She was a girl with oceans inside her,
waves made of dreams too fragile to hold.
But the world is indifferent —
it pulls, it drowns, it takes,
leaving salt in the wounds it never cared to see.
Her tides fought back,
rising, crashing,
begging to be enough,
until exhaustion felt like peace.
Now she floats,
not sinking,
not swimming,
just there.

The cup of tea
sat cold on the table,
I waited for her,
but the chair remained empty.

The door was slightly ajar,
her scent lingered in the air,
but when I stepped inside,
she was no longer there.

He smiled like it was the last time,
And I knew it, though I didn’t ask why—
The air between us shifted,
Unspoken, like a secret the sky keeps,
Just for a moment, before it fades into silence.

His words lingered like a whisper caught in the wind,
Unspoken yet understood.
We were two fragments of something infinite,
Touching only briefly before slipping through the cracks of what could have been,
But in that brief pause, everything felt complete.

We were almost something—
almost a story,
almost a memory,
almost a beginning that never began.

It’s funny how “almost”
can hurt more than “never,”
because at least “never”
doesn’t pretend it had a chance.

But we—
we were a heartbeat away
from being real,
and sometimes,
that’s the loudest echo of all.

The storm and the calm
In the depths of your mind, emotions collide,
A sea of thoughts, nowhere to hide.
You feel with a fire, burning so bright,
A heart full of dreams that take flight at night.

You walk through the world like a poem in the rain,
With a soul that’s both gentle and full of pain.
Lost in the moments that only you see,
A dreamer, a thinker, a heart full of plea.

You stare at the stars with questions untold,
Hoping one day, your story unfolds.
A smile hides the storm you can't control,
But still, you move forward, heart and soul.

You hold on to hope, though it feels like a chase,
In a world that moves fast, you set your own pace.
With every glance, with every thought,
You write a new chapter, lessons hard-fought.

You are the storm and the calm in between,
A story unwritten, yet clearly seen.
And though you may wonder where this road bends,
Remember, it’s you who gets to write the end.

It’s the tranquility
I longed to be drowned in,
Even if I suffocate,
I’d know it leapt from what I’d become—
A monster to myself.

Even if I drown in desolation,
There’s still life in the stillness,
The quiet joy in my plea,
A glimpse of what I could have been,
If only I had not been my own monster.

But even monsters can unlearn,
Can find grace in their scars,
So I'll rise from the silence,
With whispers of who I’ll become.

I have nothing of you
except your face in the dark,
your voice in the silence,
your words echoing in my mind.

I have nothing of you
except your smile in sorrow,
your soul in my essence,
and you—always you—
living in every corner of my heart.