I did not bloom for you.

I wasn’t planted with hope of a hand like yours

to pluck what I became.



I was here.

Growing in a quiet grove,

on the edge of the unseen—

roots tangled in silence,

leaves turned to a sun I thought only I could feel.



You came like weather.

Not loud,

but felt.

A shift in the light.

A question in the wind.



I didn’t call to you.

But still,

you found me.



I watched you stumble in—

mouth stained from strange fruits,

eyes glazed from sweetness that lied.

And I knew you were not lost.

You were done.



Done with wandering.

Done with feasting on ache.

Done with mistaking hunger for worth.



You looked at me like I was something

you’d dreamed once and forgotten.

Like tasting me

woke up something ancient in you.



And it did in me, too.



Because I didn’t know I was waiting—

not for you,

but for recognition.

For a mouth that didn’t devour,

but asked.

For hands that didn’t harvest,

but listened.



And when you bit into me,

you didn’t praise.

You closed your eyes

and let silence say it.



That was the moment.



No music.

No miracle.



Just two beings

who didn’t know they were searching

until they stopped.



Now here we are.



Still.

Rooted.

Fed.



Not written in the stars—

but grown in the dirt,

together.

If                               You  

Don’t             Stand

For

Something

You        Will

Fall                  For

Every                         Thing

We can’t
reach out
and grab
the past
Life in the moment
never last
We have to
remember
The
good times
Retelling them
Keeps them alive
Truly great stories
Are conveyed in
The perfect time
memorable
rhyme

My whole life,
I have been living within
The limitations.
A paint by the number,
No alterations.
My life,
Stunted
By the ones I loved.
Silence and obedience,
Their only form of love.
They made that truth
Run deep in my blood.
For in the silence,
They could prey
On my innocent love.
Mum's the only phrase
To keep their monsters at bay.
So I stayed silent.
I stayed compliant.
For years,
I found solace in the quiet.
And yet slowly
My courage peeked its head,
Became one with the paper,
And my story not only wept,
It bled.
It bled the truth,
With the words from my pen.
Unlimited by words,
I began.
I wrote of all my pain,
All the hate.
I wrote of my secret loves
And greatest shames.
With the pen I am a giant.
No reason to hide it.
With my words,
I become unlimited.
With my words,
A new world can begin.
A world of my own
Where the silence ends
And my life begins.