I wandered through fields of golden light,
Chasing dreams beneath the amber sky.
Hope fluttered in the cooling breeze.
I reached toward fading stars.
Night whispered to me.
Silence held on.
Time dissolved.
I breathed.
Alone.
Gone.

I’ll keep on telling you that I love you—
soft as dust on lace,
a whisper tucked in velvet drawers,
a melody wound into time
by trembling hands and silver keys.

Like the ballerina turning in her little glass world,
I’ll spin my love in slow circles,
over and over—
even when the tune grows thin,
even when the gears grow tired.

When the cogs in my mind lose their rhythm,
when the clockwork in my chest falters,
when my fingers no longer reach to hold you—
still, somewhere beneath the hush,
my heart will echo its worn refrain:
“I love you, I love you…”

Until the spindle stops,
until the lid closes gently,
and all that’s left
is the scent of old music,
the silence that remembers
the song we once knew.

Through every storm, through every fall,
You’ve been the voice that heard it all.
The late-night talks, the reckless schemes,
The keeper of my wildest dreams.

No need for words, no need for proof,
You are my anchor, firm and smooth.
For friendship lives where hearts align,
A light that never fades with time.

Through years that change and paths unknown,
Through laughter loud and seeds we’ve sown,
Hand in hand, we’ll always be,
A bond unshaken, wild and free.

I was not born to break,
but I have shattered
quietly—
like glass beneath velvet footsteps.
Still, I rise,
not whole,
but burning brighter
in every fractured edge.

An absolute treasure,
Admirable, in every way,
With an affectionate heart,
And a presence alluring, bright as day.
An amiable soul,
With an angel face, so pure,
An angelic spirit,
A calm anchor, ever sure.

Appealing to all who meet,
An artistic touch, a heart so free,
With an artistic mind that dreams,
An aurora-bright light for me.
An awe-inspiring gaze,
My baby love, serene,
Balanced and beautiful,
A beacon of strength unseen.

My better half, you stand by me,
Big-hearted, full of grace,
Blooming with kindness,
Bold in every space.
Born of stardust, your soul’s a light,
Brave yet kind, you’re always right.
Breathtaking with every breath you take,
Your bright eyes make my heart awake.

You are brilliant, so bubbly,
A calming force,
The calm after chaos,
Like calm as snowfall, of course.
A calm-hearted lover,
Caring, always near,
A celestial light, so cheeky, so charming,
With a charming clown to cheer.

You’re classy, clever,
A comfort-maker, in every way,
Comforting, your touch is peace,
A comet-hearted friend to stay.
Considerate and cosmic beauty,
A cosmic magnet in my life,
A cozy feeling in your embrace,
Your courteous love ends all strife.

A cuddle magnet,
With Cupid’s charm,
You’re my cutie pie,
So dashing, with your arms.
You’re my day-maker,
A debonair dream,
Delightfully odd, so determined,
A devoted soul, it seems.

A diamond in the rough,
Distinct, a divine muse,
Your divine presence guides me,
Like a dream constellation, you diffuse.
My dreamboat, so dreamy,
A earth-woven spirit,
An eclipse of perfection,
So elegant with every merit.

Emotionally intelligent,
A embrace of calm you bring,
Empowering, you are always,
My enamoring king.
Enchanted prince, so endearing,
Energetic in spirit,
An entertaining soul,
Ethereal, a eternal flame to merit.

Exceptional, a being so rare,
You’re exceptional, beyond compare,
Eye-catching, so fearless you stand,
Fetching, your firelight soul expands.
So flawless, with a forest-humble soul,
Fresh as morning dew, you make me whole.
Friendly, always, fun-loving,
A galaxy-hearted being, rising above.

You’re gallant, a gem of light,
Generous, a genius, so gentle, too,
With a gentle breeze, and a gentle fire,
You bring me warmth, always true.
A gentle giant, your gentle presence,
Golden autumn warmth is yours,
A golden boy, golden-souled,
You are the one my heart adores.

So goofy, always gorgeous,
A graceful being, so grand in might,
Your gravity of love pulls me near,
So grounded, you’re my light.
A guardian angel,
Handsome as sin,
A harbor of peace,
With heart-holding within.

