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Mary Huxley May 24
You close to me
But not as close as i want you to be
I lost myself while trying to love you
Mary Huxley Apr 1
I miss those days when we had those funny girl talks,
Gossip about everything and anything,
Laughed and judged every creature that came our way,
Talk about how rich we wanted to be,
Our goals and dreams,
And where we wanted to be.

Then life took a turn,
A sudden turn none of us expected,
You changed how my name was saved in your phone ,
From girlfriend with heart emoji to my bare surname,
When I saw that my heart broke into pieces,
It's funny how you act as if everything is okay.

You smile at me, walk with me, laugh with me,
Pretend as if everything is OK,
But you clearly knew something is not right,
Or should I let bygones be bygones?

The memories we made are like precious gems,
Glistening in the sunlight of our minds,
Reminding me of all the joy we shared,
And all the love that we left behind.

So here's to those days and all the ones to come,
May we always find our way back to each other,
And keep the magic of our friendship alive forever.
I wrote this poem two years ago.
My friend at the time was distanced
We do talk but not like before
It's safe to say it was a one way friendship
I loved her but she loved what I offered instead of me.
It took months for me  to see that
Mary Huxley May 18
The first time you saw me,
your eyes lingered,
not just a glance,
but something softer, deeper.
For a moment,
I let myself believe
that maybe you felt it too.

I move through the world,
but when you're near,
it feels like I'm walking on glass,
like one wrong step
could shatter the silence between us.

I wonder if you notice
the way my breath stills,
the way my hands hesitate,
how I steal moments
just to look at you.

You don’t know,
and maybe you never will.
Because some love stays in the quiet,
burning softly,
never spoken,
never heard.

We were never meant to be,
but in another life,
maybe
just maybe
your eyes would have lingered
a little longer.
Mary Huxley Apr 2
If love is fire, then let me burn,
Let my ribs be ash, let my veins unlearn
The quiet of days before you came,
Before my blood had learned your name.

If love is ruin, then I shall fall,
Let towers of pride be nothing at all.
For what is a kingdom, what is a throne,
If the heart still wanders, forever alone?

But if love is poison, then let it be sweet,
A venom I drink, a fate I greet.
For better a death on your fevered lips
Than a thousand lives without your kiss.

Yet love is neither—no fire nor fate,
Not tender mercy, nor cruel weight.
It is the hand that wounds and mends,
A road that bends but never ends.
This poem marks the beginning of The Eternal Flame series, where love is not a soft, gentle thing but a force—intense, consuming, and everlasting. Each poem in this collection explores the darker, more passionate side of love that refuses to fade, even when it hurts. Through fire and shadows, the heart will burn, and the soul will yearn, in a love that is both a blessing and a curse. Welcome to a journey where desire never dies, and neither does the pain that sometimes comes with it.
Mary Huxley May 23
I don’t know if I want him
or if I just miss the way it used to feel.
He says he can’t give me everything,
and maybe that’s the only thing real.

But my chest tightens in silence,
my heart cries in its own tongue,
Logic sits beside me calmly,
while emotion beats its drum.

I nod like I agree with him,
but still I check my phone.
Somewhere between what’s healthy
and not wanting to be alone.

So I sit with this confusion,
not ready to let it go.
Maybe love isn’t always answers,
sometimes it’s just letting it flow.
In between
Mary Huxley May 25
I try not to call.
We’re not together anymore,
but some nights,
my heart forgets.
It still waits
for your name to light up my screen.
I let the silence hold me—
because calling
would mean admitting
I still care.
Mary Huxley Aug 2024
In a world of whispers and dreams,
Where the moon dances in silver streams,
Hearts beat in rhythm, a gentle song,
In the twilight where we belong.

Underneath the starlit sky so vast,
Moments cherished, never surpassed,
In your eyes, a universe I see,
Together, forever wild and free.

Where love resides in the chambers of the heart,
Your name still beeps,
You're my happy place
Mary Huxley Feb 23
I carved your name in the stars, but the dawn stole their light.
I whispered your name to the moon, but it faded into the night.
So I etched your name in my soul, where time cannot erase,
A love so deep, eternal, in its quiet, sacred place.
Mary Huxley Apr 2
Tell me, my love, where the wind shall sleep
When the stars have spilled into the deep,
When time itself forgets its name,
And lovers dance in deathless flame.

Shall I carve your name upon the sky,
So moons may blush as they drift by?
Or weave your breath into the sea,
That every wave may sigh of thee?

If all the world should turn to stone,
And silence claim each solemn throne,
Still in my blood your voice would ring,
Still in my bones your touch would sing.

I loved you once before my birth,
Before the sun had kissed the earth.
And when the dusk devours the light,
I'll love you past the end of night.
Mary Huxley Apr 23
Some days, I smile and I don’t know why,
Other days, I sit and just let time slide by.
Coffee gets cold, texts go unread,
Thoughts spinning circles inside my head.

Some days, I win little fights with my doubt,
Other days, I barely crawl out.
But I breathe, I try, I take one more stride
And that, for today, is enough on my side.
Mary Huxley Apr 16
Some days I laugh,
other days I disappear.
Both are parts of healing,
I’ve learned not to fear
If
Mary Huxley Mar 20
If
If I were to give you my all, would you accept?
If I were to mold you a world of your desire,
Would you live in it?
If I were to give you half of my kingdom, would you be my queen?
If I were to give you a piece of heaven, would you be my peace?

