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Tristan Corey Mar 13
We built our love on fragile ground,
Too young to see, too proud to bow.
We held on tight yet let it fade,
Both too late, both afraid.

We spoke in riddles and taped our cracks,
Got lost in echoes with no way back.
We needed more but feared the cost,
Each unsure of what we’d lost.

The weight of silence and words unsaid
Turned love to pain, to regret instead.
You turned away, but so did I,
Too weary to even question why.

We sought out space and stood alone,
Yet too stubborn to survive on our own.
We fought our battles side by side,
But never once as unified.

You said you left to find your way,
But were you ever going to stay?
Or was it just a softer end,
A way to leave and not pretend?

Was it easier to walk away,
To tell yourself we’d had our day?
Did love dissolve, or did thoughts betray
The part of us that begged to stay?

Or did you outgrow the life we knew,
Or maybe outgrow the me with you?
Yet now I stand, a different man,
The one we needed, heart in hand.

You lit the spark that set me free,
A fire you may never see.
You pulled away but left behind
The very strength I had to find.

You told me once to face my past,
To fight my demons, make this last.
And so I have. I’ve bled, I’ve tried,
But did you ever step inside?

I see it now. You needed space,
But also a hand you wouldn’t take.
You left to find yourself, and yet,
Are you searching? …I forget.

But what if we had stayed, had tried,
Faced the storm instead of hide?
Not just alone or side by side,
But hand in hand, as unified?

Or did we need to break apart,
To lose it all, to face the dark?
To fall so low, to drown in pain,
Before we both could rise again?

You shattered me, but I see now,
I let it happen, still, somehow.
I hope in breaking, we both grew,
Despite leaving behind what we once knew.

If we had fought instead of fled,
Faced our fears, spoke words unsaid,
Would we have found what now is mine,
But shared it, side by side in time?

You shaped the change you’ll never see,
Helped draft the blueprint that’s made me, me.
And though I’ve built what we once dreamed,
It belongs to me alone, it seems.

And now I have the love we lost,
The kind we needed, at any cost.
Yet the cruelest truth remains unspoken:
We never tried, we left it broken.
I do not write to speak,
but to bury,
to press my sorrows into the earth
like seeds I never meant to grow.

Pain does not leave when you ask it to,
it lingers, it echoes, it stabs,
it carves its name into your chest,
Then you whisper it onto a page,
and call it poetry,
or prayer,
or just another night alone.

There are days I drown in the ache,
where my voice cracks under its weight,
where the silence swallows me whole,
and I let it —
I cannot stop it.

But healing is not a sudden bloom,
it is a slow, stubborn crawl,
fingers clawing through the dirt,
digging ever deeper,
pulling out the pieces of who I was
to build the person I am becoming.

And what I’ve learnt is this,
writing is not about expression,
it is about excavation,
and I am still digging
my way towards the sun.
Tristan Corey Feb 19
Heartbreak is not sudden, not swift,
no clean cut, no mercy of final breath,
just a slow unraveling,
a body left breathing when the soul has fled.

The air turns to tar in my lungs,
each breath a memory I can’t exhale.
My ribs are a coffin for the love we buried,
but it still whispers beneath the wood.

The sun keeps rising, indifferent,
mocking my sleepless nights,
and time, that cruel undertaker,
refuses to lay me to rest.

Hunger comes, but I let it pass,
an empty stomach suits an empty heart.
Food turns to dust on my tongue,
nothing tastes like it used to.

I walk among the living, unseen,
a ghost with no death to grieve,
a heart still beating in a hollow chest,
wishing for silence, but cursed to bleed.
The tulips teach me that beauty
can return even after the frost,
The sunflowers remind me to turn
towards the light,
And the forget-me-nots whisper softly
that some things are meant to be remembered,
not lost.
Tristan Corey Feb 12
Für dich bin ich immer da
Es ist nicht Quatsch
Es ist doch klar
Love is like my morning coffee,
dark and deep, yet warm and cozy.
Steam that rises, a soft embrace,
a touch that lingers, in time and place.

First, the scent: rich, inviting,
like caring words with hearts igniting.
A gentle sip, a quiet thrill,
the kind that lingers, slow and still.

Too fast, too hot, it burns the tongue,
like passion’s fire when love is young.
Too cold, too late, and it will fade,
a bitter taste, a love mislaid.

And when it’s gone, the weight is real,
a sluggish step, a lifeless feel.
The world moves on, but not with me,
An exhausted soul, tired, unfree.

But coffee made with care, with grace,
it fills the soul, it sets the pace.
A steady hand, a patient art,
love, like coffee, warms the heart.
Tristan Corey Feb 12
Love is a funny word,
It’s short,
One syllable,
And really quite blunt in the mouth.

Nele — now that’s a word,
Also short, yes, but beautiful.
A song.
I’d play it on repeat,
never getting bored.
Tristan Corey Feb 17
Didn’t I give you everything?
Laid my soul bare, stripped myself to nothing,
Held out my heart in trembling hands,
But would it ever have been enough?

Did I fail in ways I never saw?
Or did you simply stop wanting me,
A shadow you forgot to miss,
A whisper swallowed by the wind?

Still, how can you turn so easily,
Step past my shattered pleas,
Leave me staring down an empty road,
That once held both our footprints?

Take it all – every moment, every breath,
Carry my love like dust on your skin,
Don’t turn to see me break.