You’re my heart-lifter,
Heart-melting, you are pure,
A heart-resting peace,
So heart-soothing, for sure.
Heart-stopping, heart-throbbing,
Your heartwarming funny ways,
A heaven-sent gift,
A heavenly presence, always stays.

So helpful, so heroic,
The highlight of my life,
Honest-hearted, you bring honey-soul calm,
With your honey-toned voice, no strife.
A hope-restorer,
Iconic, you shine bright,
So impressive, my ink-stained dream,
With insightful, brilliant light.

You’re intelligent, irreplaceable,
A joy-bringer, full of cheer,
Joyful in spirit, so jovial,
You make every day bright, my dear.
You’re a jewel, so kindhearted,
With a knight of warmth in tow,
A laugh-creator, laugh-inducing,
Your leader-like love will always grow.

A legend in skin,
A legendary light,
Light in the dark,
You’re my light of my life, so right.
Light-bringer, my lighthearted love,
A love note in motion,
The love of my life,
You are my deepest emotion.

You’re love-struck, love-wrapped,
A lovebug, so lovesome, too,
Loving, loyal to the core,
My magic wrapped in skin, so true.
A magnificent, majestic force,
Matchless, mature and nurturing soul,
Mature beyond years, you are,
With a meadow-soft heart, whole.

Your mental beauty is clear,
So merciful, and mesmerizing,
A meteor of wonder,
With a mind-blowing soul, rising.
You’re mindful, so miraculous,
Missed even when near,
A modern-day hero,
With moonbeam eyes so dear.

A moonlit soul,
Mountain-strong with might,
Movie-star gorgeous,
You are my Mr. Right in sight.
My Mr. Wonderful,
My Apollo, you glow,
My calm after chaos,
You’re the light in my low.

My daylight in dusk,
My everything, you see,
My favorite sentence,
My heart, forever to be.
You’re my heart’s favorite song,
My home, my moon, so bright,
My muse, my safe chapter,
You are my heart’s light.

My safe rhythm,
My soft place, so dear,
My steady ground,
A myth brought to life, always near.
Mythical rarity,
Nurturing in grace,
Neat, you are,
Night-sky brilliance fills your space.

Noble, noble-looking,
With a northern light soul,
Observant, ocean-deep heart,
One-in-a-million whole.
One-of-a-kind, so orbit-worthy,
Out-of-this-world love shines,
Otherworldly lover,
You are forever mine.

Passionate, patient,
Peace-giver, so peaceful,
Peaceful warrior,
With a pegasus soul so beautiful.
Perfectly sculpted,
Perceptive, full of grace,
A petal-soft smile,
You are my perfect place.

Phenomenal, philosophical,
Picture-perfect every way,
You’re a pillow for the soul,
Playful, bright, night and day.
Pleasant, a poet’s dream,
So polished, precious, true,
Profound, protective,
Pure-hearted, all for you.

Quirky, quick-minded,
Quiet strength, always bright,
Quietly powerful,
You are my light.
Radiant, radiantly handsome,
Rain-kissed spirit, you shine,
A rare, ravishing soul,
Real and rooted, divine.

Reflective, regal,
Remarkable, a treasure untold,
Remarkably different,
Reliable, strong as gold.
You’re resilient, river-smooth,
Rooted and real,
My safe arms,
A safe haven, where I heal.

Safe space, secure and loving,
Selfless, sensational light,
Seraphic, a serene spirit,
You are my peace at night.
Serenity-bringer,
Sharp-witted and bold,
A shining light,
Your love is gold.

A shooting star soul,
So silly in the best way,
Singular, a smile-stirrer,
Your soft, kind heart leads the way.
A soft-spoken angel,
A softie, pure and true,
Solid-hearted,
Soul-connecting, you.

A soul-deep kind,
So soulful, bright and clear,
Soul-grounding, soul-nourishing,
You’re the love I hold dear.
Soul-saver, soul-softening,
Soul-soothing always,
You are the soulful light,
In my life’s endless maze.

A special soul,
Spellbinding, you stay,
Spirited, star-kissed,
A starboy in every way.
Your starlight smile
Is a stellar ray,
Steady, my steady and safe love,
You are my heart’s play.