Just if.
There is no one so precious —
Just no one.
I have seen all,
But no one caught my sight as you did.
I can’t blame my heart for loving you,
Neither can I blame my mind for thinking about you.

You are a rare gem,
Your glistening eyes full of glam.
I’d die for you if I had to;
Making you mine is a must —
It’s a deed that must be done.

Would you say yes to my proposal?
Would you be the flower in my vineyard?
Would you be that lily in my valley?

If... Just if...
Would you complete me?
Mary Huxley Mar 2
If you return,
do not knock,
the door has memorized your hands.

If you leave,
do not turn back,
the wind carries only forward.
Mary Huxley Apr 17
I grieve for my soul,
For the number of times I let people walk over it,
I grieve for my heart,
For letting people in ,
I grieve for myself,
For allowing all the garbage —
The hateful disposal,
To get inside of me,
I grieve...
Yes ,I do ,
With great pain
You begged him to stay,
because your heart wasn’t ready to break.
You held on,
thinking love could fix what was already gone.

He begged you to let him go,
not out of anger,
but because he had already left in his heart.
He was tired—
of pretending, of holding back the goodbye.

You cried,
hoping your tears would change his mind.
But he sighed,
because he had no more words to give.

And in that quiet moment,
you both knew:
loving someone
doesn’t always mean they’ll stay.
Mary Huxley May 23
I feared the ache of heartbreak,
so I locked my heart tight,
but love is persistent,
it knocked until I gave in.

He chased me with patience,
waited through my silence,
and when I finally said yes,
he became mine.

But now he steps back,
not with anger,
just the quiet withdrawal
of someone unsure.

Was it fear that gripped him?
Or a laziness to fight for love?
Because if you ask me—
I still want him.

Not just the memory,
not just the comfort.
I want him,
a better him,
a willing him.

Maybe in another universe,
he stays.
Maybe there, he chooses me
again and again—
not out of need,
but because he can’t imagine
life otherwise.

And though I ache,
and though he may never look back—
I don’t want someone new.
I just want him.
Mary Huxley May 22
I held the silence in my chest,
But my heart still beats your name
Even as you step away,
My love for you remains.

If distance writes a quiet song,
I hope it hums of me and you.
I'm not done loving, not just yet,
I still believe in us too.
Heartbreak 💔
Mary Huxley Apr 9
People like me
don’t speak much—
we read silence
like it’s scripture,
watching the way shadows fall
on people’s faces
when truth gets too loud.

I learned early
that softness
gets mistaken
for weakness,
and honesty
for cruelty.

So I became
a quiet kind of storm—
rage in my ribs,
kindness in my palms,
resentment
sitting neatly behind my teeth.

Some days I’m tired
of pretending I don’t feel it all.
Of swallowing the world
just to keep peace
with people who
would never carry
a piece of me.

But I still stay quiet.
Because people like me
don’t speak much.
We bleed in poems.
Mary Huxley May 30
It’s not the heartbreak that screams.
It’s the silence that follows.
The way someone becomes a stranger
while their memories still live in your chest.
How they laugh with others the way they used to with you—
and you pretend it doesn’t sting.
You act okay.
You smile.
But inside, you're mourning someone who’s still alive,
just no longer yours.
Mary Huxley Mar 5
I carry worlds within my chest,
silent storms I don’t confess.
A smile, a nod,a quiet plea,
hoping someone sees through me.
Mary Huxley Apr 3
The moon has seen everything,
but it never speaks.
It just lingers—
half-lit, half-lost,
dragging tides and secrets in its wake.

I asked it once,
"Did he ever mean it?"
"Will the ache dissolve like salt in water?"
"Why do I still dream in his voice?"
The moon only blinked,
a quiet refusal wrapped in silver.

Nights like this,
I fold myself into the dark,
press my ear against the silence,
listening for answers
that do not come.

Maybe love is just a sky full of questions.
Maybe healing is learning
to stop waiting for the moon to reply.
Mary Huxley Apr 20
When I was small, I thought the stars
Were holes in heaven, not so far.
I used to dream with eyes so wide,
Believing magic never died.

I laughed at rain and danced with wind,
Every scar could always mend.
The world was big, but I was bold—
A heart so young, a hand to hold.

But growing up can steal the spark,
Replace bright skies with shades of dark.
You learn the truth, you feel the ache,
You see the smiles that people fake.

Still deep inside, that child remains,
Running wild in summer rains.
Whispers soft behind the noise—
The one who still believes in joys.

So if you’re lost or feeling low,
Just find the you from years ago.
Hold their hand and don’t let go—
They'll guide you home. They always know.
Mary Huxley Apr 14
I wore his vest,
trading stained threads
for something that smelled
just like him.

Bare legs, quiet room—
his eyes found mine,
and I swear,
time leaned in to listen.

"Just forehead kisses,"
I whispered once,
twice—
trying to stay soft
when my heart wasn’t.

But he looked at me
like I was still his,
like the ache between us
wasn’t ready to end.

His hands at my waist,
his breath on my cheek,
the silence hummed,
sweet and weak—

And then,
before goodbye could speak…
I kissed him—
once,
long,
slow,
like we forgot what leaving meant.
Mary Huxley Apr 14
You woke,
not knowing your name—
only the weight of breath
and the pull of light.

Before mirrors,
before clocks,
before the word you—
what were you?
And who decided
that was enough?

— The End —