I thought I was the closest
Not just near in distance...  I mean in essence
in meaning
The echo their soul called out
when silence grew loud
The secret they’d whisper
when the world turned too proud
The soft place... the hush
the first thought at dusk

The one they'd whisper to when the light's dimmed
Their confession booth when guilt got grim
Their calm before storms
Their safe before harm
Their anchor; their breath  not just a charm
I didn’t just guess this
They made it seem like scripture; written on skin

The voice they’d search for in chaos
The map to clarity when they got lost
The voice that threaded peace into panic;
Who'd speak light into their havoc;
Call their name and the world would slow
I was the calm within their undertow

The face that anchored their peace
Where they’d find laughter; where anxieties cease
The picture they’d hold when they closed their eyes;
The only truth beneath a thousand lies
I believed I was their favorite view;
Their mirror; their muse; their ever-true

A sacred name resting on the cushion of their heartbeat
Pronounced with softness; like a hymn incomplete
I swore I lived in the folds of their chest
Right between yesterday’s pain and tomorrow’s rest
I wasn’t just in love; I thought I was loved
An answered prayer; a gift sent from above

I thought I was it
Not a maybe; not a placeholder
Not just a name on a long list
But the name... the highlight... the gold ink on their wrist
And I wore that belief like a badge; so sure
Even framed my worth in how they adored

Not out of arrogance
Not vanity
But because love; when consistent... feels like clarity
And they were consistent  or so it seemed
Even silence between us felt like a dream
The quiet was warm; not distant or mean
I mean; how could I doubt what felt so serene

But out of how gently they laughed at my jokes
As if every punchline gave them hope
How they smiled before I even spoke
And waited; like I was always worth the quote
Out of how they lingered when they said my name
Like each syllable had its own flame

How they held my hand like the world might end if they let go
As if letting go meant losing the glow
As if I was both the moment and the memory
Both the journey and the remedy
I thought I was the sun in their orbit
And maybe I was
Until the shadow crept in and distorted it

So I made a home in their heart
Built it brick by brick; every word a part
Furnished it with trust
Hung paintings of moments
Framed laughter in the corners
Lit candles of atonement

But then...
There came a day
A ripple in the pattern
A crack in the clay
A small shift  like a cough in a quiet theatre
Something out of place
Like a voice breaking in a prayer

An emergency
A silence
A crossroad
A dance with absence no one foretold
And in the middle of their storm
When lightning struck; and winds took form
They reached for someone else

Not me
Not the hand they once claimed to need
Not the voice that calmed them in grief
Not the warmth they called home
Not the arms they used to run toward when cold
No  not me
Not the version I swore was gold

They told the news to someone else first
They let them hear the tremble; the burst
They cried in someone else’s arms
They curled up in a different calm
They needed warmth
and mine wasn’t the fire they sought

That’s when I learned
Love can be loud and still lie
It can shine like a sun before it says goodbye
Spotlights lie
They burn bright and blind
Until you can't see you're not centerstage at all

I thought I was the dearest
But I was just there
Not the safe place
Not the sanctuary
Just; background comfort
The one you forget when your real one's back
A season; A chapter; A scenic track
And it took all of me not to scream into the sky
"Was it all pretence? Was I just nearby?"

I smiled through the fracture
Held back the flood
Walked through the ruins wearing their love like mud
Swallowed the lesson like bitter medicine
Sometimes; the one you’d leap for
Wouldn’t even call your name in the fall

And that’s the cruelty of assumption
To believe you're their person
Only to learn
You're just a person

It took from me
Chipped away bit by bit
Drained me… well, almost completely.
Yes, I’m not whole
But I’m still art

Cracked canvas
Worn edges
Colors bled into corners
Where joy used to sleep

They see the ruin
But miss the strokes
They touch the scars
But not the story

I am the gallery of everything I survived
Every tear; a brushstroke
Every silence; a signature
Every goodbye; an unfinished line

