Her parents passed on
before she could tie her own shoes,
left with a baby brother
and grief too big for her hands.
Her grandparents gave her love—
soft, steady,
the kind that never asked her to smile.

But the world outside was cruel.
So she built boxes—
safe little spaces
where no one could hurt her.
She painted roses on the walls:
red for anger,
white for innocence,
black for the nights
she cried without sound.

She spoke in riddles,
loved in silence,
and kept her heart
wrapped in thorns.
No one ever stayed long enough
to see the girl inside the box—
still hoping
someone might enter,
and choose to stay.

Until one day,
he knocked—
not to fix her,
but to sit beside her,
quietly.
And for the first time,
she opened the box,
not to hide—
but to let someone in.


Erennwrites

I called you Jane of all trades,
as if it were just a clever phrase—
as if your hands hadn’t bled learning
every art that helped you stay alive.
But I knew

You didn’t chase mastery
You chased meaning
You picked up crafts
when sleep left you
learned to dance
because silence hurt too much
took up swimming
as if you could swim your troubles
from this weir of waste.
You were always trying—
not to be the best
but to be whole.

And God, how fiercely you fought.
With laughter that sounded like armor,
and eyes that carried battles
no one else dared name.
You were relentless,
brave beyond words,
beautiful in a way that had nothing
to do with what you looked like
and everything to do
with how you survived.

She battled demons
no one else could see
The kind that none believed to be true
Still she fought despite scars—
stitched both in mind and heart
inside the pauses between her own heartbeats
When she gave her heart
she didn’t hand it over in pieces
She poured. She flooded
Like a tulip bursting through frost
soft, bold, unafraid of breaking

You gave your soul in soft-spoken glances,
in texts at 2 a.m
always checking in if I'm okay
in remembering the little things
I never even knew I said.
And I—
I was the lucky one once.

We’re not us anymore.
And maybe we never fully were.
But I carry you, still—
in the quiet ways you changed me.
And I still love you.
Not the way I did then,
but deeper.
Quieter.
In the way a gardener still visits
the soil where a tulip once bloomed—
knowing it will return each spring,
just not for him.

Your name speaks for itself—
You can do everything
Every survival you triumph through
Despite all that your walls did break
But I knew the truth
Loving me was the only thing you didn't master
You couldn't pull through

And if this poem
finds its way to you someday—
just know:
You were never too much.
You were everything.
And loving you
was the closest I ever came
to loving something whole.


Erennwrites

All of my fragments lead me back to you
Despite it all—I know
It's always uncertain
to what we conceived may happen
Fate might be cruel but it's certain
To a degree that it can only be attained
if both are willing

Like tulips,
I'll make a world—
full of gardens full of you
I'll rain it all with my reign
to see you grow
But you will only look up to the sun

Conscious to believe
what is worth remembering
I'll never forget—
Your smile, your laugh, your dances
Your beautiful everything—
in everything that you do

Like the moon—
Cracked on crevices of his demeanor
Those are tears that dried up
That no longer perceived as ethereal
He can only refract from the sun

And you will never be mine
I have always known this
Your tulip heart—
only belongs to the sun


Erennwrites

They said the rain would drown it—
that flames don’t last in storm
But still it burned, a quiet light
refusing to conform

The wind threw every sorrow
the night forgot its name
yet there it stood—
still trembling
a heart disguised as flame

Love didn’t ask for mercy
nor beg the skies to clear—
it burned not for the world to see
but just to persevere

And when the world forgets you—
'your laughter, tears, and pain,'
just like the ember that—
still burns in the rain
Let love be what remembers you
Be the heart that stays—
Always.


Erennwrites

She was 'Autumn'—
warm, but always leaving
A soul stitched from golden light
and goodbyes she never stopped grieving

He was 'Winter'—
quiet, distant,
carving silence into the world
like someone used to resistance

They met
in the blur between late November
when leaves forget to hold on
and snow begins to remember
She smiled like the last fire in a cabin
He stared like someone who knew
the cost of warmth
and what it meant to lose it too soon

She spoke in colors—
scarlets and golds
words that cracked like twigs
but healed like poems never told
He answered in stillness
like frost on glass,
afraid that every touch
would make him shatter at last

But even frost can soften
Even storms can learn to stay
And slowly
she didn’t run
and he didn’t push her away
He let her fall apart in his arms
like leaves too tired to pretend
and she let his cold truth hold her—
not to fix
but to mend

They didn’t belong—
not in the way seasons are told
but somehow, in the ache of each other
they began to unfold

And there
in a world where nothing was meant to last
where autumn leaves and snowflakes
both belong to the past—
they built something quiet
something unknown—
a rhythm,
a whisper,
a heartbeat for a home.


Erennwrites

The train hums like a memory
soft and slow through time—
a moment caught between gazing days
we lost, and hope we move forward.

Scenes flicker through the windowpane—
a mother’s wave, a lover’s stare
a strangers stealing glances
but never the courage to speak.

We travel fast, yet feel so still
in silence, we are seen—
as glances bloom like fragile love
in places we have been.

And maybe time is not a line
but tracks we ride again—
The train moves on
your soul intact, your past in every pane
each stop a reminder, each start a chance
to feel, to fall, to mend.
And every stop—
a chance to choose
To lose or love again.


Erennwrites

You bloom in places pain once lived—
soft, stubborn, beautifully brave

You laugh like nothing ever hurt,
then cry like everything did

You trip, you rise,
you call it clumsy—
'I call it love at first sight'

You're not just strong
You're a tulip in a thunderstorm,
Still choosing to bloom
Still choosing to love.


Erennwrites