The acrid scent of burning cigarette fills the air.

I hate that smell.

It sears my lungs.

I still remember how much I hated Cigarettes as a kid.

Yet, I glance at the pack, still full, and pull one out.

I place it between my lips and light it.

Do I love this? Or am I simply trying to convince myself that I do?

As I plummeted, I cast my gaze skyward.

With a faint smile, I reached out, yearning for a tender hand to halt my descent.

But alas, none came.

The heavens, once radiant, lost their splendor.

I turned my eyes to the abyss below.

Its darkness gripped my soul with terror, yet still, I longed for a thorned hand to seize mine.

But alas, none came.

With all the strength left in me, I cried out.

And then, in the depths of despair, I grasped my own hand.

In that moment, my eyes opened, and I smiled.

What is love?

Do I know what love is?

Have I ever felt it for someone?

I don’t know. But whenever I think about love I remember a pair of eyes.

I may never be able to describe the beauty of the eyes which used to shine like diamonds.

Whenever I think about love I remember a  smile so bright that it used fill colors in this gray world.

Whenever I think about love I remember a voice. A voice so soothing that it used to calm the raging sea inside my mind.

Whenever I think about love I see a face which I can’t remember now.

I don’t know about love but if there is something I do know is that if it’s real then I want it to be as beautiful as her.

I remember the first time I saw her. The world seemed to pause around me and I felt like I found something that has been missing for eternity.

I also remember the last time I saw her. The world spun too fast and It felt like a part of my heart was torn out.

I remember her parting smile.

I remember the day when I would have sold my soul to stay with her.

I remember the smile that I made and tears that I never knew were in my eyes.

I remember her voice digging like a dagger in my heart.

I remember everything but I don’t remember her face.

I remember how I slowly turned my back against someone that I loved more then myself.

I remember the steps that I took and how heavy they felt.

I remember how I wanted her to stop me.

I remember praying to dead gods and devils alike for the first and last time to not take this from me.

I remember her name which was used …

I remember her scent…

I want to remember her.

Did I give up?

I don’t know..

I still try to hear her smile in the passing breeze.

I still try to feel her touch in the soothing moonlight.

I still try to see her smile in everything that she loved.

I still try to feel her scent in the rain.

I still try to remember her eyes in the starry sky.

Whenever I think about love I still try to remember her.

I knocked at Heaven's door once. It remained closed, so I knocked again, but there was no response.

"Can you let me home? I feel cold."
The door stayed shut. Perhaps my sins kept it closed.

So I turned to the gate of Hell and knocked. It, too, remained closed. I knocked again, but still no answer came.

"Can you let me home? I feel afraid."
The door stayed shut. Perhaps I haven’t sinned enough to warrant entry.

Troubled, I stood between the two, rejected by both, with no place to call home.

As I walked, I felt the weight of strings
Bound to my heart, pulling me back.
I cut one free and moved ahead,
Yet still, the burden made me slack.

Another string I severed with care,
And forward I began to tread.
With each cut, the load grew light,
A smile appearing as I moved ahead.

I glimpsed the place I longed to be,
But strings once more held me tight.
So I cut a few and pressed on still,
My smile growing with the light.

Nearer now, the goal was close,
Yet strings kept tugging, pulling me.
I sliced through more and pushed through,
Determined, I was almost free.

At last, I reached the final step,
The place I’d dreamed of, finally in sight.
I cut the last string and stepped beyond,
A smile wide, yet fading from light.

As I stood in the place I sought,
A question arose, deep and stark:
Who am I now, having shed these strings?
In the silence, I wondered, in the dark.

I feel cold.

The stars shine brightly in the sky above me.

I see the moon, serene and distant.

The dagger rests perfectly in my heart.

I remember the stories my mother once told me.

I recall the faces of my cat and dog.

Yet, why do I feel so empty?

Isn’t this what I always wanted?

To sleep peacefully, to finally be free.

Then why does joy still elude me?

They promised I’d feel it once I reached my goal.

What am I missing?

I pondered this as the final moments of my life slipped away, blood seeping from the wound I gifted myself.

And then, as the last flicker of light faded from my eyes, I understood.

It’s because I can no longer remember that face.

She does not like the Sun,
Perhaps because she’s made of ice.
I loathe it when it scorches her,
So I seize its heat in my fists
Until she is content.

She adores the Moon,
Maybe because its calm embraces her.
I hate it when it wanes,
So I hold it full and bright
Until her smile returns.

She loves the rain,
Perhaps for how its droplets
Play upon her hair.
I curse it when it ceases,
So I shake the clouds
Until she starts to dance.

