Didn’t I tell you, baby
No one could ever love you like I do?
Didn’t I tell you, baby
You were my world, my sky so blue?
Didn’t I tell you, baby
A million times, I love you?
Didn’t I tell you, baby
You reigned in my heart, my queen so true?
Didn’t I tell you, baby…
But still, you chose to walk away
To chase what they now call self-love.
It didn’t bloom like you hoped, did it?
And now, after breaking my heart,
You turn to come back.
Forgive me…
For taking back my vulnerabilities.
They were too sacred to leave unguarded.
And now, I think I’ll keep them.
True.

"Behind every successful man, there is a woman."
To which George Bernard Shaw, with his cutting wit, replied:
"Yes—but the man would be greater without her."
And I?
I say this:
"I do not conquer her
I submit…
like a sinner to the sweetness
of sin,
drenched in its lust,
lost in its pleasure."

They didn’t say goodbye to me,
They never saw the pleading in my eyes.
They left… they left…
And left me cradling silence, my dear.

They walked away to distant lands,
And I was left, a soul unmanned.

My love was still so young,
It hadn't bloomed or sung.
It never had its chance to breathe,
To kiss, to laugh, or to believe.

Yet they’re the ones who frown and cry,
Though I’m the one left wondering why.

How lucky are the envious and they slept,
While we, the broken-hearted, wept.
They slept in peace the night they tore us apart,
While my tears baptized my hollow heart.

No matter how the days may stretch or bend,
Their image in my mind won’t end.
They remain, more precious than the precious,
A weight more aching than the relentless.

Love sold me out,
And the cheap ones bought me.

Ooh, man
the cheating woman plays with fire,
but it is only smoke she leaves behind.

The maiden dreams of a knight on a white steed,
riding to crown her longing.

The widow weeps for dreams
she lost too soon
or never dared to chase.

But the married woman...
She is a flame kept quiet too long.
She burns to fulfil her hidden dreams,
and she will give you
much
without shame,
without measure.

So choose wisely, man.
And if you must sin
at least enjoy it.

Love in its fullness comes but twice: first, in the mirror of desire; second, in the ruin of illusion.

Why won’t you stop
shut up,
or even die?
Why must you speak
in words just as cruel,
just as useless
as the old path I swore to leave?
Oh God
**** my hand,
**** my mind,
or please...
**** my pen.
I’ve thrown you a thousand times,
but like a phoenix
you always return,
refusing to burn,
refusing to die.
I’m done with you, Pen.
Your ink is endless pain.
No more of you
in my realm.
We’re finished.
Today.
My pen looked at me with a snaky eye,
and whispered
I only speak
because you never could.

Death is nothing—no endless divide,
I’ve only strode to the other side.
I am still I, and you are still you;
Our love remains, unwavering, true.
Speak my name as you did before,
Soft and sure, as in days of yore.
No need for silence, tears, or guise
Let laughter rise, as in brighter skies.
Remember every shared delight,
The tender jokes, the sparks of light.
Sing my name, let it softly ring,
A living breath, an endless thing.
I linger near, not lost, not gone,
Just past the dawn, beyond the lawn.
No need to yearn—I’ll wait right here,
Until you round life’s bending sphere.
So smile, and dance, and let love show,
For though you cannot see me so,
Our bond still holds, our light won’t fade
I’m just around the bend, delayed.
Delayed.