So strong but soft,
With strong-minded grace,
Stunning, sublime presence,
A subtle strength in your face.
Sugar eyes, summer-sweet,
A sunbeam in human form,
You’re my sunshine,
My sunshine in human form—my warm.

Super cute,
Superb, my star,
Supportive, you’re my supreme,
My sweet as spring rain, you are.
Sweet-natured, my sweet soul,
A sweetheart, sweet-talking, too,
A symphony of kindness,
You make the world new.

You’re the color in my grayscale,
The hug I crave,
The line I’d always reread,
You’re the metaphor for joy, my wave.
The one, my poem I never stop writing,
The punctuation to my soul,
The rhythm in my soul,
You’re my heart’s goal.

The sigh between heartbeats,
The softest verse, so bright,
Thoughtful, thoughtful soul,
Thought-provoking light.
A thunder-hearted,
Titan of tenderness to hold,
You’re top-tier,
A tranquil, endless love, so bold.

You’re my treasure,
True gentleman, so right,
A true original,
Truehearted, my light.
You’re trustworthy,
Unforgettable in every way,
With your unique essence,
Unmatched, you forever stay.

Unparalleled, unrepeatable,
Unshakable love is yours,
Universe-wrapped,
Upright, my love restores.
Valuable, you’re valiant,
A visionary, so true,
Warm, my warm hug in human form,
Warmhearted, always you.

You’re a warrior of kindness,
So well-groomed, full of cheer,
Wild and beautiful,
A wildflower soul near.
Winsome, wise,
Wise beyond your years,
Wonderful,
World-class, through all my fears.

You are worthy,
Xenial in nature,
Welcoming and warm,
Xtraordinary, you shine,
A love beyond form.

Yearningly kind,
Your heart always true,
Yellow-sun smile,
Brightens the world, too.

A love like none before,
My zen,
You are my heart’s core.
Zenith of love,
A zen-like presence, so sweet,
Zealous for life,
You make me complete.

I scrub my hands, the color stays,
a crimson thread through all my days.
No river drowns, no fire burns,
the past still twists, the memory turns.

Their voice still lingers in the air,
a fading ghost, a hollow prayer.
I trace the steps I can’t erase,
shadows whisper, time won’t chase.

The mirror sighs, it knows my name,
a hymn of blame beneath its breath.
And though the world still spins the same,
I bear the weight—I wait for death.

your breath is sunlight melting frost on my skin,
your silence—moonlight in a velvet sky,
quiet, yet immense,
a hush that makes the world listen.

i wandered through golden fields,
barefoot in the hush of morning,
dew-kissed and drowsy,
where clouds drift like old lullabies—
and you,
you were waiting at the edge of dusk,
painted in indigo.

we don’t chase,
we revolve.
a soft orbit,
sunrise in your laughter,
midnight in my gaze.
we meet in the in-between—
horizon-blue, dream-drenched,
the hush of stars watching.

your warmth never scorches,
your cool never chills.
just balance.
just breath.
just
us.

A quiet room, a candle’s glow,
The gentle hush of falling snow.
No grand affair, no fleeting prize,
Just simple joy in softened sighs.

The hum of life, the steady beat,
The whispered winds, the dancing feet.
No rush, no chase, just gentle grace,
A heart at peace in time’s embrace.

A book half-read, a sky so wide,
A love that lingers side by side.
Enough is found in what is near,
In silent joy and quiet cheer.

I feel so unreal,
a shadow slipping through the cracks.
Reality is humbling—
it bends, it breaks, it shifts like glass.

What is reality
but echoes in an empty hall?
Are you sure you’re even real—
or just a dream that learned to crawl?

The water rises, slow but sure,
it takes my breath, it grips my skin.
I reach for land, a saving shore,
but waves pull tight and drag me in.

My voice is small, a hollow sound,
it breaks like glass, it fades like mist.
No hands extend, no rope comes down,
the world moves on—I don’t exist.

I see the sky but can’t touch light,
I dream of wings but feel the chain.
And so I sink, and so I stay,
a body drowned beneath the rain.

