To her who gave thee birth in amber, I cry out.
To her, when the wind stirs, I cry out.
Within her fold thou want’st to be placed—
Thy tender hands of daisies could never be replaced.
_Laai_
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025 at 4:53 PM UTC
I feel your gaze through the image on my screen—
the screen that binds our hearts in silence.
In the quiet between us lives a bond,
gentle, certain, and unwavering.
But oh, how I long for your touch
to linger on my skin—again and again.
Your grasp still hums within me,
like a memory, faint yet alive.
Ah—what lies between us aches in my chest,
until your lips curve, and I breathe again.
I close my eyes,
but the laughter in yours still peeks through—
soft, steady, kind, and soothing.
You may not know it,
but you are my four-leaf clover.
When the light dimmed,
you were the one who brought it back to me.
Your words carry belief—
not loud, but certain—
and somehow, that’s enough.
We had never truly known
what affection or passion looked like.
But you, my darling,
you didn’t just tell me what love is—
you showed me.
Of all the chances life could give,
you were the one it gifted me.
May 2, 2025
May 2, 2025 at 5:37 PM UTC
Every woman I have met has a story,
A story that sickens me to my core.
The narrative unfolds,
Like an apple she was to the eyes of the venomous serpent,
The serpent that took its life before it was even ripe.
Though just a bite he took, his toxin wove in too deep.
As she seeks aid, a voice said the harm has been done and time always runs a little too late.
How many of these stories remain untold?
A world filled with serpents and serpents that unfold.
_Laai_
Nov 24, 2024
Nov 24, 2024 at 11:42 AM UTC