I could leave too, if it made you see,
That nothing out there will ever be us,
That what we had was everything,
Is this really the end?

I thought love fought harder than this.

Take it all – every hug, every kiss,
Let me rot in the silence you left behind,
Take it all.

I will bend, I will break,
I will twist myself into something new,
If it means you’ll turn around,
If it means you’ll come home.

But you never asked me to.
You never even looked back.
You left it all, every promise, every dream,
Let me crumble unseen, unheard,

So, go,
Take it all – take the pieces of me,
Take this pain I feel,
Turn away from the wreckage of us
And walk into a life where I do not exist.

Take it all.
Tristan Corey Feb 12
My legs lead,
My feet stone.
I walk this path alone.

My head mischievous,
My heart gullible.
I push on with my trouble.

My heart broken,
My pride lost.
Fighting through life—at what cost?

My pride shattered,  
My hope thin.  
Fighting battles I can’t win.  

My head tired,
My pride gone.
I often struggled on.

My days heavy,
My nights long.
Nowhere felt like I belong.

My hands empty,
My chest tight.
I lost my will to fight.

My legs lead,
My feet stone.
I walked this path alone.

Then came you,
Steady and bright,
Pulling me back, giving me fight.

Your voice steady,
Your touch kind.
You pulled me from my troubled mind.

My steps lighter,
My heart strong.
With you, I’ve found where I belong.

Now with you,
Hand in hand,
Alone, I no longer stand.

My legs steady,
My feet free.
All because you walk with me.
Tristan Corey Mar 14
I lost you in the winter light,
where love unraveled, thread by thread.
The echoes of our quiet fights
still linger where we used to tread.

But heartbreak, like a northern breeze,
can clear the fog, can shift the tide.
And in the wreckage, on my knees,
I found the self I’d cast aside.

Serendipitous, the way it goes,
how time heals and life reappears.
Through loss, I learned what the new me knows:
there’s beauty hidden in the tears.

Now dawn unfolds in softer hues,
the air is light, my soul is free.
I never thought that losing you
would be the way that I’d find me.
Tristan Corey Feb 13
You walk backwards into dusk,  
feet pressing softly into the sand,  
watching gold melt into violet,  
as if the sky itself were slipping  
into something more comfortable.  

I watch you, always watching,  
the way your hair catches the last light,  
how the wind tries to tangle you in its arms—  
but you are already held, already mine,  
moving toward me even as you walk away.  

You are beautiful like this—  
not just in the glow of the setting sun,  
but in every quiet moment in between,  
in the way your laughter lingers like seafoam,  
in the way your eyes hold the horizon,  
as if you could keep this moment from fading away.
To me, you are the sunset,  
the tide, the sky, its endless depth—  
and I could spend forever watching you.  

Isn’t love like this?  
Moving forward while looking back,  
trusting what’s ahead, knowing what’s behind—  
our footprints stretching side by side,  
even when the tide comes to claim them.  

We walk like this through life,  
not always seeing the road before us,  
but stepping in time, heart to heart,  
toward something we don’t need to name,  
because it is already ours.
Tristan Corey Feb 14
You walk backwards from the setting sun,
barefoot in the fading gold,
watching light dissolve to dusk,
no secrets left untold.

The evening wind plays with your hair,
soft as whispers never said.
I watch you moving through the light,
with every step I too tread.

The golden glow clings to your skin,
paints you in its embered hue,
a fleeting masterpiece of fire,
Your beauty bathed in red-shifting blue.

I love you in this quiet hour,
when day and night stand hand in hand.
As you walk backwards from the light,
And I watch you from where I stand.
Tristan Corey Feb 13
A linden sways in Berlin’s air,
soft and still, yet drifting where
it once had danced in golden light,
now falling, fading out of sight.

Once it stood, so strong, so free,
born of spring’s sweet memory.
Once it warmed in summer’s grace,
now autumn’s breath has torn its place.

Yet long before the cold winds came,
I was the storm, I bore the rain.
I dimmed your light, I broke your soul,
never knowing the weight, the toll.

Your roots, once deep, began to fade,
drowned in shadows my heart had made.
And though I never wished you pain,
my weight was yours to bear in vain.

And as our leaves drift to the ground,
we stand as ghosts, lost, unfound.
For you, my light, my heart, my stay,
are gone—and all is cold and grey.

Love once held me close to you,
like roots that held my world in view.
But without you, what remains?
An empty vessel, a soul in chains.

So now I call the wind once more,
to bear us where no sorrows soar,
to dance again, then set us free,
a fleeting breath upon the sea.

Through restless tides and whispering trees,
it sings of loss, it hums of peace,
it stirs my soul, it beats my mind,
then leaves no trace of us behind.

Yet know this truth, to most unknown—
leaves will never die alone.
They follow where the love is blown.
Tristan Corey Feb 15
There is a hole in my heart,
Right where you used to be—
A you-shaped emptiness,
And it ****** hurts.

But don’t worry,
I’ll take care of that hole,
And when you’re ready – I hope you’ll be ready –
My heart will still be here, waiting for you.

I’ll endure this sharp suffering,
The physical pain of your leaving.
Nobody warned me it would hurt this much.
But it will all be worth it if you come back.

And if you return,
You can make my heart,
With its you-shaped hole,
whole again.

— The End —