Step in—
my mind is an ocean
not blue—but a bleeding iridescence
of molten violets, rusted golds,
and bruised, unraveling ceruleans—
a palette spilled by a god having a dream.

You’ll see thoughts float here
like jellyfish lanterns,
soft, slow—laced in venom or velvet—
depending on how you look.

The sky never ends in here.
It folds like cracked parchment,
stretched over the aching arch
of my imagination’s bones.

There are trees made of bone-white whispers
and flowers with petals like flame-licked lace.
They bloom to the rhythm
of my pulse when I’m panicking,
and wilt under the weight
of a silence I can’t swallow.

There’s a path—
etched in the ink of dreams I didn’t chase—
it winds through forests of
regret-shaped branches
that scratch and caress all at once.

If you look to the left—
you’ll see a lake
made of every word I’ve never said.
It shimmers,
but only under the moon
of someone else’s approval.

Birds here don’t fly,
they unravel.
Each feather a fractured metaphor,
each call a dirge sewn with sunlight.

I hide in corners lit by memory—
a field of crooked constellations,
each one a version of me
you’ll never meet,
but will almost understand.

If you stay too long,
you’ll forget your name,
start to speak in echoes,
and dream in static.
But maybe that’s the point.
Maybe that’s the way
to really see me.

Hello, dear poet,
Come closer now—yes, you, love.
This poem is a cradle,
a soft hum rocking through time,
meant for the child you once were—
the one who clutched wonder with both hands,
who cried quietly behind closed doors,
who dreamt of magic even in the dark.

Shh, it’s okay.
You were always trying your best.
You were never too much, never not enough.
You were a wildflower learning to grow
even in the cracks of concrete.
Your dreams were as big as the sky,
and every fall was just a reason
to rise up stronger, a little more sure
that everything would be okay.

Remember the days
when the world was a puzzle you were eager to solve,
when the corners of your mind were wide open,
and every answer felt just out of reach?
But sweet one,
there was no rush—
time had its own rhythm for you to follow,
and you danced to it
with your tiny, unshakable steps.

When the shadows stretched long and wide,
when fear whispered your name,
and doubt felt like an endless rain—
remember,
it was okay to curl up,
to seek comfort in soft things—
blankets, warm arms,
the lullaby of the wind through the trees,
the quiet hum of someone who loved you.

And now, dear poet,
you’ve grown,
but that child,
the one with the bright eyes and the open heart,
is still with you.
They are the spark behind your every word,
the soft whisper in your chest
that says, ”You’re okay.
You’re safe now.”

Don’t forget them,
the one who believed in stars
and who whispered to the moon when no one was listening.
They are still here,
still breathing,
still dancing in your soul.

So, dear poet,
when the weight of the world feels too heavy,
remember—
you were always held
in ways you never quite understood,
always loved
in ways that made the darkness bearable.

And no matter where you go,
you will never be too far from that safe place—
where everything,
yes, everything,
will be alright.

I placed my faith within your hands,
each promise carved in sacred stone.
Yet time has turned them into sand,
and now I stand here, lost, alone.

You spoke in silk, in honeyed air,
but all your words were woven lies.
A dagger laced with love and care,
hidden well behind your eyes.

I stitched the wounds, I bit my tongue,
still tasting rust, still breathing ache.
Some ghosts may haunt, but you, my love,
you chose to watch me break.

I loved you in a way you’ll never know,
a silent tide, a hidden glow.
A candle flickering in the rain,
burning bright despite the pain.

Your name lived softly on my tongue,
a melody I left unsung.
My hands reached out, but not too far,
too scared to grasp a falling star.

And so, I watched, and so, I stayed,
a love unspoken, left to fade.
Not by you, but by the hour
that let me bloom, but not in flower.

meow, meow, meow
sings the moonlit shadow,
a velvet-footed ghost
with candles for eyes—
slipping between the ribs
of midnight’s broken fence.

A pawprint pressed
in yesterday’s rain,
a secret
curled
in the crook of a dying star.

meow, meow, meow
is not a call—
it is a spell,
whispered
in the hush
of the hunted.

Each syllable
a claw scratch
on memory’s silk.

