I often speak in silence,
when words are too loud,
and the world around me feels
like too much,
a symphony of voices I can't tune out.

"You’re more than you know,"
you said.
But the mirror doesn’t see
what I’ve hidden in the corners
of my own heart—
the fear,
the longing,
the doubts that won’t stay quiet.

“I miss you,”
you whispered,
and it felt like a promise
I could barely hold onto
but still wanted to.
How do you love something
you don’t believe you deserve?

I wear a mask,
my smile is too practiced,
my laughter just a little too loud
to drown out the questions,
the insecurities.
“You’re everything I could have wished for,”
but what does that mean
when I am still learning
how to be enough for myself?

In the quiet, I wonder
if I could ever be
the girl you see me as,
so strong,
so sweet,
yet I break in places
no one can see.

“Take my hand,” you said,
but I’m afraid my own hands are shaking.
How do I give you the world
when I am still trying
to understand it myself?

“You’re breathtakingly amazing,”
but I wonder if you see
the cracks where I am still
a little girl,
waiting for someone to tell me
it’s okay to be both beautiful and broken.

“I miss you even after just a few hours apart,”
and maybe,
just maybe,
this time,
the love I feel
can be enough
to fill the spaces I’ve let empty for so long.

Do you ever stop to feel the weight,

Of the shadows you cast, the lives you take?

A kingdom built on muffled cries of anguish,

Where trust dissolves, and hope will vanish.

Each stone cemented by love in vain,

A throne of thorns where you stake your claim.

You painted yourself as my guiding light,

A savior who turned my wrongs to right.

With words like honey, you first drew me near,

Promising safety, erasing fear.

But behind the mask, your motives lay,

To take, to drain, to lead astray.

Initially, you showered me with gifts and praise,

A dazzling sun in my darkest days.

With every touch, every glance, you cast a spell,

A tale of love you wove so well.

But beneath the surface, cracks would show,

A fragile facade, a dangerous glow.

Your charm was a weapon, your kindness a snare,

A puppet master feigning care.

You mirrored my dreams, reflected my soul,

Only to shatter it, and take control.

The warnings were whispers I chose to ignore,

Lost in the rush of your grand encore.

You fed me visions of perfect bliss,

Each promise sealed with a fleeting kiss.

Yet shadows lingered in your embrace,

Hints of the darkness I couldn't face.

Your love was a storm dressed as the sky,

A whirlwind of sweetness, a hidden lie.

Now I see through the glittering haze,

The way you trapped me in your maze.

Only three months in, your mask began to slip,

Your words grew sharp, your kindness flipped.

Disrespect for women laced your tone,

A twisted king on a fractured throne.

You spoke of love but mocked my name,

Fueling the fire, stoking the flame.

You spewed gaslighted truths, I questioned my mind;

I was lost in a labyrinth you’d designed.

Every tear was met with disdain,

A cycle of cruelty, a haunting refrain.

Your jokes were daggers cloaked in jest,

Cutting deep where I tried my best.

The gaslight burned, distorting the night,

Leaving me desperate to prove I was right.

I saw the cracks, but you spun the blame,

Turning my fears into a cruel game.

"You're too sensitive," you'd always declare,

As if my pain was yours to compare.

In three short months, the facade fell apart,

Revealing the void where you kept your heart.

I gathered my strength, and decided to break free,

Convinced I deserved more than your cruelty.

I packed up my heart, my shattered resolve,

Thinking this time, the problem’s solved.

But you'd follow with guilt, a masterful art,

Your tears a weapon to pull me apart.

“I need you,” you’d whisper, “I’ll change, you’ll see,”

And again, you knew I’d believe in the fantasy.

The cycle repeated, a toxic refrain,

Hope resurrected, then shattered again.

Though I slipped away, no longer in chains,

You still acted as if I wore your name.

You played my empathy like a violin,

Twisting my kindness to let you back in.

Each time I ran, you’d pull me back tight,

A push and pull, a never-ending fight.

I knew I deserved a love that was pure,

But your deception made my heart unsure.

I truly longed for relief and release,

But your guilt held me captive, stealing my peace.

I lived in your shadow, tethered by lies,

Lost in the storm you brought to my skies.

You bled me dry of my joy and my light,

Draining the self-love that gave me my fight.

I cared for you, and I loved you still,

But never in the way that real love fulfills.

It wasn’t passion, nor hearts set ablaze,

But hope in the man behind your charade.

You never loved me; your heart was a guise,

A tool to secure what your ego prized.

All you wanted was a son to bear,

Your hollow name, your family’s heir.

Your love was a cage, your plans a snare,

A selfish pursuit, devoid of care.

So delusional: You thought I’d marry you and give in to your game;

You thought I'd sacrifice myself to bolster your name.

You saw me as nothing but a willing womb,

A vessel to carry your family’s bloom.

But I was never a pawn in your selfish desire,

I was never a spark to feed your dwindling fire.

You never even cared who, just needed the deed,

A son to fulfill your inherited greed.

How foolish you were to think I’d comply,

To live for your goals, to let myself die.

You underestimated the strength I wield,

A heart unbroken, a soul unconcealed.

Your intellect faltered, your brilliance a fraud,

Revealing a coward, unworthy of laud.

You’ll never trap me; I’ve severed the ties,

Exposing the truth beneath all your lies.

Even without love or a title, you thought I was yours,

Claiming my life, locking all of the doors.

