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Angel 4h
The glass is already shattered.
The whole house looks like it's beaten and battered.
The darkness inside of you and me
has shown itself to be
way more than just a shadow.

His plan is as old as time—maybe even longer:
weasel his way in, then… just divide and conquer.
He plants his little seed,
then watches from afar
as we break each other's hearts.

We always knew that he was there,
though at first, we didn’t much care.
We knew his presence was strong
but thought our love would never steer us wrong.

But if he can get us to turn on each other
without lifting a finger—then why bother?
Who better to hurt you
than the one you love the most?
Who better to **** a heart than its host?

And instead of purging him out,
we invited him in—
even showed him around.

We held the key to every door,
but every time, chose the same as before.
As you and I fought for control,
he set up shop and claimed his role.

We were so busy, neither of us caught it.
By the time we did, it was too late to stop it.
Pain, anger, and regret eventually take their toll,
until we forget how it feels to be whole.

The cut runs deeper still
when we realize it was done by our own free will.

Now the only question that remains…
is what happens next
when we turn the page?
Angel 1d
Can you just stay with me a little while?
I know we aren’t together,
but the only thing that fixes me is your smile.
You’ve moved on and you’re gone,
but my heart still aches for you.
I’m a little broken and a little lost—
to be found, I know the cost.
I’m not asking you to love me,
not asking you to sway,
All I’m asking
is for a little while you stay.
This poem captures the quiet ache of longing for someone who has already moved on — not asking for love back, just the comfort of their presence for a fleeting moment. It’s about how sometimes healing doesn’t come from grand gestures, but from the simplicity of not being left alone
Angel 1d
I feel the hatred
dripping from my lips.
I hate that you made me feel like this.

As it cascades from my head
to my hand,
washing away the pain
the way the ocean
cleanses words in the sand.

And just when I feel
I’m on the very brink—
it flows
from my hand
to the pen...
and I transform it to ink.

The hatred
spews out effortlessly.
Why the hell
did you do this
to me?

I wanted to love you.
I didn’t want this.
But it’s too late now—
you’ve touched me
with hatred’s kiss.

But if I hate you,
then riddle me this:
When I see a shooting star...
why is it still
for you
I wish?

— The End —