She is dusk,
wearing fur made of fog,
tail a question mark
dragged through fallen petals,
bones rattling like wind chimes
in a temple no one visits
anymore.

meow, meow, meow
—again, again, again—
echoes in the cathedral
of a dream,
where fish fly
and time is just
a mouse
we keep chasing
through the rafters.

Love is not red,
but a bluish sheen
like frost clinging to the edges of a withered petal—
quiet, delicate, grieving.

It echoes in rooms I’ve never stood in
but dreamt of dying in softly—
your name still caught in the lace of my breath.
Like spiderwebs in moonlight:
beautiful, invisible, breaking.

My ribs are glass when you smile.
Does that make you cruel, or does it make me fragile?
Tears hang like pearls in my lungs,
and I drown with grace.
(Love shouldn’t feel this much like drowning.)

The stars blink down with pity—
each one a slow, silver eyelash
shedding light on how I’m
held together by hurt and hope, both trembling.

You pressed your warmth
into my winter skin
and now I shiver even in summer,
missing a fire I can’t carry.
You made my heart grow teeth,
then kissed it with silence.

And it weeps,
not because you left—
but because you stayed long enough
to teach it how to ache with elegance.

Soft lullabies seep through the walls,
warped—distant—like voices underwater.
Fingers brush glassy skin,
but I can’t tell if they belong to me.

The air hums with a name I almost remember,
whispering in a language I used to know.
Something drips—tick, tick, tick—
but the clock’s hands are missing.

I step forward—
or maybe backward—
or maybe I don’t move at all.
My reflection flickers, too slow for the mirror,
folding inward like wet paper.

The room breathes.
The walls bend like candle wax.
A dove flutters behind my ribs,
but I can’t tell if it’s real.

Someone is calling.
Their voice sifts through my fingers like sand.
I open my mouth—
but the words fall straight through.

Everything is quiet.
Everything is slipping.
Everything is—

Beneath the hush of silver rain,
a seed waits in the dark—
not for lack of light,
but in honor of time.

The river does not rush the stone,
nor the moon beg the sun for dawn.
Even stars take centuries
to whisper their names in light.

Patience is the hush in the hallway
before the door opens,
the breath before the answer,
the ache before the bloom.

Learn from the tree—
how it bears the weight of seasons
without breaking.
How it drinks storms and silence
without complaint.

You are becoming.
Not in bursts,
but in slow, sacred folds
of being.

Let the days pass.
Let the sky spin.
You are not late—
you are rooting.

Click your heels, darling—
red as fresh-spilled secrets,
lacquered in the longing
of a girl caught between worlds.

The shoes gleam under studio lights,
a crimson promise, a whispered lie.
Tread lightly—the yellow bricks burn,
hot as stage-lamp sunbursts.

Magic is a contract signed in dust—
not fairy dust, but the kind that coats lungs,
turns breath to wheezing lullabies,
fills dreams with silver-flecked scars.

The witch shrieks, fire swallows her whole—
the flames don’t wait for cut.
She vanishes, but the burns stay,
seeping beneath the green of her skin.

The Tin Man rattles, hollow but breathing,
lungs stiff with powdered metal.
His tears are made of oil now,
his smile a polished afterthought.

Toto limps off set, paw trembling—
no curtain call for the crushed.
The monkeys drop like fallen stars,
wires snapping mid-flight.

And Judy—oh, Judy—
her laughter is stitched together,
a patchwork of amphetamines and exhaustion,
eyes wide as if searching for Kansas
but only finding the next scene.

Still, the shoes sparkle.
Still, they tell you to click.
Because every girl wants to go home—
even when home is a fairytale
built on broken bones.

Click, click—
but the magic is only real if you believe.

Your eyes hold galaxies untold,
A story written soft in gold.
Your laughter spins like whispered spells,
A melody where wonder dwells.

Your touch ignites a world anew,
A spark that burns in deepest blue.
No logic here, no earthly rule—
Just magic made when I found you.

And in your arms, the world unwinds,
A dream made real, a fate designed.
No greater trick, no grander art,
Than love that lifts and binds the heart.

No one owns your body.
No one has the right to take.
No one has the right to push.

It’s okay to say no.
Even when they say you’re leading them on.
Even when they say you owe them.
Even when they say you don’t mean it.

