There’s a hunger in me that whispers your name,  
It’s hard to resist you, harder still to stay,  
An ache that grows each time you look away.  
I reach for you, but you drift like smoke,  
A dream I hold to but never evoke.  

Every day, I tell myself to let go,  
Yet in the silence, your presence grows.
Your silence echoes, cold and clear,  
The world feels like it’s tied to you  
Every sound, every scent, every view.  

I want to turn away, find peace, be free,  
But you’ve become a part of me.  
My heart, unruly, beats in tune  
With a love that’s bound to fall too soon.  

Invisible in your line of sight,  
Yet drawn to you with all my might.  
To love you feels like chasing air  
Impossible, yet I’m always there.  
Yet still, I burn with your unspoken name.

He used to look at me,  
eyes meeting mine like secret words,  
quietly folding over our small world.  
A laugh, a smile,  
a glance that lingered just a little longer,  
like we were caught in a whispered story.

But now there’s nothing.  
Days pass like a dimming pulse.  
No messages, no mentions,  
just the cold echo of everything left unsaid.  
The warmth once here has slipped away,  
like it never even happened,  
a memory erased before it had the chance to stay.

I wonder if I imagined it,  
if the closeness was just a flicker in the dark.  
He’s here and gone, like a fading spark.  
And though I wish it would light again,  
I wait in silence, shadows,  
just the ache of where he’d been.

You looked through me,  
like there was something you saw,  
just ours, something alive in the spaces between.  
A soft spark, a language in glances,  
the way your smile felt like a hand to hold.

But now it's silence, sharp and sure.  
Days pass, but there's nothing from you  
just the cold weight of words unsaid.  
Not a call, not a trace, not a flicker,  
like you vanished with all that warmth.

Did I misread it all?  
Was it a story I made alone?  
Or did you simply forget  
to hold onto something small and real?  
Here I am, still feeling you there,  
a quiet that only I hear.

If you asked me what I like about you,  
I’d say something simple, like, “your humor.“

Because saying,  
“I love how deep and emotional your eyes are,  
how they pull me in,  
make me want to uncover the depths of your thoughts,  
the words you’re too afraid to speak,”  
would be too much, wouldn’t it?  

Or admitting,  
“I love your lips,  
how every word they form  
makes me imagine their touch,  
the way they’d feel  
tracing paths across my skin,”  
wouldn’t that be even stranger?  

So instead,  
I settle for “your humor,”  
because it’s safer  
than confessing the truth.

“The eyes never lie,” they claim,  
But they don’t know you, they don’t know your game.  
I thought I saw truth in the way you’d stare,  
A spark, a feeling that we both shared.  

But those eyes were a mask, a clever disguise,  
Hiding the truth behind practiced lies.  
How can you be so cold, so hollow,  
One day close, the next too far to follow?  

You looked at me like I meant something,  
Then turned away as if I was nothing.  
A flicker of hope you let burn bright,  
Only to vanish, swallowed by night.  

You are nothing but a liar in disguise,  
A heart dressed up in empty eyes.  
They say the eyes can’t deceive or betray
But yours turned my truth into shades of gray.

Love is a gamble, you win or you lose,
No in-between, just painful choices to choose.
And if there were, she wasn’t really playing,
Just drifting along, while his heart kept swaying.

She thinks love’s beautiful, yet it cuts like a knife,
She’s sick of never being loved, or not loving enough,
Of feeling like she’s broken, too hard, too tough.

She wonders if it’s worth staying another day.
She’s tired of hurting, tired of the fight,
Her mind is a war that rages at night.

She dreams of letting it go, of silence,
Of peace, from the chaos she knows.
She’s sick of the ache that swallows her whole,
Of feeling like love is something she’ll never control.

Life is ******, it’s truly a mess,  
I mean you’d have to be twisted to love right?
You’re caught in a game that never ends.  
its a cycle almost clinical

Love is a gamble, its either you win or you lose,  
There’s no in-between, just choices to choose.  
And if there were, you weren’t really playing,  
Just drifting along, while the real hearts are swaying.  

As a teen, you’re vulnerable, naive,  
Chasing a dream that’s hard to believe.  
Love can be beautiful, yet it cuts like a knife,  
It’s a dangerous dance, full of chaos

Dive in too deep, and you’ll feel the sting,  
Love is nothing but lies, wrapped in a ring.  
It pulls you in close, then pushes away,  
A truth in the games that we play.

Today, I stop loving you.  
Today, I move on
that's what I told myself.  

But the truth sticks,  
like gum on my shoe,  
like your name in my throat.  

I realize now,  
you might not love me,  
and if you do,  
the way you show it is twisted,  
messed up.  

You don’t love me.  
I know that now.  
Not after the poem you showed me,  
the one that looked like love,  
but wasn’t.  

I felt hurt  
because I loved you.  
The poem I shared?  
That was about you.  
But I never said it.  

Now my friends tease me.  
Every time he sees me,  
he screams your name,  
and my heart tightens.  
It reminds me
I still love you.

I wish I didn’t care.  
I wish I didn’t care so much.  
I wish I didn’t care at all.  

I wish  
I wish for too many things.  
Is it because I wish too much?  
Or because I care too much,  
Feel too much,  
Fall too much?  

Am I wrong for that?  
Was my mold broken  
When they were making me?  
Or am I just broken?  

Maybe I wasn’t meant to fit,  
Wasn’t meant to bend or blend.  
Maybe I was made to feel it all—  
Every edge, every crack,  
Every shattering,  
Every stitch pulling me back.  

If my mold was broken,  
Then I’m not a mistake.  
I’m just something  
The world wasn’t ready to make.