved necklaces…
I crafted everything myself,
and I do not own a single thing yet…
All I have done is place the order,
and now I wait for them to arrive,
while my heart screams your name
in the silence of the empty room….
Not just for loyalty…
But to satisfy my vanity,
to feed my desperate need for you,
for your gaze
to follow me in every corner,
your smile perhaps…
perhaps just for me,
because I am me…
because I crave you
obsessively and
sickly…
I wear all the necklaces
engraved with your image
in my imagination now,
as if my heart could hold you,
as if my soul could feel you near,
even though you are not here yet…
Perhaps this is not loyalty
in the traditional sense,
and perhaps the world
will never know of this love,
of these acts of devotion
unseen by anyone,
of this beautiful torment
that fills me
and kills me at the same time…
I want to see you
in every corner of the house,
in the living room,
the bedroom,
the kitchen…
on the walls,
the tables,
the shelves,
in every thought
hidden in my mind
that no one else can see…
I want you to always smile at me,
to be present even in your absence,
to fill the void that cannot heal…
Perhaps
there is nothing else
I can do but wait…
wait in silence,
in aching patience,
trying to make you a home,
to make your love a warmth
that fills my life,
that makes me feel loyal,
even if the world thinks
I am lost,
useless,
soulless…
Aug 29, 2025
Aug 29, 2025 at 7:44 PM UTC
I have grown afraid
of awareness itself—
of awakening into a moment
where I cannot speak with you,
of being alone without the ability
to reach you
whenever fear grips me.
I will go on chasing dopamine,
feeding it,
raising it higher,
just to escape.
And so,
I lose consciousness every day,
because
whenever I return to awareness,
I remember you,
and I break into relentless tears.
There is no savior from
the desire to end it all,
and no savior from the terror
of the end itself.
Aug 18, 2025
Aug 18, 2025 at 11:21 AM UTC
Just creating
another forsaken album…
A hundred so-called
passionate videos,
with poetic feelings,
lipstick, white nails
that once lured you
when you were drunk,
tears and dark days,
and hundreds of cigarettes
drenched in sorrow—
the videos and pictures
I used to take for you,
and you would confess,
when you were no longer
in your demonic haze,
that you loved my sleepy eyes,
and wished you could
fall asleep inside them.
I keep them,
let them pile up,
until you stumble back home
with your emotions,
longing to die beside me,
starving for my tenderness,
aching to devour all of me.
No fire
nor ice
could mend me
but your moody existence.
Your gentle voice
when you are drowning
in a good mood,
high,
untouchable.
I knew I held you tighter
than you ever guessed—
until I fractured into fragile glass.
And still,
you made me believe
that nothing could heal me
from your merciless game.
I am starving
to wrap you in my embrace,
to engulf you
in a tenderness
that would shield you—
even if you arrived
only to set it on fire.
What havoc
could ever be as deadly
as you letting go of my hand,
asking me to pretend
that life goes on?
So I became a woman in black—
pale,
thoughtful,
melancholic,
sipping and devouring
what poisons my mind,
what dares to shape your smile
upon strangers’ faces.
What brings you alive
through my isolation?
Whenever I want to
summon you,
I only look at the sofa
and smile,
and your imaginary
smile smiles back at me—
a hallucination so perfect,
I would die to keep it alive.
It’s not about time,
nor endings.
It’s a great starvation,
for a single milligram
of your presence.
Nothing is darker
than confessing
you are my last resort—
come,
and shed my soul away.
I am grieving—
poetically,
deadly.
But who else is here
to witness my suffering?
Who counts my tears,
only to tell you later
that Nicole
is not fleeing your memory,
not hating the dark whispers
of your name,
but craving—
yes, craving—
to weep over you,
because that is all
she has left
to prove
how violently,
how ruinously,
she loved you.
And in the end,
when all illusions fade,
when silence
devours the night,
I return to the videos
and pictures,
to my sleepy eyes
that you once loved,
wishing,
always wishing,
that you could ask me
to sleep inside them again.