It’s okay to say no.
Even when your voice shakes.
Even when your hands tremble.
Even when you feel small.

It’s okay to say no.
Even when you’re afraid.
Even when you don’t know what will happen next.
Even when they won’t stop.

It’s your body.
It’s your choice.
It’s your right.

Drifting like whispers through lavender evenings,
golden light pools where the fireflies glow,
Soft is the hum of the honeyed horizon,
melting like warmth on the skin ever slow.

Fingers trace maps in the hush of the silence,
stories are spun in the hush of your breath,
Laced in the air is the fragrance of clover,
soft as a promise that time won’t forget.

Murmurs like nectar drip sweet on my lips,
tangled in whispers so tenderly spun,
Moonlight dissolves in the amber of longing,
melting in ribbons of love left undone.

Here in the hush where the firelight lingers,
golden and sweet as the touch that we share,
Honeyed embraces dissolve into morning,
warm as your voice in the dawn-silver air.

The clock does not beg for mercy,
it does not weep, it does not wait.
It carves its mark with steady fingers,
seals the doors and locks the gate.

Once, the summers felt unending,
once, my hands were small and free.
Now the wind hums distant warnings,
pulling petals from the tree.

Faces blur like water ripples,
names slip through like autumn air.
All I love will turn to memory,
and time will never learn to care.

I tell myself—just a little longer,
though the weight is heavy, the air too thick.
The sun rises, but I do not reach for it,
only watch as light fades before it touches me.

The days blur like water down a window,
quiet, slipping, never quite clear.
Each breath feels borrowed,
each step, a whisper of effort.

But somewhere, a bird still sings for me,
soft notes curling in the wind.
Somewhere, a hand might reach back if I reach first,
a voice might call my name and mean it.

So I stay—just a little longer,
for the chance that tomorrow might feel lighter,
that the night might hold me gently
instead of pressing me into the dark.

I don’t know if it will,
but for now, I tell myself—
just a little longer.

I’m tired of being your porcelain ache,
a honeyed bruise you press just to feel
like something breaks.

The moon wore my name last night—
called me “sugar,”
then swallowed me whole.

I am not a whisper.
I’m smoke in your lungs,
a hunger that licks the edges
of your quietest shame.

You come to me
with wrists full of apologies,
but I’m not your silk confession
anymore.

I’ve traded my softness for salt—
kissed the mirror
until it tasted like metal.
I shed my skin in the hallway light
and watched it slip into lace.

You called it love.
I called it
forgetting myself slowly.

Now,
I wear thunder on my thighs.
My spine hums with velvet rage.
I am not your waiting room.

If I bloom again,
it will be for me.
If I beg,
it will be my name
I whisper back to the dark.

Your love is steady, soft, and true,
A warmth that glows in golden hue.
Like tides that kiss the waiting shore,
You hold me close, then love me more.

Through raging winds and endless night,
You are my calm, my guiding light.
Not fleeting sparks, but steadfast glow,
A fire that never dims below.

And if the stars should lose their way,
Or time should steal the light of day,
Still in your arms, I’d always be,
Forever safe, eternally.

The world begins in whispers,
a hush of dew across the blades,
soft-footed clouds curling above
a sky too shy to burn.

Dandelions hold their breath,
drifting wishes in golden pause,
while robins hum lullabies
to the waking hush of trees.

In this untouched hour,
the wind plays only gentle games,
skipping stones across the lake,
never daring to ripple the still.

There is no urgency here,
only the quiet kindness of time,
the sleepy smiles of sunbeams,
and the innocence of the world
before it remembers to rush.

Velvet sunlight in my palm,
a golden globe, blushing
with the scent of summer.

One bite—
nectar floods like monsoon rain,
dripping down my chin,
hot, sweet, unstoppable.

It tastes like July.
Like heatwaves resting on your tongue,
like skin kissed by dusk.

Flesh so tender it trembles,
ripe and reckless,
honey tangled in citrus silk
and firelight.

The juice—
a soft explosion,
a sunbeam melting into flesh,
a kiss that lingers.

I lick my fingers
like a prayer,
grateful,
greedy,
laughing.

