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I try too hard to hide the way
I struggle with this every day

they cannot see
what holds me back
because these walls
are made of glass

they think that I
am holding back

I try to use my logic
to put their anger into perspective

but sometimes I can't

I'm sorry I am not enough

sometimes I try to explain
the ways I try
that they can't see

I try
but I find out which friends
pretend they can feel empathy

sometimes that's been a shock for me

but maybe I know how they feel
I pretend that I can do
the things people expect me to

is that the way it feels for you?
is that the reason you pretend?

do you try to feel empathy?
are you ashamed because you can't?

if that's not something you can do
then I should not expect you to

I've seen what you're capable of

I'm sorry it was not enough
Birds in flight,
black and white
synchronised motion,
sweeping wings
skim the ocean
Me?
A secret.
Too complicated to explain
Whenever people ask.
We never met,
yet something in me moved
each time your name brushed the edge of my thoughts—
like rain recalling the scent of earth
before it even falls.

You felt familiar
in a way no one else ever did.
As if some part of you
was written into me
long before either of us learned the weight of longing.

You felt it too, didn’t you?
In the stillness,
in the way silence held meaning
only we could understand.
Two souls orbiting the same moon,
never touching—always aching.

I dreamt of tulips once—
white, trembling in morning light,
growing between us
in a field we were never allowed to walk.
They never withered.
But we… we had to.

Because life has its own tide,
and sometimes hearts that echo
are not meant to meet on this shore.
Sometimes, we’re meant
only to pass by each other in prayers,
to fold the ache into poetry
and call it peace.

I could have stayed,
but at what cost?
Would you have flourished
in hands not shaped to hold your future?
Would this quiet knowing
have turned into noise
had we begged fate to bend?

So I leave you to the stars,
to the life you were meant to live—
uninterrupted by a love
that bloomed too far away to root.

And if, one day,
you stand in a garden of tulips
and feel warmth bloom inside your chest
for no clear reason—
know this:

If you were meant to be mine,
you would have been.
And if you are meant to be mine still—
you always will be.



Erennwrites
I hope there never comes a time

When the blackness in our minds,

surpasses grief and sorrow.

When rage begs not, to be contained.

And sadness no longer cares about tomorrow.

No longer cares, the circumstance.

Making good men heed the witching hours call.

When souls are lost,

and honor falls.

And love is just a word.

Once heard,

But a feeling no longer remembered

at all.
If you stand on the edge to long a fall will eventually come.
And it really doesn't matter if you jump, slip, or are pushed
the result is the same.
They were spread out
in front of me
as I tried counting them
in twos.
I had already googled
what might happen,
but the results varied.
I swiped a few or more
off the counter
and took them quickly;

and then he called.

The rest of them are now
back in the bottle.
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