When you die, no one will cry,
No mourners watching the casket lie.
Just an old priest in a faded gown
Will mumble prayers and lay you down.

You pictured storms, a grieving crowd,
Rainfall weeping from every cloud.
But the sun shone bright, uncaring and high —
Not a single soul stopped to sigh.

Your mother won’t be there that day,
Not from grief, not lost in dismay.
She'll hear the news like a distant bell,
And whisper, “Now I can live as well.”

The world won’t pause, won’t skip a beat,
No mass despair, no empty street.
Nothing will shift, no grand goodbye —
Even your dorm won’t stay vacant long after you die.

New people will take your place,
With no idea who filled the space.
They’ll sleep in your bed, unknowing, unfazed,
Where your wrists once bled in a quiet daze.

Their children will run through the greasy hall,
Where you once drank, back against the wall.
They’ll eat from spoons still stained with smoke,
Not knowing the weight of the life you broke.

You’ll die on the way to the ER lights,
Drained of blood from long, quiet fights.
And in the file they’ll calmly note:
"Self-inflicted. No suicide note."

This is pure, untainted love —
With no return, no mirrored flame,
No response from up above,
No real purpose, yet no shame.

You don’t know a thing of me,
Not a name, not even a trace.
But I know all there is to see —
Whispers heaven chose to place.

There’s sweet honey in your tone,
Like aged wine from sacred trees.
And I forget the world I’ve known
When your dark curls brush the breeze.

Love, in silence, threads my days,
Lingering like soft perfume.
And your tattoo — that one word, “Love” —
Blooms forever in my gloom.

Sometimes crying in the night,
Longing just to feel your heat,
Knowing I will never lie
In the place where your heart beats.

You will never learn my name,
Never know this quiet ache.
But your emerald eyes remain —
A memory I’ll never shake.

The one who walked worn paths within the Garden Ring,
Who bled his hands against the millstone’s turning swing,
Who, though the hunt was on, refused to trade his crown for speed,
Who held his hand out still—so that the nail could pierce with need.

You're my little prince,
My sunlight, my moonlit glow.
travel through worlds unknown,
Leaving footprints wherever we go.

Come with me — we'll find some distant shore,
And read our letters written in the sand.
ger can't be spoken, nothing more—
The dawn has come, but not from East as planned.

My anger can't be spoken, can’t be named,
But still, I see the sunlight in your eyes.
ger can't be spoken or explained,
But still, you walked with me beneath the skies.

And every word we wrote was softly spoken,
While sun kept warming all our wounded ground.
Though something deep inside me still feels broken,
You came with me—and that is peace I've found.

Love me as I am,” you say —
The dumbest line we use each day.
It holds no truth, it holds no grace,
Just empty words in a worn-out place.

You mumble it with trembling tone,
He looks through you, cold as stone.
You hoped for poems, stars, romance —
But he won’t give you one more chance.

You dreamed a boy with softer hands,
Who feels, who sees, who understands.
But hearts like his, so dark, withdrawn,
Will never bloom, will never dawn.

You wanted tales with happy ends,
You hoped he'd break, but no—he bends.
nder touch, no gentle smile,
He’s drowned in poison, hate, and bile.

The light once clear has turned to ash,
His soul is twisted, cold, and brash.
He won’t believe in something pure—
Too scared to love, too insecure.

“Love me as I am,” again—
You chant it like a holy strain.
But poems aren’t for girls who cry,
And he’s too lost to even try.

“Love her as she is,” you fool—
It’s not such nonsense, not so cruel.
But blind and proud, you walked away,
And let your joy just rot and stray.