Aug 17, 2025
Aug 17, 2025 at 4:02 PM UTC
Inhaling havoc,
devouring poison
disguised as sweetness,
showering my skin
with acid rain—
all of it feels gentler
than accepting
happiness that
does not include you.
I refuse
to let you slip away,
not from my mind,
not from my days.
What destroys me is
what I crave most:
pain,
self-inflicted wounds,
the intoxicating addiction
of suffering.
I hunger for death
in countless shapes,
yet even death itself
would be nothing
compared to the silence
of losing you.
Neither happiness
nor fortune
could ever convince me
to worship anything
but your name.
There is no hope
after you.
That is why
everything around me
bears the echo of you—
the garden,
the days,
my passwords,
my very breath.
I wake each morning
only to invent
new ways to prove
the depth of my love.
I remember the places
we wandered together,
the times I lifted you
from the abyss
even after
you left me broken,
beaten,
still I stood—
shielding you
from yourself.
And yet,
my curse remains:
the thought that you
might find peace
in arms
that are not mine.
It tears me apart,
this jealousy that
burns like
an eternal wound.
A mother always waits
for her child,
no matter how rebellious,
how cruel,
how heartless.
For even the cruelest child
is carved from her heart.
And I—
I have begun to flee
from all places today,
because everywhere
I look,
I find only shadows of you.
I linger in their corners,
like a mother
who has lost her child
forever,
still clinging to
the hope of finding him
in the places
he once wandered
with her.
As for my family,
who will see me
only when
they receive my corpse,
they will see your name
tattooed and
carved above my heart,
and then
they will understand that
if they had been by my side,
you would not have left,
and I would not
have descended
into the hell of days.
You closed the door
from the right,
they from the left,
and there was nothing
left but
a chair and a noose
to feed upon
for the remaining days.
I left you all behind,
and you, Daniel,
I loved to be the mother
you wished for yourself—
the mother
I had always wished
to be for myself,
to love you
unconditionally
even if you
were poison
running through
my veins.
I never punished you
with silent treatment,
never hurt you,
never left you—
even when you left me,
even when
you replaced the lock
and left me alone
in the street at night,
refusing to let me in.
I did not leave you…
I tried with all of you,
but you all betrayed me.
And I—
I will always
wait for you,
Daniel,
despite the whispers,
despite the karma
that binds us.
Even if you vanish
into another’s night,
know this:
I still love you,
with every shattered bone
of my being,
with every scar I carve
to keep you near.
I wrote these lines
for you,
in the ink
of my own blood,
because I know,
deep in my soul,
the day will come
when you will search
for these words,
and then
you will know,
finally,
how fiercely,
how endlessly,
I loved you.
Aug 17, 2025
Aug 17, 2025 at 9:44 AM UTC
I would rather be your greatest sin,
The one you crushed with your own hands — emotionally, mentally —
Than to pray for someone better.
It is better to stop here,
No longing for a life beyond you.
You yearn for money, grand houses, shining cars.
And I — I yearn only for you.
You used me as a bridge, a stepping stone toward your dreams,
And yet, I prayed you would be my last harbor, my refuge.
And still, I ache to be your great sin, your Karma.
I want to watch you stumble through misfortunes,
To see despair darken your days as it once darkened mine.
I want you to return to my Hello Poetry website,
To read, with grief, how fiercely I loved you,
After you lose me forever.
Yes, you will return — that is all you will ever have from me,
For I will no longer breathe in this world.
And despite all I write, this is me — trembling with guilt and fear for you.
I do not wish to be cruel, I do not wish to hurt you.
Yet you have broken me so deeply, I laugh through my tears.
I love you so much that it terrifies me,
And I fear that my love, unguarded, will burn you,
Even as I ache to be the shadow in your joy,
The misfortune that follows you like a whisper.
I long for days so deadly that nature itself rebels against you,
Yet I tremble at the thought of your pain.
I want you to weep over my grave, begging my forgiveness,
To stand straight and implore God a hundred times to soften my heart,
To fear the nights and the days,
Not knowing what else my Karma has reserved.
I do not crave a new happy life, nor a perfect husband.
I yearn only to be the one who makes you wish to turn back time,
To keep me, to pamper me, to dare not touch me,
To dare not gaslight me.