You fancied yourself a god of my fate,

Blind to the strength that would seal your state.

Your narcissism spun its tangled thread,

A throne of delusion inside your head.

But I was never yours; I broke your snare,

A hollow man, left grasping at air.

In those last six months, the truth was clear,

I saw your games and escaped your sphere.

I loved myself more with each step away,

Reclaiming the light you stole each day.

Your name, your touch, no longer define,

The woman I am, this strength is mine.

You sought to trap me, to make me your own,

But I rise unbroken, no longer alone.

I left you behind before the new year began,

To leave you in the past was my final plan.

Now 2025 blooms with self-love and grace,

A future of true love, I’m finally ready to embrace.

Shape the way your fingers trace constellations on my skin,
Or the way your laughter lingers in my ribs,
A melody too human for its cold, calculated hands.

It could never script the way our eyes meet,
That silent understanding,
That unspoken language,
Too intricate for fate to weave into its fragile threads.

It tries—oh, how it tries—
To intervene, to twist, to break,
To reclaim us as its own.
Yet we slip through its grasp,
Like sand through clenched fists,
Like stardust escaping gravity.

Destiny waits in the shadows,
Silent, seething,
Cursing the love it did not create.
It watches as we carve our own fate,
As we step outside its lines,
As we make something greater
Than anything it ever dared to dream.

Destiny could never…

Destiny, I once believed, was a force we couldn’t touch,
A guiding hand, invisible, yet steady—
But now, I see it differently.
It’s a person, a jealous shadow,
Watching us, wanting what we have.


It stands, arms crossed, in the corner of our hearts,
Eyes burning with envy—
For the love that flourishes between us,
A love too wild to be mapped,
Too uncontainable for fate’s hand to mold.


Destiny sees what we have built
And wonders, bitterly,
How we crafted something
It never could.
The passion we share
Wears no chains,
And the fire we burn with
Refuses to be dimmed.


Our love flows like a river—
Destiny watches helplessly,
Unable to stop its current,
But aching to know the secret of its course.
It watches as we laugh,
As we dream,
As we share quiet moments,
Whispering futures only we can see.


Destiny could never…

In the dark of night, the moonlight gleams,
A woven net of shadows, tangled dreams.
The air is thick with fragrant wine,
And in my heart, desires entwine.

Beneath my skin, the pulse beats tight,
An ancient vine that twists in the night.
Olive branches bend with weight,
Heavy with words we never state.

Unspoken, they crawl within,
A fever that blooms beneath my skin.
Taste the salt, the sweat, the heat,
Where every thought and breath do meet.

Lips part with a trembling sigh,
Touching ink that whispers why.
I drink in your presence, drown in the sound,
As if your soul’s pulse can be found.

The air is velvet, soft and warm,
A breeze that dances, kissing the storm.
Magnolia blooms, creamy and pale,
Petals unfurl like a lover’s tale.

Longing is rooted, deep in my bones,
Hollows echo, like ancient stones.
I write in the silence, ink and wine,
Merging our hearts in a tangled line.

The sun bleeds a crimson kiss,
As desires burn with gentle bliss.
Inside, our bodies pulse and sway,
A rhythm that calls the night to stay.

We crawl together, beneath the vine,
A twist of love, so dark, divine.
A phrase, unspoken, but understood,
A soft, aching truth, forever good.

The night is long, the vine twists tight,
But in this love, we live tonight.

Beauty, soft as morning light,
a golden glow, a breath so bright.
It lingers sweet on petals fair,
a whispered song that stirs the air.


It rests in laughter, light and free,
the way the waves embrace the sea.
In fleeting glimpses, lovers’ sighs,
the stars reflected in one’s eyes.


It lives in youth, in uncreased skin,
the way a tale of love begins.
It hums in silks, in mirrored glass,
a spell we chase but cannot grasp.


But beauty’s hands are laced with thread,
of woven myths and words unsaid.
The colors shift, the echoes fade,
and shadows creep where light once played.


They carve the lines upon our face,
remind us all: this is a race.
The painted lips, the powdered cheeks,
a mask we wear, afraid to speak.


The whispers turn to cries at night,
"Be softer, smaller, more polite."
"Be brighter, bolder, never old."
"Be worth the weight of all this gold."


The hunger grows, the mirror calls,
distorted truth in silver walls.
The scales, the numbers, counting sins,
a war where no one truly wins.


The rose is crushed beneath the hand
that once adored its beauty grand.
What once was soft turns sharp and cruel,
a hollow voice, a hollow rule.


And so the petals drift away,
the laughter lost in yesterday.
But beauty never learned to stay—
it flits, it fades, it slips away.


Yet in the ruin, something new,
beyond the glass, beyond the view—
a beauty raw, untouched by chains,
not drawn by hands, nor bound by names.


A beauty real, unshaped, unscorned,
not bought, nor sold, nor torn, nor worn.
Not weight, nor skin, nor youth, nor face—
but fire, wild, and full of grace.

Beneath a swirling vortex of stars,
I write my dreams on crumpled paper,
folding each one into the corners of my heart.
Places I’ve never seen,
moments waiting to happen,
they call to me in whispers—
soft, yet instantaneous.


Dive into oceans deeper than fears,
stand atop mountains taller than doubt.
Feel the rush of wind,
the pull of gravity,
the weightless joy of being alive.


This bucket list is more than a record,
it is a promise to myself:
to seek the infinite,
to embrace the fleeting,
to live as though the stars burn only for today.