I don’t ask for a palace of gold,
or a crown made of stars above,
just a quiet place in someone’s heart,
just the feeling of being loved.
I want a hand that stays in mine
when the night feels wide and cold,
a voice that says, “You’re safe with me,”
a story where I’m not alone.
I want a love that sees my cracks
and doesn’t turn away,
that calls my broken pieces art
and wants in them to stay.
I’m tired of being brave in silence,
of standing strong for show,
I want to rest inside a soul
that lets my true self show.
Not a perfect, shining fairytale,
just something real and true—
a heart that chooses me each day
the way I’d choose them too.
Because wanting to be loved
isn’t weakness, isn’t fear,
it’s just a human, fragile hope
that someone will stay near.
And maybe someday, softly,
my lonely nights will end,
when love won’t feel like something lost—
but like a long-lost friend.
Jan 21
Jan 21, 2026 at 2:05 PM UTC
when we were together i asked you if there's anything you would die for.
you said no.
you asked me if there's anything i would die for.
i said being free.
i don't think you understood that,
but that tells me how different we are.
Sep 25, 2024
Sep 25, 2024 at 11:12 AM UTC