And yet, a piece of me cries for your safety,
For your peace, for your heart untouched by my wrath.
I want you to ache for the hours lost,
So that whenever I wrote you a poem,
You would read it with passion, not remind me that you dislike reading.
And still, I wish your nights be gentle,
Even as I long to be the storm that haunts your dreams.
I learned to code games for you —
For birthdays, anniversaries, every trivial and sacred moment.
I gave all I had to give.
But now… after you lose me,
After I bear the weight of loving you to death,
I see it coming.
You will fall for another who will never love you,
Who trades your feelings for coins,
Who uses you without care.
I feel it approaching:
The times you hung up, calling me stupid,
The times you threw things at me,
The moments I sent voice messages, crying, begging for your ear,
And you replied once — a single, hollow message —
I deleted them all, I did not listen.
The times you reminded me my family didn’t love me,
That you were the only one who did.
The times you left me on my own,
The times you threw me from your car, telling me to take an Uber home.
Do you think you are spared from this?
God is just.
Yet my hope clings:
I will watch it all from my grave —
Seeing you return to the sites I built for you,
Rereading the hundreds of messages I wrote,
Over and over, haunted by my absence.
I know it is coming.
God knows my heart, knows that your tears are my weakness.
Perhaps I will even ask Him to forgive you,
Even after all the pain carved into me.
I smoke endlessly, searching for ways to punish myself,
For I was never enough.
I wish for you never to ask for forgiveness,
For I will no longer exist to answer.
You have shattered me a million times.
And Karma is real.
You will know, in that moment.
No Dodge, no sea-side mansion, no Rolex upon your wrist,
Could ever replace the love I poured.
The woman who loved you madly once sold her phone,
Even her Nintendo Switch — not for their worth,
But to buy one more hour, one more breath, while you threatened to leave.
She thought: If I can buy one more hour, perhaps I can save you,
Perhaps I can hold on to what slips through my fingers.
She gave them up, not for their value, but for a chance to keep you a little longer.
And for herself, she bought only a cheap phone, to survive,
So she would not remain with nothing.
Yet still, you humiliated her, drenched her in water,
As if her sacrifices were ashes.
What cruelty is this?
What blindness, not to see her love as the true currency —
Not gold, not games, not phones.
Your birthday will come, and she will do nothing for you.
You will measure what I gave against what she offers.
Yet the true torment will be your love for her.
You will attempt to erase my Karma —
Every act of kindness, charity in my name, good deeds for my sake —
But my shadow will haunt you.
You will long for that girl to be me in spirit, yet live as her.
I know that day is coming.
I feel it approaching like a storm on the horizon.
Do you have the strength to endure it?
I doubt it.
And still… despite all…
I wish my journey to end here, at this station.
For I have loved you beyond measure.
I desire no greater joy, no replacement, no reward.
I seek only the ending.
I am a woman matured in heart and soul,
Certain of my desires, unwavering in my truth.
I know perfectly well that the video games I made for your birthday,
Which you humored me by pretending to like,
You will play later.
You will wish it had been that other woman who made them.
You will rage at God as I have gone to Him,
Questioning why He did not give me better,
Why He took me,
Why He did not place me with the best man,
Why He did not make you forget me,
Why He let me die grieving over you.
And you will cry to Him every day, telling Him how much you love the woman beside you —
But she will never love you.
Only then will you realize there is no escape from the justice of the Lord.
All you had to do was treat me kindly, wipe my tears, soothe my fear —
It would have cost nothing. Yet you chose to hurt me.
I only need You, my Lord, to gently pat my heart until I meet You…
Just for this time, I long for a handful of ice upon my soul,
A soft frost upon my burning heart,
And nothing else but that… until everything comes to an end.
And yet, in the midst of this torment, I tremble with love for you.
I fear for you with a depth that shatters me.
I do not wish you pain, and yet I long to be the shadow that darkens your steps,
The unlucky star that follows your every dawn.
I love you so fiercely, yet my love is my vengeance.
I want to save you, and I want you to suffer —
All at once, all at the same time.