No, I’m not whole
But wholeness was never the goal
I was meant to be a masterpiece of endurance
A mosaic of moments that didn’t **** me

So let them stare
Let them call it pain
I call it process

I call it proof
That beauty lives
Even in what’s been broken

Have you ever been drained
To the point you'd feel...
It's time to call a quit
And bid this lonesome world goodbye
But your soul won't leave things be
It keeps holding on to dear life
Like it's some sort of sacred myth
Etched in the bone of strife

When breathing feels like debt
And peace becomes a tease
Your body is a wrecked cassette
Playing pain on endless lease
The walls whisper your nam
But silence is what replies
You're tired of playing this game
Of truth buried beneath bright lies

You close your eyes, not to rest
But to wonder what death might mean
Would it feel like sleep undressed?
Or a dream too raw and clean?
But life grips you by the throat
Not letting go, not yet
And though you drift like a sinking boat
You're still anchored by regret

You tried to speak...
But the words won’t come out.
They curl in your chest like smoke,
choking the shout.
Air barely escapes your lungs,
as if silence has sewn
your ribs into a cage
and named it home.

You’re drowning.
But not in oceans; in open rooms.
The ceiling blinks like hospital moons.
Water floods where your voice gave out,
filling the hollow your hope once sprouted.

You always thought
you wanted to die.
But when your fingers slipped,
you clawed at life.
And that’s when truth
pulled up a chair…
Death only teaches
when it’s already there.

It stared you down,
with hollow eyes,
and you saw your soul
no disguise.
It didn’t scream...
It didn’t rage...
It ust watched,
as you turned the page.

You cut
but never too deep.
Enough to feel,
but not enough to sleep.
The sting was real,
but fleeting, brief
a substitute...
for silent grief.

The pain scared you,
but not as much
as the people outside,
the words, the touch
the weight of being
"okay" each day,
the lies you whispered
when they'd say...
"Are you fine?"
"Are you alright?"
And you’d just nod,
too tired to fight.

You took the pills
a calculated flood,
enough to flirt
but not to flood.
They should've carried you...
to quiet ends,
but only wheeled you
to white-lit bends.

Oh, not again
It's a hospital bed,
not a deathbed call.
Machines that beep,
white coats in the hall.
Oh, I guess....
the pills didn't work
and next you've got
the bitter taste...
of “not quite gone,”
and questions like,
"What went wrong?"

You’ve written more goodbyes poems...
than the years you’ve lived.
Each one stained...
with all you give.
Some you burned,
some you hid,
some just sat
where you never did.

Yet you write them still,
as if each word bleeds,
hoping one day
your ink recedes.
That the pen runs dry,
and with its breath
you vanish softly,
into death.

But here's the truth
you’ve come to pen
You’re here. You’re cracked.
But not the end.
And maybe pain
has taught you more
than silence ever did before.

So you write
not to say goodbye…
But to empty the scream
you’ve held inside.
To bleed on paper,
not your skin,
To let the healing
slowly begin.

And if someday
the ink runs out
You’ll hold the page,
not fear, not doubt.
Because every line
that you have written,
proves you're still here.
Still fighting.
Still bitten
by the ache
but still breathing.
Still broken
but still believing.

They ask me why I never sleep
Why shadows in my silence creep
But how do you explain the ache
When every breath you take might break

I carry nights without a name
A heavy hush; a quiet flame
My ribs hold storms I never speak
My soul is loud; my voice is weak

These tears aren’t tears; they’re floods of thought
Of battles fought and lessons taught
Of dreams I dressed in morning light
Now buried deep in endless night

They see the smile cos' I wear it well
A mask I've forged in private hell
But joy’s a suit I never fit
I grew up fast; need no one to babysit

I learned to write what I can’t say
To pen the pain and walk away
My heart’s a book no one has read
Each page a wound I’ve left unsaid

I’ve walked through years with hollow feet
And made my peace with incomplete
The world moves on; I stay behind
A ghost with memories on rewind

Why does it hurt to simply feel?
Why do my scars refuse to heal?
Why is my chest a thunder dome
A place of storms I call my home?

