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Please break my heart
So I don't have to break yours
I'd rather feel all that pain
Than be the one to make you endure

Please break my heart
So I can leave yours intact
I'd rather be haunted
Than have to hear you react

Please break my heart
So I can live with my decision
I'd rather lose all my tears
Than have tears disrupt your vision

Please break my heart
So I'm not the one serving time
Id rather feel completely caged
Than be the one to commit this crime

Please break my heart
So I can make sure you're OK
I'd rather lose my voice
Than listen to all you might say

This request might seem odd
I ask for you to do the downing
But if we're both stuck in this storm together
I'd rather be the one drowning
Francis has just joined
the dead Pope society.

Eternal sunshine of the
spotless mind. Alexander!
My reflection in a lake
seems so much more real to me.

So much beneath the surface
that no one ever sees.

But what is the reality,
Which one is real?

The Reflection you see,
or what lies beneath!
A bit of Black.
A piece of Scarlet.
There's no turning back.
When I place my rings upon you
nothing is beyond my grasp.
Each rotate to became the main body of it.
In place of angels
the hand of friendship
forms a pattern on the wall.
It's there to remind us
we're all sitting targets.
You are the warmth in the serenity I never drank,
the final page of a novel I hold off reading
just to stretch the story one more night.
You are the lullaby I hummed when I forgot the lyrics
but remember the ache.

I think I’ve been writing to you in everything—
in the way I halt at fullstops
Because I'm afraid
there's always an end from a beginning
I do not know the color of your eyes,
but I know how they’ll light up when you speak of things you love.
I haven’t felt your hand in mine,
but I know how I’ll memorize the curve of your thumb
like it’s punctuation—
a comma in the sentence of my life
that says: pause here. something beautiful is coming.

If you’re wondering,
yes—
I’ve saved you all the best lines.
The ones that never made it into poems
because they were too soft, too sacred, too soon.
They live folded in my chest
like notes passed under desks in classrooms of longing.
I don’t send them,
because I want to give them to you in person—
when we are older,
and ready,
and brave enough to admit we were always meant to find each other
in a world full of almosts.

And when you arrive—
with your quiet eyes and your laugh that tastes like home,
don’t be surprised if I cry.
Not because I am sad,
but because it is a kind of grief
to wait so long for a face you already loved
in every stranger that almost looked like you.

To you, whom I haven’t met yet—
come slowly,
but come.
This heart has been keeping time in poetry,
and every line
has always led me to you.


Erennwrites
"Wherever you are in the world, I'll search for you."
Inspired by the Anime film, Your Name❤️
i'm sitting in a corner,
blue as a flower,
saying a prayer.

that room

I ve written
about that room, above the bar, often.
that there were shadows,
no windows,
but I really don't remember?
window, no window?

but whenever i tried to look up
there was the angry sky
chasing hope around narrow streets          

and those bits and ripples
of rain long asleep

casting shadows across
windows distant,
down my window pane.

do you ever think of me?

(written while sitting in a dark room
starring into a rain splashed window).
Don't say
  you wish to be a bird
  it's too easy
  to be shot at!
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