Aug 16, 2025
Aug 16, 2025 at 2:43 AM UTC
I dream of you,
calling my name for help.
And I remember
how truthful I was—
thinking of ways
to reach your hand,
though I knew
this was only a dream.
I saw the glimmer
of a crushed tear
falling from you,
and I burned—
with pain,
with rage for you.
I tried to catch you,
ignoring the doubt,
ignoring the truth of sleep.
All I knew—
you are always my child,
and I will follow no other truth,
even if it costs me
my entire life.
I wept,
calling your name
a thousand times,
trying to soothe you
while you cried.
I wanted—
all at once—
to catch your hand,
to kiss your forehead,
to calm you,
to forgive you,
to pray to God
that this was real,
not a dream.
I woke,
and cried in rage.
How could you be
only in my dreams,
and not in my present,
nor my future?
When I woke,
I took revenge on myself—
smoked two packs of cigarettes,
stood beneath
a cold-water shower—
knowing it is, scientifically,
a “benefit,”
but choosing it
because it is the thing
I hate the most in life.
I denied myself popsicles,
and every small pleasure
my body craves.
That terrifies me.
Yet all prayers belong to you.
I wish to touch your fear again
and tear it apart—
to steal you from the darkness,
to consume your terror,
your misery.
I spend my days without you,
without your honeyed words—
the ones you and I both know
were only for your gain,
vanishing the moment
I refused to give
what you wanted.
And still,
despite knowing,
I loved you.
God knows
I am ready to take you back,
to accept your sins,
your narcissism.
I prefer to cry beside you
than laugh with someone else.
It terrifies me—
the thought of being happy
with someone else.
It chills me to imagine
my loyalty belonging
to anyone but you,
to imagine walking past you
and pretending you’re not there.
I reject it all.
I want to remain
forever and always
available to you—
so that if you ever
knock on my door,
you’ll find the heart
that once held you
still burning,
still dying for you.
I cannot help
but stay loyal.
I made a book cover
with the ache to write you
hundreds of poems.
And I bought you
a vital necklace—
to mark the memory of our first meeting,
to symbolize my love for you,
to show that every part of me
belongs to you.
I intended to fill it with my blood—
a proof, in the most extreme, impossible way,
of my love for you.
But know this—
this necklace is just a simple gift.
You know, it is not only drops of my blood for you,
I am entirely yours.
I am ready, in every possible way,
to prove my love to you—
but you are not here
to receive it.
To prove,
in every unreasonable,
impossible way,
that I love you—
that I can do nothing in this life
but yearn for you.
Day and night taste bitter.
The sea feels far away,
hope feels far away—
and you.
When you blocked me,
I hired multiple Ubers
just to use their phones
to reach you.
I called,
I cried,
I said “I love you”
again and again,
while you hung up.
Even the drivers
felt the intensity of my love for you,
but you did not.
You fed on my tears,
yet I do not blame you now.
I am only afraid—
afraid every time I want to call you,
afraid every time I press your number,
my heart races,
my colon aches,
and I pull back.
Now I speak to God about you,
to the world about you,
to every wave, every bird, every cat
that crosses my path—
I ask them to pray for your return.
Yes, I want you,
and the thought of you being with someone else terrifies me.
Even knowing
that your disorder thrives on staying for gain,
that you will love only yourself,
and only remain with those
who feed you materially, emotionally, spiritually—
I still love you.
Sometimes I pity you,
sometimes I blame your family,
sometimes I fear for you
from your own self,
the self that commands evil.
Sometimes I fear someone might report you,
and you end up in prison…
I am full of fear and ruin.
God, save me.
I am terrifyingly yearning for you,
without confidence,
with great fear
that God might give me
someone “better.”
But He knows
I need no one better than you.
You are my complete,
complicated drug.
If I had great luck with another,
I’d give it to my sisters
so they could be happy—
but for me,
You and only you.
I would spend my life
fixing your uncontainable pieces,
putting them together,
so we could be whole.
I fear being happy with anyone else.
You are my child, my husband,
the thought of you being alone and hungry at night
kills my sleep.
