A dandelion’s wish floats in the breeze,
Dancing through sunlight and soft summer air,
Whispering tales of the places it’ll be,
Carried by winds that wander with care.

Upon a breath, it twirls in the light,
Sailing ‘bove meadows, o’er mountains so wide,
A fragile traveler in the still of the night,
Dreaming of lands where its dreams may reside.

It sways with the rhythm of skies so vast,
A tiny spark in the world’s grand design,
Ever fleeting, it drifts from the past,
Seeking a future where roots can entwine.

A moment it lingers, a sigh in the air,
Then onward it sails, with no time to stay,
Lost in the journey, in a whisper so fair,
The seed in the wind, forever astray.

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.

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 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.

Soft are the sighs of the evening’s embrace,
laced in the hush of a silver-lit breeze.
Waltzing in whispers, the night leaves a trace,
brushing my cheek with a delicate tease.

Gossamer ribbons of moonlight descend,
trailing my footsteps in flickering white.
Coy is the dance as the fireflies blend,
spun in the glow of a star-lover’s light.

Fingers like lace trace the edge of a dream,
velveted laughter afloat on the air.
Oh, how the midnight was made to be seen—
darling and dainty, yet wickedly fair.

Tell me, sweet wanderer lost in my spell,
would you still chase me if I never fell?

You hear it, soft at first,
A whisper in the night,
A fluttering breath on your ear,
A wish that won’t take flight.
Love me,
Love  me.

The pulse quickens,
The shadows grow longer,
Each moment stretching
Like time has forgotten itself.
Love   me,
Love    me,
Love     me.

It clings like the air,
A taste on your tongue,
Unspoken, yet loud enough to drown.
The silence thickens—
Can you hear it?
Love      me,
Love       me,
Love        me,
Love         me.

It’s all that exists now,
A cage you can’t escape,
The need spirals deeper,
Faster, tighter,
Love          me.
Love           me.
Love          me.
Love         me,
Love        me.

The walls close in,
The words no longer hold weight,
Just a chant,
A prayer,
A broken record.
Love       me.
Love       me.
Love     me.
Love    me.
Love   me.
Love  me.

Love me?

A silent maw,
carved into the velvet of spacetime,
drinks the universe
without sound, without shape—
just the slow, spiraled collapse
of everything once known.

Its edge—a burning halo
of fused copper, liquid bronze,
and ionized fire,
spins at the speed of forgetting,
blurring into a ring of sheer velocity—
a lens where reality folds in on itself.

Around it:
deep red streamlines,
maroon currents of orphaned light,
taper and twist like oil on black water—
gravity made visible.

In the distance, galaxies drift—
fractured spirals in periwinkle dust,
nebulae bruised in plum and violet,
their tendrils stretched thin
by the pull of this ancient siphon.

It does not speak.
But it rearranges everything—
light becomes arc,
time becomes thread,
motion becomes stillness.

The accretion disk—a
maelstrom of starbone and ash,
where photons skim the surface
but never escape,
trapped in orbit,
a crown of failure and flame.

Beyond the pull,
light teeters, bends, breaks—
an aurora of shattered timelines
wrapped in lapis smoke,
flickering in rhythm
to a silence we will never unhear.

Each orbit marks a memory—
not ours,
but the universe’s—
stitched into the architecture of collapse.

There is no edge,
no true surface,
only the illusion of descent
into perfect black—
not emptiness,
but the compression of everything.

We are bystanders.
Frozen,
watching entropy dress itself
in colors we’ve never seen before.

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.

No…
Let the stars go dim, let the sky forget my name,
I’ll burn the sun out of spite if it means I can stay—
right here,
beside the hush of his breath,
the world outside can hold its death.

Heaven, wait.
Don’t press your gates—
He’s here,
and I’m not done yet.

Let the angels pout, let trumpets mute,
I’d trade eternity for the whisper of his “don’t go,”
soft and low,
like dusk folding over our skin.
Let the cosmos spin without me—
his kiss is the only holy thing.

If time dared to pull him forward,
moved him on, moved him gone—
I’d flip fate backward,
slide through light-years just to belong
again in his hold,
wild and warm and bold.