She relishes the wind,
Maybe because it soothes her spirit.
I dread it when it falters,
So I stir the world to keep it moving
Until she drifts to sleep.

She cherishes the song of birds,
Perhaps because it lulls her gently.
I shiver when their song fades,
So I summon melodies
Until she finds her rest.

She prefers it when I’m not around,
Perhaps because I delight in her annoyance.
Yet I despise her tears,
So I entrap myself in her illusions
Until she breaks me free.

Reason for my love, the question many ask,

It may be the heart, not the one that pumps blood,
But the heart she crafted and taught how to love.

It may be the smile, a smile never learned,
So she taught it to the heart she created.

It may be the bond that never existed,
So she bound it to the heart she made, becoming the anchor herself.

It may be the dream that never took flight,
So she showed it to the heart she formed.

It may be the reason that never emerged,
So she created one and gifted it to the heart she designed.

It may be the heart she stole,
And kept alive, the same one she forged.

It may be the rhythm that never found its way,
Thus she made it beat in time with hers.

So is the reason I love, though whose, I don’t remember.

They told me the Moon is beautiful,
But I didn’t believe, and now they force me to look.

I fixed my gaze on that which they claim is most beautiful.

Confused, I turned back to them: “Why do you say it is beautiful?”

“Why not?” they asked.

Smiling, I answered, “How can something be pretty
If it doesn’t have eyes like hers, eyes that are an eternal prison to me?

How can it be beautiful if it lacks her smile,
A smile so radiant I forget my name every time I see it?

How can it be beautiful if it doesn’t resemble her?”

Laughing, they asked, “What does she look like?”

Smiling, I replied, “I do not remember.”

Those who adorned their thrones with gems and ruled through faith

Lay lifeless, their once-beautiful faces unmoving.

I looked at their faces and felt disgust.

Those whose thrones were made of bones and ruled through fear

Lie at my feet, heads severed, eyes locked with mine.

I looked at them and felt the same disgust.

At last, I had achieved the revenge I longed for.

Then I heard a cry.

Turning, I saw a boy weeping alone
In a sea of corpses, tears feeling from his eye. breaking faith and dissolving fear.

Our eyes met, A single sigh escaped my lips as this was the only way to defeat those who were undefeatable

Now I awaited him seated on the new throne.

And so, the cycle of revenge goes on.

We lived in worlds apart,
Hers, as beautiful as she,
Where every touch brought blossoms,
The most delicate flower to see.

My world was dark and twisted,
Creatures gnawed upon my mind,
Seas in constant, furious motion,
Storms that left no calm behind.

Her skies were bright with color,
Rainbows dancing through the air,
She built walls with doors to heaven,
A paradise beyond compare.

My skies were filled with crawling worms,
Lightning struck with vicious art,
I built walls with no way out,
A prison darker than the heart.

She let them in, her doors ajar,
To share her world of light,
While I stayed locked in torment,
Consumed by endless night,
Too afraid to step outside.

Envious of her world, I hated every part,
But she looked at me, unbothered.

She smiled and took steps toward mine.
Furious, I screamed; the creatures stirred,
Yet her smile never faded, and we were confused,
For my world was abandoned by heaven and hell alike.

Though creatures chewed upon my flesh,
We shared a hate for gods above,
This world was our forsaken home.

But still, she walked, unafraid,
And touched the vicious walls with no doors.
Horrified, we watched the soul, brighter than the sun,
The creatures shielded me, afraid of her light.

With just a touch, my walls began to fall,
And every step she took chased the darkness away.

Now she stood before my vicious companions,
They growled, but she smiled,
And in that smile, they found release,
Transformed into beautiful light.

Alone, we stood. She stepped closer,
And I tried to step back, but my feet betrayed me,
Perhaps I longed for solace too.

She stood radiant before me,
Her amethyst eyes meeting my hateful gaze.
She smiled, and laughter echoed through my world,
A melody calming the seas, and stilling the storms,
Peace now settled upon the land.

Dazed, I watched her smile.
She took my hand, and with grace,
Led me toward her world.

Each step was peaceful, and to my surprise,
A smile broke upon my face.

But as we crossed her walls, my feet betrayed me once more,
And I betrayed her.

Unforgiving as I was, hatred all I knew,
She looked at me, a bit sad,
Yet her smile remained warm as she let go of my hand.

I watched her walk away, each step graceful,
And I turned my back on her world,
Now bound by the chains I had forged.

I gazed upon my barren land,
Closed my eyes again.