I dare not abandon your childish soul.
I must be prepared
to always be there.
My Lord,
I know You love me,
I know You want to give me the best—
but I need him,
and only him.
No one can touch my feelings
but him.
I am ready
to give up my happiness
for the honor
of being torn apart
beside him.
Aug 14, 2025
Aug 14, 2025 at 8:28 AM UTC
You were always
my one and
only child
My most
cherished
desirable
responsibility
I long to
carry you away
from those toxic
exploitative
friends
who use you
break you and
tear you apart
Whenever
they wound you
you come and
pour your anger
upon me
and still
I welcome it
because
I am utterly
yours
I wish to
watch over you
to follow
the trace of
your steps
to guard you
from
every shadow
of trouble
All those women
whom
your handsomeness
mesmerizes—
you might play
your silent games
with them
just as you did
with me—
but they never
fall for it
That breaks you
shatters you further
and yet
here I remain
secretly
I watch you
your eyes fixed
on her photo
on your phone
the first woman
who utterly
ruined you
witnessing
the rest of
your soul
bleed while
I am no nurse
only a heart that
loves you
beyond reason
I chase you
with prayers
with madness
with unwavering
determination to
remain by your side
I am gently
desperately
in love with your
short-tempered mind
with the way you
seek refuge in me—
even though
you never
promised to
stay forever
I feel as
if I am here only
until you find
your way
back to her
only until she can
shatter you more
I am sorry
I cannot stay
neutral
cannot shield myself
cannot distance
myself from
the gravity of you
I loved you with
all the pain in me—
my family’s negligence
my scars from
emotional and
physical abuse—
and I came
to you with
a heart whole
and overflowing,
ready to be your wife
your mother
your sanctuary
your entire world
How can I
silence my mind
when it tortures me
with your image
when I find you in
every fresh scent
in every drop
of rain
in every whisper
of nature
in every wave that
kisses the shore?
I am not hallucinating;
I am wholly
endlessly
in love with you
I ache to save you—
from yourself
from the trouble that
surrounds you
from the sins that
gnaw at
your spirit—
praying that
God will
not take you away
not now
not from me
What more
can I do to
convince the world
that I would endure
your storm
your borderlines
your fury
endlessly
infinitely
without hesitation?
I love you
save me from
the torment of
worrying over you
Save my soul
and return to me
unscathed
No medicine
no sleeping pill
can still
this restless heart—
not even Seroquel
which once lulled me
into forgetfulness
What prayers
what sacred whispers
could possibly
call you
back to me?
Come back—
I am terrified of
losing you
for you are
the very reason
I am still alive
My sweetheart Daniel
with every prayer
I whisper
I feel the world
rising between us
A thousand
invisible walls
attempting to
tear us apart
With each heartfelt
supplication
misfortune
shadows your path
And the world
conspires to
convince me that
you are not
meant for me
Yet I defy
the impossible
For I have loved you
beyond reason
And I will never
abandon my faith
that miracles
can bloom
even in the
darkest nights
No matter how
harsh you are
no matter how
you wound
I know the weight of
your days
The loneliness
of childhood
The sting of
a family that
treated you differently
from your siblings…
I carry it all
quietly in my heart,
And I will never
let go of you
No matter what
storms may come
No matter how
fierce the night
I will love you
forever
—Your Loyal Temporary Wife
Aug 14, 2025
Aug 14, 2025 at 12:25 AM UTC
You ruined me completely,
Yet I still dare not close my eyes—
Afraid to meet your gaze,
That lures me through
the chaos of my soul
I cannot reach you,
nor forget you,
Yet I wish to name
my garden after you,
With its spring flowers
that might infect you
With gentleness and
tenderness
Still, I dare not
fall asleep or dream,
For your presence
would trap me once again
And though
I’d never confess this to you—
I secretly cherish
this sacred torment, truly I do
Aug 13, 2025
Aug 13, 2025 at 1:57 AM UTC
I missed our fights,
Dark hours and endless nights,
And finally, our poetic moments
If time could return,
I would choose you even harder,
Etching you deeper into the core of my soul
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 12:41 PM UTC