Can’t stand— no,
I can’t stand to see
some stranger’s lips stealing my symphony,
hands tracing what only mine should know.
No.

I’d drown the clock, freeze the moon’s pull,
erase history with one scream,
if it meant he stayed in this dream.

I’d fall from heaven—
again and again—
if that’s the cost to
breathe him in.

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.

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.

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’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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The sky does not always thunder,
some days it only hums—
a low lullaby in pastel blue,
resting on your windowpane.

There is beauty in stillness,
like dew-beads clinging to a spider’s thread,
fragile, glimmering, unseen
but alive.

You are not late.
The garden blooms when it’s ready—
not a moment before.
Even the moon takes its time
to become full.

So let yourself be tired.
Let the ache sit beside you.
It will not stay forever.
It knows you’re learning,
and learning is slow.

One day, the breath in your chest
will feel like enough.
The dawn will no longer feel
like a beginning you’ve missed.
You’ll sip morning light
and say,
I made it.

Not with fanfare,
not with fire—
but with soft feet
on soft earth,
and a heart that chose
to stay.

I miss you like the moon misses the tide—
drawn toward you in quiet gravity,
yet left to glow alone in the hush
of a sky too wide, too still, too far.

I miss you like wind through a field of lilies,
brushing soft petals that don’t respond.
Like a ghost breeze sighing through curtains,
hoping you might return through the door.

You are the fog in my early mornings,
the warmth my coffee fails to mimic,
the soft indentation in my pillow
where your dreams used to rest beside mine.

I miss you in colors—
in the pale peach of sunset clouds,
in the silver hush of midnight rain,
in the gold that glimmers through memory’s lace.

I miss you in textures—
in velvet air after thunder,
in the silk of whispered goodnights,
in the ache behind every slow breath.

You echo in the spaces between stars,
your name hidden in stardust trails,
your touch a distant hum in my bones—
faint, but ever pulsing beneath my skin.

Even time seems to unravel without you—
hours stretch like candle wax down my spine,
and every clock tick is a heartbeat
that forgets how to beat right without yours.

I find you in the oddest places—
a song half-heard on a street corner,
the scent of rain on a stranger’s coat,
a poem I didn’t mean to write, but did.

I miss you in ways I don’t know how to explain—
with a love that doesn’t settle,
a yearning that spills past language,
a soul ache that dreams of you in petals and tidepools.

And still,
somehow,
I keep missing you more.

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.

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.

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.

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—

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.

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.

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.

Drizzle me in honeyed gold,
let caramel ribbons lace my skin,
warm and slow as they trickle down—
a river of molten sugar, pooling in bliss.

The air is thick with vanilla hush,
soft as sifted powdered snow,
melting on my tongue like a whispered dream,
light as spun sugar caught in the breeze.

Bite into the velvet hush of chocolate—
dark as midnight, rich as sin,
a decadent flood that lingers and sighs,
coating lips in satin warmth.

Strawberries glisten, ruby-bright,
dipped in white chocolate sighs,
their **** kiss softened by cream’s embrace,
blushing beneath the moon’s silver glow.

Golden crusts crack beneath the fork,
pastry flaking into a buttery hush,
as custard spills in silken waves,
folding sweetly into waiting hands.

A swirl of cinnamon dances in air,
twisting in clouds of sugar and spice,
as soft dough blooms in golden spirals,
cradled in the warmth of the oven’s arms.

And in this feast of sugared dreams,
where every taste is a lullaby,
let me drown in the amber glow
of honeyed nights and caramel skies.

Joy is a sunflower in bloom,
a burst of yellow laughter in the throat of dawn—
it dances barefoot through fields
where even the scarecrows smile.

Sadness seeps in shades of blue,
an ocean swallowing lullabies whole,
waves cradling broken boats
and the moon’s reflection—shivering.

Anger is a match lit red,
flickering like a war drum’s pulse,
a wildfire in the chest,
burning bridges before they’re crossed.

Fear creeps in gray,
a mist dragging its feet through alleyways,
whispers behind curtains,
the silence before a scream.

Love is crimson spun with rose,
a heartbeat wrapped in silk,
sometimes soft, sometimes savage—
a fire that kisses and consumes.