I cry at night; but not aloud
The dark has learned to hold me proud
While others sleep in soft repose
I bleed in verse that no one knows

This isn’t just a broken heart
It’s rusted dreams and ripped apart
It’s years of holding in the rain
And wondering if I’ll heal again

They said I should try falling in love
But look at my scars; see what it made me become
“Love,” they say, “makes the world go on and on”
Yet I bled poems in silence until dawn

Hmm...
What do they think I am?
A flicker? A flame? Some sacrificial lamb?
Oh; A whisper in their wicked plan?
Who they think I be… some lesser man?

See; I'm neither that; neither this
I'm the howl inside that deep abyss
And if that means I must resist
I'll let the world burn bit by bit

I'll burn the world for the one I love
Let empires crack from skies above
If peace won’t come, then war must fit
And I’ll kiss the ash while I carry it

So tell them love ain’t soft or sweet
It’s fire; it’s fists; it’s ****** feet
If love’s the game they make us play
Then let me love the hell away

I’m the storm they can’t outlast
The broken glass of a future passed
If love's a lie; then let it break
And in its ruins; I’ll make my stake

I’ll tear apart the heart’s disguise
And feed it back to their empty lies
For love they say; but never feel
I’ll make them taste the blood I steal

Every soul I gave my heart to... gone
Left me buried before the break of dawn
Now all that’s left in this hollow space...
are veins that echo, a pulse erased

Nonfunctional arteries, silence instead
Where love once lived now walks the dead
I’ve mourned alive; I've wept in stone
I carried pain like it’s flesh and bone

I stitched my soul with threads of pain
Nursed heartbreak like cold winter rain
Cradled sorrow like a child with no name
And wore my wounds like a warrior’s chain

9:59 was a heartbeat
A half breath in a thunderstorm of seconds
He was the whisper before the scream
The hush before the applause
A lover... that the world forgot
but see time... time never dared to ignore

Waiting calmly for 10 o’clock
To feel her click... to hear her knock
To whisper soft with gentle grin
“Come close, my love... let time begin”

But 10:00… oh; she never came
She chased the world; adored the fame
A golden hour; dressed in pride
Yet left his steady hands denied.

To her...
9:59 was the almost...
A blemish...
A name unworthy of inscription in her scrolls of becoming
She mistook proximity for poverty
Kindness for cling
Loyalty for lack

He stood still
At the edge of forever
Watching her shadow in the minute ahead
10 o’clock
Queen of symmetry
Darling of digits
Precise Pristine
Always on time.... but never for him

He stood there broken
While she danced with 10:05
Flirted with 10:15
Swooned for 10:50
all the futures...
never the foundation

He watched her click for the 10:01s
The 10:10s; 10:59s…
Everyone who came after
Everyone who came greater
And maybe... just maybe
that’s why he was never enough

9:59 was a minute shy
Of being seen beneath her sky
A tender tick; a quiet song
That waited faithfully too long

He opened doors she wandered through
Yet she loved ones who never knew
Of all the time he kept for her
Of all the ways he'd never err

She sought the sparkle of 10:01
And swayed to noon beneath the sun
Chasing hours with brighter hues
Forgetting who lit up her fuse

He was 9:59
Not 10
Not round..
Not whole..
Not perfect

But he was the door...
The key
The minute that opened the moment
That lit the light...
That gave her name...
a place to exist

Still..
She looked past him
Always
Forever chasing the hourglass gods
Plus the sharp lines and golden ticks

And he...
He stood there
every day
every clock
every loop
Hoping for her
But never walked through with

He was the almost-lover
The breath before the kiss
The "just one more minute"...
You never give

Yet he loved her
Madly... Quietly
With all the time he wasn’t allowed

But time don’t bend for broken hearts
Clocks don’t tick for unspoken parts
And love?
Sometimes it’s just…
a minute short