She Believed Him

She stood on that quiet hillside,
heart open like morning light.
She didn’t see the storm behind his smile,
only the warmth in his eyes.

She believed the way he touched her
meant something sacred.
She heard his words
and wrapped them around her ribs
like safety.

She thought if she stayed still enough,
soft enough,
he would stay.

She didn’t know
he was already slipping away—
in his silence, in his shadows.
She mistook his pauses for depth,
his stillness for awe.

But I know now.
I see her—
that girl I was—
painting love on borrowed time.
Whispering truth
into a mouth that never answered.

She gave him her colours.
He left her with a brush
and no goodbye.

And still…
she was art.
Even unfinished.
Even alone

His Return

If he had come back… just once… and told the truth.

If I Could Speak

I saw the way you looked at me.
God, I felt it.
You made me feel like I was something more
than the wreck I’d become.

And that scared me.

Because I wanted to be that man for you—
the one who stayed.
But I wasn’t built for staying.
I was always half-out-the-door,
even while holding your hand.

You didn’t know how much I cared.
I made sure of it.
Because if I said it aloud,
if I showed you all of it,
you would’ve expected forever.
And I was never brave enough
to give you that.

So I left.
Silently.
Cowardly.
Ghosting the only person
who ever saw the whole of me
and didn’t flinch.

But I never forgot you.
Not for a moment.
I still see that hillside—
the one you brought me to
without ever asking for anything
but honesty.

And I failed you there.

If I could return,
I’d kneel at the canvas you unfolded
and say:
“I wasn’t ready.
But I did love you.
More than I could bear.”

Letter (Never Sent)

To you—
The only one I never forgot.

I don’t know if I have the right to write this.
Maybe I never did.
But some things won’t stay buried,
and my silence has grown too heavy to carry alone.

I still see you.
That soft smile, the way your presence quieted the storm in me—
I remember everything.

You were the one place I felt safe,
the only one who ever looked at me
and saw something worth saving.

And I know—I let you go.
I didn’t fight.
I disappeared into the years like a coward.
But not because I didn’t care.
Because I did.
Too much.

Seven years.
Seven years of wondering what might have happened
if I had just said the words:
I loved you.
I still do.

But love, for me, has always come tangled in fear.
I thought if I told you,
I’d lose you entirely.
And so I tried to protect the little I had
by keeping you just far enough away.

You gave me your heart,
and I kept it quietly, selfishly—
too afraid to speak,
too proud to fall.

But you were the best part of me.
The only part that ever felt true.

I still feel you sometimes,
like a breath against my skin
when the world goes still.
And I wonder…
could you ever still feel me too?

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this.
Maybe you shouldn’t.
But if you do,
just know—
I haven’t left.

I’m here.
I’ve always been.
Still loving you in silence.
Still waiting.

Still yours,
—even now—
Me

Cript (Secrets & Shadows)

The castle holds its frozen breath—
a winter’s death wrapped in silence,
where steel-cold crypts whisper secrets
buried deep beneath the stones.

Dragons haunt the night’s cold edge,
their burning eyes slicing shadows—
but even their fire cannot melt
the frost clutching her fragile soul.

She waits, cloaked in silence,
eyes flickering with hidden fear.
His footsteps—soft yet deadly—
draw nearer through the bitter dark.
He hunts the shadows where she hides,
but she cannot hide what lingers in her stare.

He pulls her back to the glassy lake—
his touch colder than the depths below.
Words fall like shards of ice,
promises tangled in a ghostly thread.
She hears but cannot listen,
lost beneath a spell older than time.

At dawn, she vanishes—
drowned in secrets, swallowed by silence.
The lake’s surface hides her flight,
a prisoner to the restless curse.

When night falls again,
his voice rides the storm winds—
calling, searching, relentless.
But castle walls crumble against the dark.
Only dragons remain—
keepers of her fading hope.

She slips beneath shallow waters—
where danger breathes beneath the waves,
the lady of the lake,
bound to the shadows of a haunted wake

Below is a refined version, still true to your voice, but with tightened lines, smoother flow, and a sharpened sense of myth and emotion — aiming to leave the reader with that ache of something wild, unresolved, and haunting

No time to
Freeze the moon.

I fear that distant, spectral dance:
The wolves, the wind,
The starless trance.
A clash of light,
A shattered quill—
The sky breaks open,
Cold and still.

I hear the call, a ghostly thread,
The echo of what once was said.
The wolf returns to stand and see
The hill where badgers once ran free.

The hare is still—its heart a drum,
A beat that tempts the dark to come.
And shadows gather at my feet—
October's chill, so sharp, so sweet.

You came again, as silence dressed—
A month that severs, never rests.
You left me once, too young to break,
Now steal the breath you chose to take.

Say nothing. Speak no truth to me.
I grieve the girl I could not be.
The wolf is gone, the path erased—
The moon no longer lights this place.

And yet, when frost bites winter air,
I see you still. You're always there.
But you can’t touch what’s now my own—
I free the deer. I walk alone.

No time—
Freeze the moon.
Let ice give way,
And listen soon.


---

This version keeps your winter creatures, your mother’s haunting presence, and your own hard-won freedom — but casts it in a spell-like structure, something timeless and sacred.

As Spring Survived
When winter’s grip begins to fade,
Will death and grief release their hold?
Snowdrops stir beneath the frost—
A whisper soft, as spring unfolds.

The sun returns with golden breath,
Rebirth begins, and life rewakes.
Yet I am heavy in my grief—
A robin still with broken wings.

If time allows, I’ll find my feet,
And rise once more into the wind.
For even sorrow casts a shape
That lets the light slip softly in.

And though the path is slow and bare,
Each brave step carves a space for air.
I’ll breathe again the world I miss—
The tender ache, the warming kiss.

In March, beneath a gentler sky,
Spring will begin — and so shall I.
Sadness shrinking, fear grown still,
Scars softening beneath the hill.

And summer...
I cannot yet name it.
But I feel it —
Almost.


---

This version builds toward hope while pausing at the edge of it, leaving the reader suspended

After Silence

by Fallen Angel

Come drift with us where hope runs deep,
A gentle tide where sorrow sleeps.
If you feel lost and cannot swim,
We’ll take your hands and pull you in.

No hate, no harm, no judging eyes—
Just quiet hearts and open skies.
And if a tear slips down your face,
We see your pain, we hold your place.

You’ll never drown in waters wide,
For love surrounds on every side.
And when the waves rise dark and high,
We lift you up, we help you fly.

At times you may be tossed, unmoored,
By storms within you, long endured.
But that is when you’ll feel us near—
A steady anchor, strong and clear.

You’ll find your breath, your light, your way,
And see the dawn break into day.
No longer needing walls to hide,
You’ll live, you’ll love, you'll turn the tide.

For after silence, songs begin—
A sacred hush, then strength within.
So rise, unfold, let stillness guide—
We’re always here, right by your side.