It’s not food.
It’s a spell,
a secret,
a world inside a fruit.

I close my eyes
and the taste stays—
warm, wild, alive.

She bites the pomegranate—
not with hunger,
but with a soft kind of ache,
like remembering a song too late at night.

Juice ribbons down her wrist
in rivulets of rubies,
sanguine silk,
each seed a small beating heart
she swore she’d never swallow.

The orchard hums—
a low, bone-deep thrum of honey-thick dusk,
where shadows sleep in the eyes of foxes,
and the air tastes like cinnamon secrets.

There is gravity in sweetness,
a tug between teeth and truth.
She thinks: love is a fruit with a rind too thin to protect it
and eats anyway.

Inside her chest:
a garden blooming in reverse—
petals folding,
color bleeding into absence,
the sound of something unripening.

She is full now—
of myth, of molten memory,
of something holy and ruinous.
She smiles,
and the world forgets
what season it is.

The sky spills liquid gold across the fields,
and every blade of grass hums a bright song,
ripples of honey laughter swim through the air,
as the trees burst into wild, kaleidoscopic blooms.

Clouds skip like stones across a sapphire lake,
the wind flutes silver melodies through the valley,
and the mountains wear crowns of glittering flame,
grinning, howling, singing at the top of their lungs.

The rivers are ribbons of melted stars,
the earth quivers with candy-colored sparks,
and hearts—oh, hearts!—
they pop like fireworks in a velvet sky,
sending ripples of giggling stardust everywhere.

Every breath tastes of spun sugar and sunlight,
every blink unwraps a prism of newborn wonder,
and my soul—my soul!—
is a thousand kites soaring, shrieking, bursting,
carried far beyond the hills of happiness.

I never thought the words would stick,
Not in my throat, not in my skin,
But here they are, burning like a wick,
The lies they told, the shape I’m in.

I hear them now, when I close my eyes,
My mother’s voice, sharp and cold,
Telling me that I’m not enough,
That I’ll never be worth the love I’m sold.

“Mary, you’re a disappointment,”
The words hit like a slap in the face.
Every failure is a mark she leaves,
Every tear is a slap to my grace.

She says it’s my fault,
I’m the one who makes her break,
But how do I fix what’s broken,
When I don’t even know where to start or take?

Her last words haunt me in the night,
Telling me I’m wrong, telling me I fight,
Telling me my worth is nothing,
That I’m just a ghost in a family that’s done with loving.
Her last words, sharp as knives,
Cut through the quiet of my fragile life.

She’s always angry, always mad,
Never sees what’s behind the sad.
I’m just a face she can’t embrace,
A reflection of everything she can’t erase.

She tells me I’ll never be enough,
My nose too big, my heart too soft.
She tells me I’ll end up like them,
The ones who couldn’t make it,
Couldn’t win.

She says it so casually,
As though the pain doesn’t stick.
As though she doesn’t see my tears,
As though her words won’t break me quick.

Her last words echo in my chest,
Telling me I’m nothing,
Telling me I’ll never be my best.
Her last words, like a whispered prayer,
Begging me to break, but I’ll never be there.

And every time I try to stand tall,
She pushes me back down again,
Says I’m a failure, says I’ll fall,
And that I’m no better than my biological kin.

But somewhere inside, I still fight,
I still hope that one day I’ll rise,
Even if she can’t see my light,
Even if she only sees the lies.


She yells at Y, tells her the same,
That we’re the problem, that we’re to blame.
She says it’s our fault she feels this way,
But it’s her rage that never fades.
It’s her fear that’s running wild,
Turning her into a broken child.

And every time she calls me out,
I think of what could’ve been,
If love didn’t come with rules and doubt,
If we were just a family, not a war within.

Her last words are the truth I can’t escape,
They’re carved into my skin, into my fate.
Her last words, heavy like stone,
Reminding me that I’m always alone.

And when my breath finally fades away,
It’ll be her words that seal my end.
Not the love I longed for, but the lies she said,
Will be the silence where my heart bends.

The world won’t miss me, they’ll forget my name,
Just another girl lost in a family’s shame.
I’ll be just a shadow, fading fast,
A memory of love that never lasts.

