We searched the skies for shooting stars
yet never thanked the quiet moon—
'how it stayed
how it prayed'
even when we didn’t.
We mourned the flowers we never held
but not the hands that reached for us
when we were too broken
to feel their warmth.

Rain fell on rooftops like lullabies
and we cursed the weather
never knowing it was—
god’s soft way of asking us to rest.
there were days we begged for signs
for answers wrapped in thunder
yet the silence itself
was an answer—
a mercy wrapped in stillness.

We wrote poems for those who left
but not for the air that stayed
when our lungs gave up,
or traffic that halted our time
so we wouldn't be wounded by—
death's call that compromised
oh, how blind we were
to the blessings that never screamed—
the mother who prayed behind a closed door
the stranger who smiled and meant it
the night that didn’t last forever.

We begged for forever—
but were handed fleeting moments
wrapped in the scent of old rain,
echoing laughter in empty rooms
we never thought we’d miss
we thought love had to arrive
like fire through glass
but it was the scarf left to be found
the door left unlocked
the voice that whispered "I believe in you,"
when even we didn’t.

Look closer.
Sometimes,
what saves you
doesn’t come with a name.
Sometimes,
love never announces itself—
it just leaves the light on
And maybe that
was the blessing all along.


Erennwrites

She was born with bound feet
and dreams too wide for a corset
Her cradle sang lullabies
in tongues no one let her write
A girl made of dusk and dust
beneath ceilings men mistook
for heavens.
she walked the blood-stained bridge
between silence and survival
Her body was not hers—
it was a battleground
a burden, a bargaining chip
She knew hands not by gentleness
but by what they took.

They called it duty
when they bruised her thighs
They called it love
when they hushed her cries
And when she bled
from places stories won’t name
they told her
that’s just what happens
to women who disobey
But still, she stitched stars
into her daughters’ eyes
With broken nails
she peeled hunger from the table
poured the last of herself
into pots and prayers.
She worked farms
with wombs still torn, from childbirth—
and smiled through it
so her sons wouldn’t see.

She yearned for books
but was handed brooms
Letters danced beyond her grasp—
so she taught herself in the dark
behind curtains
while lullabies played over the radio
She listened,
she learned,
she remembered
They told her education was wasted—
on a woman
But she educated the world—
one child at a time.

She wore kebayas stitched with sorrow
hijabs heavy with hope
bonnets and braids
that hid the grief of generations
She held her tongue
so her daughters could speak.
She walked behind
so they could run.
Romance was never all flowers—
it was staying after the beatings
praying he'd change
It was brushing her daughter's hair
while her own still smelled
like a stranger’s breath
But through it all—
she never broke
She bent, she bled,
but never broken

She is the reason we speak freely
learn openly, walk safely—
She is the reminder
How women should be treated
Like a rose but never wilts
That's how women should be


Erennwrites

He told me he’d never grow up—
that forever could live in a laugh
in a stolen night's kiss
and the glint of a lie dressed as stars

He said love was a flight
just follow the second star
but forgot to mention
how hard the landing hurts
when the sky disappears
I thought he was Peter Pan—
wild green eyes, crooked grin
heart full of wind and wonder
But he never fought for me
He never stayed

Real boys don’t fly
They fall
They promise pixie dust
and give you empty hands—
With hope, they say “forever”
like it’s a game of clocks
then vanish in no time
when the rules start to matter
I kept waiting at the window,
hair tangled in moonlight
hope bruised against the sill—
but Neverland was just a name
for the place where he left me

He’s not Peter Pan
He never was

And I—
I was 'Tinker Bell' without the glow
'Wendy' without the voice
just a girl who learned too late
that fantasy is a cruel fate
when it wears the face of someone
you almost loved

And I—
I was the fairytale he never meant to finish,
the story he closed before the ending.
So now I wear my heartbreak
like broken wings stitched in gold—
I don’t fly anymore,
I finally know how to walk away


Erennwrites

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