I was shaped in the quiet places of hurt,
where love arrived late and left too soon.
From those shadows, I learned my name,
etched by loss, tempered by fury.
They call me cruel, but they never counted the wounds,
never traced the scars that taught me how to breathe.
Pain became my teacher, solitude my crown,
and from that suffering, I was forged — not broken.
If there is darkness in me, know this:
it was born where mercy never stayed.
Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 2:22 PM UTC
You were my first, not for love, but for trust.
While I feigned ignorance, I crossed a line,
bitter words broke me if you were reversed.
Though I did not know how you held my heart in store,
I believed in love, or something like it, nothing more.
When fondness bloomed, you started loving what you saw.
You nurtured what was budding, despite every flaw.
I wounded you, though I swore my hands were gentle,
blind to the shards I threw, fatal yet accidental.
I too then felt the pull of others’ quiet flame,
tried to cage those burning embers,
but in gripping close, I suffered blame.
For I was terrified to lose the love I thought I’d earned,
yet in gripping close, I watched what I cherished burn.
It hurt you deeper than I ever could have guessed.
You tried to forgive me, time and time again,
but mercy wears thin when pain is your refrain.
A heart can only forgive so many trials,
even one as kind as yours.
Then when you lashed, your anger rose like a storm on sea.
I stood, expecting calm, taking blows quietly.
I hid the hurt; you could not see the cost I bore,
for I too was ignorant of the weight I wore.
I strived to stay faithful, chained desires in my silence,
though not just you, but myself I placed in violence.
In this dance of fear and flight, losing more than trust,
I lost sight of right.
And though before me you stood your heart, once gently given,
you withdrew it, sealing wounds you could not soften.
No longer would you share trust, no longer would you rare—
in that loss, your love receded into something rare.
Yet you left a void where your love once held a throne,
and no other hand has reached me as your own.
If you refuse, my soul will rot, decay in silence.
Swallow me, the void will dread the depth of my defiance.
Depression will drown me as shadows conspire in my core,
for you were the only spark, the only one to kindle fire.
Others turned away when I reached, they closed the door.
You were the first who saw me—and still, you are the core.
Though you took your heart away, you kept me still in sight,
but nothing fills the abyss your love once bathed in light.
Forgive my sins, committed ignorant, my misstepped ways.
Acknowledge all the nights I kept your trust in fervent gaze.
Let this plea not vanish in your silence or your doubts,
for what is me without your heart inside these depths?
Jan 3
Jan 3, 2026 at 10:15 AM UTC