When you loved me,
the world paused its rotation,
like even time
knew not to interrupt.
Everything else faded,
noise, doubt,
the version of me
before there was you.

You looked at me
like I was an oasis
in your endless desert.
Like your whole life
had led you here,
and now that you’d found me,
you could finally rest.

You didn’t love me gently.
You loved me like revelation.
Like touching me
meant risking everything,
but you’d already decided
I was worth the scars.

You saw in me
something untouched,
unguarded, and fragile.
A truth not curated,
not shaped by the world.
But the part of me
still soft,
still pure.

And instead of rushing toward it
to claim or change it,
you stood there,
stunned.
Like you didn’t know
whether to protect it
or fall to your knees in hunger.

You held me like I was made
of breath and glass,
something holy and fleeting.
You wanted to wrap your whole being around mine,
not just with desire,
but with devotion.

And still,
there was craving.
There was hunger.

The kind that doesn’t want to consume
to destroy,
but to understand.
To merge.
To belong.
To be lost in another.

And I…
I had never felt more real
than when I was against you.
Never more known
than in the way
you almost trembled
just to be near me.

That kind of love
needs forever
just to make sense of.
It arrives wild,
sets fire to everything you were,
and leaves you standing
in the ruins of unanswered questions.

And now,
no one says my name
with the weight
your voice gave it.
No one looks at me
like I’m both salvation
and temptation.

And maybe that’s a mercy.
Because what if…
I don’t miss you.
I miss being
unforgettable.

when grief sits beside you 6.21.25 (7:21 pm / 19:21)
when grief sits beside you
she doesn’t speak.
she brushes your hair,
whispers meaningless things in your ear.

she pours you tea
in a cracked porcelain cup.
lets you choke.
you grow fond of her.
you call her by her name.

[playing: impossible by clairo]

I still mourn for you
Although you're alive
Living a normal life
I mourn for the future
That had you in it
I mourn for the death
Of the dreams we had
Crying every night
For a love lost once
I mourn for the version
Of us smiling together
I am pleading with anyone
Bring back what is gone
Because I am tired
Of mourning the loss
Of whom I loved

If I let go of the pain,
does it mean we never existed?
If the grief begins to fade,
was it ever really love?

I would rather carry the sorrow
than forget what it meant.
If healing means losing you,
I’ll stay broken.

Dad,

Thank you—for my childhood,

For the safety I never saw, yet always felt.

Thank you for being my teacher through example,

For guiding me not just with words,

But with the quiet strength of your actions.


Thank you for the advice—

Even when I met it with resistance,

Blind to the wisdom time would later reveal.

Thank you for the pain you carried in silence,

For the exhaustion, the tears,

Hidden behind smiles and strength.


Thank you…

For that towel stained with blood from a nose you tried to hide—

A small, unforgettable symbol of all the battles you fought

Without ever letting us feel the weight.

Thank you for being our shield,

Even when your soul was weary.


Now,

Everything is different.

I stumble, I fall, and you’re not here to steady me.

But your voice echoes in my heart,

Your lessons live in my choices,

And your spirit lights my darkest hours.


Now, I face the world alone.

And though I try—each and every day—

This ache, this longing for you,

Is fiercer than any challenge life throws my way.


Sometimes I ask myself…

For how long will this hurt last?

And yet, I hold on—

To your memory,

To your strength,

To the promise I whisper quietly to myself:


Until we meet again.

Now the cuts
have faded to pale seams,
from the girl
who left her key on the counter,
and took the why with her,
and the friend
you hadn’t seen in years
but still called brother,
his paintings hanging quiet on walls
in rooms no longer yours.

like the ghost of an old song,
still in key
you rise again
fingernails dark with soil,
burying sunflower seeds
in morning’s cold fog.

The dog needs feeding.
There’s toast to burn,
and leaves to steep.
You carry your small life
like a cracked bowl
that still holds water.

After years bent in ritual hunger,
knees pressed to rice,
tongue dry from vow,
nights lit like altars,
no revelation came.
No divine telegram.
No trumpet of truth,
just the kitchen humming
and the silence after the call.

Only the widow neighbor,
waving through fogged glass.
Only the pipes in the wall
clunking like an old lung.
Only the light
barging in
without your consent.

You believe in coats
with missing buttons,
safety pins where zippers gave,
old threads that never matched
but held anyway.
You forgive the past
not because it asked
but because you need the room.

It builds in your bones
like wind in an empty house,
constant, uninvited,
and full of old names.
Like a tune half-remembered,
only the hum
remains.

Sleepless nights
Never ending thoughts
All of my life lost
Reminding time never stops

Heart full of love
Mind filled with pain
Too late now to express
All of it goes in vain

Unsent letters, Lay by my side
Once filled with love
Now fills me with pain
To get out of this, I can't find a way

Starts, I see in the sky
Shining even when it's dark
Telling me it's fine
To be better next time



I am shining too

I reply
 no one sees me shining

in these vast skies

The room is dark and cold
Slowly sleep unfolds
To wake up in the morning again
With nothing to gain

grief doesn't knock-
it slips in
wearing her perfume,
that strong vanilla scent
it sits beside me in silence,
and stays longer than memory.