Peace wears the hush of lavender light,
a hammock beneath wind-whispered trees,
a breath drawn slowly,
unfolding like petals in spring.

Hope is the color of sky brushed gold,
a sunrise you almost missed,
a window cracked open
in a room you thought was locked.

Loneliness is the aching indigo,
stars you can see but never touch,
a winter coat with no one inside,
quiet as a room full of eyes.

Jealousy glints a poison green,
a vine curling where it’s not wanted,
something sour behind the smile,
a mirror cracked just slightly.

Gratitude glows in soft orange,
a hearth with arms,
warmth that hums
even when the fire’s low.

Shame is a dusty blush of muted brown,
an old coat you never meant to wear,
muddy footprints you try to clean
before anyone sees.

Confidence roars in emerald and royal violet,
a cloak stitched with thunder,
feet firm on the earth
as the sky bends to meet your eyes.

The door swings wide, the moment near,
A voice I missed, so bright and clear.
Familiar hands, a knowing smile,
Collapsing into joy awhile.

No miles can stretch, no time can break,
The bond we hold, the love we make.
For home is found in hearts, not place,
And yours will always be my space.

No words are needed, none suffice,
Just laughter shared, a touch so nice.
The world feels whole, the past erased,
In arms once lost, but now embraced.

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.

The walls don’t echo anymore.
The sound of your voice
used to cling to the corners
like dusk settling in the seams—
now there’s just
stillness
that chokes.

I say your name
like a dropped plate
shattering in an empty hallway—
and you
don’t
flinch.

The space between us
is crowded with things
you’ll never say.
Your silence is a scythe
trimming down
my worth.

Every glance you avoid
draws a chalk outline
around the version of me
you no longer see.

I water the air with apologies
that never bloom.
You offer nothing,
and still,
I bend
like sun-starved vines
toward the warmth
of nothing.

How loud you are
without a single word.

I laid my hands upon the altar,
knuckles bruised from silent prayers,
whispers turned to fleeting echoes,
lost among the empty air.

I built you bridges out of marrow,
stitched the stars into your sky,
gave you light when nights were hollow,
yet you never asked me why.

My name fades in nameless hours,
scattered like the autumn leaves,
a monument of quiet labor
built for those who never grieve.

And still, I stand, arms outstretched,
woven from the threads of care.
The world moves on—I disappear,
a ghost who gave, yet none were there.

When the night wraps around you like wet wool,
and your thoughts begin to ache like tired feet—
know this:

I am the light left on in your window,
the quiet hum in the next room,
the soft chair waiting with open arms.

If the sky cracks
and pours its weight upon your shoulders,
I’ll be your umbrella—
no, your stormcoat—
no, the sunrise chasing away every bruise of cloud.

When the world grows too loud
and every breath feels barbed,
I’ll be the hush in a field of lavender,
the hush that understands without asking
why your hands shake
or your voice folds in on itself.

You do not need to carry every fire alone.
Let me be your match,
your kindling,
your hearth.
Even the strongest trees lean sometimes.

So if you fall—
whether into silence, shadow, or sleep—
I will not let you hit the ground alone.
I’ll be the earth beneath your fall,
the moss that remembers your shape,
the roots that hold your name
and do not let go.

You don’t have to ask.
I am already on my way.

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…

Once, I knew the name I bore,
wrote it bold on every door.
Now, the letters slip like sand,
fading soft beneath my hand.

My laughter echoes, strange and thin,
a song that doesn’t sound like skin.
My dreams grow pale, my voice runs cold,
a story lost, a tale untold.

I am the waves against the stone,
slowly worn and left alone.
A whisper lost, a shadow worn—
a being half, a self outworn.

the trees hum in slow green syllables,
and the wind—
soft as breath against sleeping skin—
slips between the spaces we leave open.

cloudlight spills across your shoulders,
a whisper of morning in hues of mist and mint,
and somewhere, the world forgets its weight.

a petal trembles
on the surface of the pond—
not sinking, not floating,
just… waiting.

you don’t speak.
you don’t have to.
the silence fits
like moss in the shape of your name.

everything softens:
the hours, the outlines,
the ache you thought would stay forever.

here,
time is water.
you are the shore.