Her last words will haunt me still,
As my body grows cold, my spirit still.
In the end, I’ll finally be free,
From the weight of her love, from what’s left of me.

Dawn stretches golden over Guanabara Bay,
sugarloaf rising like a dream in stone.
Waves kiss the shore in samba rhythms—
each tide a whisper from the heart of Brazil.

Birdsong rains from the canopy,
scarlet macaws slicing morning light like brushstrokes.
The rainforest exhales its perfume—
a living mural swaying in greens and golds.

Cobblestone streets hum beneath bare feet,
colors bursting from murals and music.
The air tastes of mango and maracujá,
joy lingers in every sun-soaked laugh.

Ipanema gleams like a string of pearls,
bodies bronzed and basking in euphoria.
Even the breeze dances—
flirting with palms, curling through café songs.

From Lapa’s arches to Christ’s open arms,
the city holds you—wide-eyed, blooming.
And oh, to see Rio not just with eyes
but with your whole soul alight.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, the hands sweep, slow and grand,
Echoes in brass, the hourglass of time,
Each second a sonnet, each minute a memory,
A pendulum sways with the weight of all things,
A whispered sigh, the rhythm of fate.

Tick-tick, tick-tick, the seconds fly,
A thousand moments, one fleeting chime,
The wood creaks softly, a song to the past,
Time, both heavy and light, spins ever last.

Tick-tick, tick-tick, a muted hum,
The dance of the hands, a battle won,
Through the quiet of night, and the light of day,
We march to the beat, come what may.

Tick, tick, a whisper,
A pulse, a pause,
We chase after moments,
Only to lose them.

Tick.

        Tock.

Tick…

Under the silvered light of a thousand moons,
Where shadows stretch like whispered truths,
We begin our dance, a waltz of souls,
Through valleys deep, where time unfolds.

Hand in hand, we cross the plains,
Of joy and sorrow, love's refrain,
Your touch, a breath upon my skin,
A promise made, a life within.

Our footsteps echo through the years,
A cadence soft, dispelling fears,
In every rise, in every fall,
We find our rhythm, we heed love's call.

Through storm and sun, through night and day,
Our hearts beat in a boundless sway,
Each twirl, a memory, rich and pure,
A bond unbroken, strong, secure.

We dance on cliffs where eagles soar,
And down in depths where oceans roar,
The world a stage beneath our feet,
In every moment, life complete.

The seasons change, the years grow old,
Yet in your arms, I never fold,
Through winter's chill or summer's blaze,
In your eyes, I find my gaze.

We spin through realms both dark and bright,
In endless circles, day and night,
And when the stars above us fade,
We'll dance in shadows, unafraid.

For love, my dear, knows no demise,
It only deepens, never dies,
A fire eternal, burning strong,
Through every dusk, through every dawn.

We'll dance on through the silent night,
Through dreams unseen, beyond all sight,
And when the world falls still and quiet,
Our hearts will keep a secret riot.

For in this dance, we find our truth,
An ageless vow, eternal youth,
No end, no start, just endless grace,
In every step, a love embraced.

And when the final curtain falls,
When silence wraps these ancient halls,
We'll dance into the great unknown,
Two shadows in a twilight zone.

Yet even then, beyond the veil,
Our love will rise, it will not pale,
For love, you see, it transcends time,
An endless waltz, a sacred rhyme.

So take my hand, we'll dance once more,
Through every sky, through every shore,
In life, in death, we'll find our way,
In love, forever, we shall stay.

Home is not home.
Home should be safe.
Home should be warm,
a refuge, a haven, a light in the storm.

Home should be love,
gentle hands, soft words,
a place where hearts are heard.

Home should not be fear.
Not shadows creeping down the hall,
not silence heavy, cold, and small.
Not walls that whisper cruel goodnights,
not the sting of words or hands clenched tight.

Home should be safe.
Not a place where pain resides,
where truth is twisted, love divides.
Not where voices crack like whips,
or where exhaustion grips and grips…

Home should be safe.
Home should be bright.
Home should be laughter spilling through the night.
Home should be warmth, should be rest,
should be peace where weary hearts nest.

Home should be safe.
Home should be home.