But something stirred in my hand—
A small, beautiful plant.

I planted it in my world,
And it grew into a tree, tall and serene.
Now I sleep in its calming shade,
Watching her world from mine.

She told me not to get a cat,
But I couldn’t resist the tiny thing—
That soft, commanding little meow,
Giving orders like a queen.

Her paws dug gently into my chest,
And I couldn’t bear to set her down.
Her voice turned my quiet place
Into a home with every sound.

She clung to me, never letting go,
Until she fell asleep, her breath so light.
The question came—our princess needs a name—
I asked her, she laughed and said I couldn't care right.

Still, a smile broke through,
As she named her Bella, and the little one seemed pleased.
Now Bella ruled my heart,
Alongside the one who gave her name with ease.

But alas, I couldn't care enough,
And I cried when Bella breathed no more.
Broken, something precious lost,
Yet she told me Bella would live as long as she’s remembered.

Now I tell stories to her tiny grave,
Keeping her alive in every word I say.

I pity those who’ve never seen her smile—
For that brief eclipse makes time bow in silence.

I pity those who’ve not glimpsed her eyes,
For within them, a thousand journeys whisper their names.

But when her eyes close—
Even stars forget how to shine.

I pity those who’ve never watched her dance—
For in her steps, one might lose their own story,
Caught in a rhythm that belongs to no one.

I pity those who’ve never felt her ire—
For her anger carves new constellations into the sky,
A flame too holy to extinguish.

I pity those who’ve not held her hand,
For in her touch, she cradles both heaven and earth—
And still, she wonders what it means to be grounded.

And those who’ve never known her love?
Even angels weep at what they cannot claim.

She walks among mortals, unaware
That even angels must one day go home.

But if she’s lost, who am I
To pretend I’ll ever find her

Several stood around the man, old and disfigured,
Who was resisting the embrace of death.

Curious, I inquired of someone:

The man had made a promise,
As ancient as his withered body.

To die only by the hand of the Right Person.
Many came, seeking to learn the name of this person.

Yet the man couldn’t—or wouldn’t—remember.
Thus he endured agony, refusing to accept
Death’s merciful gift.

He bled, his skin rotting,
His hair falling, blood congealed; still, he refused
To embrace death’s release.

Those who cared wept, those who loved pleaded,
Begging him to surrender. For the Right Person
Might never come, or could forget the promise made.

I watched this for a long time and decided to commit the sin.
Now I deliver the gift, by gently strangling him to sleep.

Pretty as she was,
She could be strange at times,
Her laughter, loud whether happy or sad,
As if she didn’t care for the world’s chimes.

Crazy for tea she was,
As much as I was crazy for her.
Sipping, slurping, making sounds,
Once my favorite song to hear.

Clumsy, yet delicate,
Her small hands, so fragile they seemed,
But she'd ruin their beauty, eating like a hamster,
A scene I cherished, like my favorite dream.

Focused when she worked,
Lost in thought, her eyes on the screen,
While mine, unable to turn away,
Were only fixed on her serene.

Yet sometimes she'd catch me,
Annoyed by the way I stared.
"Reason for your smile," she'd ask with a glare,
"You are," I'd reply, but she'd call me a liar, unprepared.

Her songs, they didn’t match
The beauty of her face,
But I listened anyway, smiling,
Lost in her peculiar grace.

She loved feeding dogs,
As I loved watching her care.
I stood guard, content to hear
Her laughter filling the air.

She hated cats, she once confessed,
And yet, resembled them so much,
Still, she named one she wished to see,
A contradiction, tender to touch.

Scared of falling hair,
I teased her, "I’d love you even if you went bald."
Annoyed, she’d glare,
And content, I laughed, so enthralled.

Afraid of the dark, she was,
Tears filling her gentle eyes.
So I took it away, holding it close,
To keep her safe from its lies.

She wished for many things,
While I wished only to see her for eternity.
Unaware of how she changed me,
Leaving a mark on my heart, forever free.

There was once a time when the world was not gray.
When Joy and I were friends.

But now he’s become a nemesis
As a new companion holds my hand–
Whom the world calls Sorrow.

We walk together; he grasps my hand always.
Yet a dagger struck, piercing my friend Sorrow.

The world brightened a little, and I looked in surprise.
Soon another dagger found its mark.

The world grew brighter still, and I tried to pull the dagger
From the chest of my friend named Sorrow.

But someone took my hand; I looked and saw
That Joy was holding it once more.

Then a few more daggers came, piercing Sorrow again.
I looked at the faces—some were friends, one was mother,
And the last I don't remember.