The Beast broke free, love set him whole,
While I remain, a Phantom soul.
His curse was lifted, his heart now sings,
But my humanity only stings.

No mask of fur, no monstrous guise,
Just human hands and hollow cries.
A heart that yearns, a fate unkind—
A curse of flesh, a shattered mind.

The Beast found joy, his pain released,
But I, unmasked, am still the beast.

Hunger changes everything.
Although everyone and everything has intention,
hunger is no different, no matter what it's for.
Your heart, an apple dangling from a branch
I could not reach until I became hungry.
It became the object not just of affection,
but of my appetite.
I wanted not only to bite into it,
but to savor what makes you, you.
I reached until I grabbed it,
the apple that is your heart.
No matter how the branch swayed,
I was determined.

Under any other circumstance,
I would not have touched it,
maintaining composure when it came to
the apple of your heart.
Overthinking myself out of what could have been
one of the most beautiful things,
feeling unworthy,
until hunger made me notice you more.
Want turned to craving,
and I realized that the most precious things
erode and disappear over time.
Half smiling, yet anticipating change,
I know that, in time, I, too, will erode
remembering how sweet you were,
inviting me to quench
not just my hunger, but my thirst.
After a while, it wasn’t about hunger at all.
I just wanted to be close to you

I say I hate you, but it’s a lie, and I’m sorry for it. There could never be a moment where I truly despise you, not even if I summoned all my will to try. It’s not you I loathe, it’s the storm you’ve left raging inside me. I hate the rawness you carve into me, the way your absence coils tight around my chest, stealing my breath and smothering the air. I hate how I sit here waiting for you, silent and small, hoping with every fiber that your name will light up my screen again. I want you to text me, to give me the chance to tell you about the way the sunlight hit perfectly today or to share the words others have spoken to me. I want to tell you how I can’t stop thinking about you, how I ache for you to be here. But part of me wants you to push me away, to block me, to tell me I’m unworthy. To say I’m awful, that you can’t stand the thought of me. Maybe then, I’d have permission to stop craving you, stop needing the space you fill so effortlessly. I hate you. I hate this. But really, I’m lying. I miss you. I love you. And that, more than anything, is what I hate most of all.

There are dreams I’ve folded, tucked away tight,
Like old forgotten clothes, out of mind, out of sight.
One dream is my family, proud, happy, and strong,
But in truth, they’re splintered, fighting who’s right, who’s wrong.

Another was of healing, of wearing a vet’s coat,
Or moving the masses with the words that I wrote.
Helping the helpless, animals small and in need,
A life lived in service, a world I could lead.

I dreamt of a wedding, a dress pure as snow,
Walking the aisle, to see your smile’s glow.
I dreamt of a farm, vast and self-sustained,
With crops that thrive and animals well-trained.

But the dream I can’t fold, the one that won’t fade,
Is the thought of a child, a love never swayed.
It’s wrapping gifts from “Santa” late Christmas Eve,
It’s seeing you hold them, as they sleep and believe.

It’s watching them grow, teaching what’s right,
Helping them learn from what keeps them up at night.
This dream, I hold close, though I dare not say,
It lingers with me, every step, every day.

I don’t ask for this dream, nor expect it to be,
But it clings to my heart, a part of me.
Folded, yet vivid, it whispers, not yet,
For some dreams stay alive, though they’re placed in regret.

I know I shouldn’t. Logic wages a steady battle, reason standing firm, but desire roars louder, wild and relentless. If you were to so much as text me, my fingers would fly to the notification before my heart could catch its rhythm, answering without a moment’s pause. That soft glow of a message lighting up my dark room would feel like it’s illuminating my soul, flooding me with a dangerous kind of pleasure. If you called, I’d only pause to steady my breath, to mask the trembling in my voice, the longing hidden in that first fragile “hello.” Every word I speak would slip through the cracks of the dam I’ve tried so hard to build, spilling out in a stream of quiet yearning. I know I shouldn’t, but you’ve always had this way of unraveling me. You’re the melody I can’t forget, the gravity that holds me no matter how far I try to stray. And if you wanted me, I’d be yours again, without question, without hesitation. Over and over, for eternity.

Morning light-
mourning light.
"O Night I miss
you so.
Fastest in the
universe but for
our love too slow."