In the empire of my ribs,  
you are the only ruler.  
No gates, no walls—  
just endless streets  
whispering your name.

-faiza

as the bullet pierces through
the love for you spills out too
thoughts unsaid
prays unheard
what drips from my writs once was love.

It doesn’t stay neat—
nothing does.
Not the room.
Not the mind.
Not the feelings
I have for you.

I spill everything out—
ink, blood, tears—
whatever I hold
too tight.

Even the rain
trips over itself,
but you call it
beautiful—
you always do.