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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.
1.20.25
 Feb 17 Maryann I
Soulless
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.
Thus, I have come to understand the worth of inadequacy –
my accuracy that targets the essence of your heart, is obscured
by my vision, ensnared by your eyes. You elevate my lows to
astonishing heights, tormenting me with your kisses, for we
never get to kiss twice.

It’s always one of those quick goodbyes; "I’ll see you in another
life," as if you’re untroubled by the thought of a reason to die.
Yet, won’t we all meet our end eventually? Some days, I wish
for a gentle passing for my weary soul.

And your eyes – don’t they seem to possess an awareness of
their own reflection? Your beauty is a weapon, silencing my
tongue, rendering me unable to articulate in words. Paralyzed;
I am numb in place; I can't look away from your eyes.

So numb in love...
A pretty moon dressed in her silk clouds –
She compliments my dark skin; we are twins
Her and I are a distance love, but ever so close
As she shines upon all of my sweet dreams.

A shinning attraction, my eyes nightly distraction;
A lonely caption – so much of her, so much of her
Glowing white of magic.

Oh, how pretty the moon is tonight.
 Nov 2024 Maryann I
brinn
the cold air
can be seen
every time
we take a breath

my tears sting
as they race
down my cheeks
to soak into my scarf

my hand has
gone numb
and no longer had
yours to hold

Christmas music plays
jingling merrily
as my heart
shatters to the beat.

the words
dancing off your lips
hanging in the air
as if they were mistletoe

”i’m sorry”
i watch as you turn your back
and walk away
for the last time.
 Aug 2024 Maryann I
MetaVerse
Antique
paper
& ink
& glue,
a fragrance
I drink
in through
my nose,
fragrant
like a dead rose.
I fan my face,
& fall into
an antique book
aroma coma.

— The End —