How can i ask god for a lover
when he didn't even give me a father

A lover boy, not destined for real love. He holds love like grains of sand, slipping through his fingers no matter how tightly he clings. Each touch, a fleeting promise; each gift, fragile yet profound. Yet nothing stays, everything shifts away, dissolving into the ether. Every heart he’s held, every vow whispered, felt like the final door, the last chance. But love, to him, is like thin air, a bond of whispers that scatters before it can take root. His world is built on trembling ground, every shot to the heart threatening to bring it down. Each kiss plants gardens, only for them to wilt before they’re truly found. Hands reach for him, yearning for the warmth he carries, but all that lingers is his name, murmured into the night. At first glance, love blooms, sweet and sacred, a delicate dance of entwined souls. He gives all of his borrowed light, yet shadows creep through the cracks. No matter how hard he tries to stay, the tide pulls love from his grasp. The warmth of his touch fades; his love, no matter how pure, never seems to hold. He’s a witness to his own heartbreak, time and time again, a love wilting before its prime. Each time, he assures himself, ‘this one will be different’, but the truth remains elusive. Perhaps his heart is wreathed in thorns, unfit to be held or owned. Yet deep within, he longs for a love that roots itself firmly, weathering even the fiercest storms. But for every wall he builds, cracks form in the mortar. The weight of love bears down until all collapses into dust, leaving behind the remnants of broken trust. He wants to stay, to hold on, but love always seems to come with chains and whispers of fear. It vanishes the moment he reaches for it. And when love leaves, he mourns not only its loss but the life it promised, a life of unwavering devotion, never truly begun. Every soul he’s hurt carries that pain, stretching across time like an echo of his own sorrow. If only standing still, planting his feet, could anchor the love he holds so dear. But every time he tries, it slips away, a sun disappearing over the horizon, leaving emptiness in its wake. He’s not meant for what others dream of: the steady fire, the gentle stream. His heart burns brightly, a beacon in the night, but the love it craves is always just beyond his reach, a fleeting flame, extinguished by the winds of fate.

In the grand spell of words, let me etch this sentiment into your heart –
I find myself so tired, like a Toyota limping along with a missing hubcap.
My carpet smile, never held the weight it should have; you revelled in
The tickle of my beard as our lips met. Yet, as soon as we grew distant,
I shaved it away, a symbol of our fading connection, a relic of this
Relationship becoming one of long distance.

Typing my feelings onto the screen, though the true message of them
Weren’t delivered so well, failing to convey the depth of my despair.
I began to loathe myself, believing that the love I once held for you
Was a tether, leading you on to lead you astray. “I’m sorry,” I whisper,
But deep down, I always knew you were destined for someone far
Greater than I could ever be, or at the very least, someone who would
See you as the answer to their most fervent prayers.

I guess you weren't the answer to my prayers...

Repost;

koi fariyaad tere dil mein dabi ** jaise
tune aankhon se koi baat kahi ** jaise

It feels as if there is some request hidden in your heart,
as if you have said something with your eyes.

jaagte jaagte ek umr kaTi ** jaise
jaan baaki hai magar saans ruki ** jaise

It feels like a lifetime has passed, awake,
like there is life remaining, while breath isn't there.

har mulaakat pe mehsoos yehi hota hai
mujhse kuchh teri nazar poochh rahi ** jaise

everytime we meet, I get a feeling
as if your eyes are asking me something.

raah chalte hue aksar yeh Gumaan hota hai
wo nazar chhup ke mujhe dekh rahi ** jaise

while walking down a path, I often feel
like your eyes are watching me from hiding.

ek lamhe mein simaT aaya hai sadiyon ka safar
zindagi tez, bahut tez, chali ** jaise

a journey of ages has wound up in just one moment,
as if life has moved fast, very fast.

is tarah pehron tujhe sochta rehta hoon main
meri har saans tere naam likhi ** jaise

I keep thinking about you for hours in such a way,
as if every breath of mine was just yours.

She wanted to blow a hole
Inside the temple of tomorrow,
Ripping the facade of false hope,
Shattering dreams she cannot borrow.

"Tell me! Accept me! Forgive my weaknesses!"
The screams of a soul torn apart,
A monster forged in the furnace of hatred,
Their abuse painted across her heart.

Only the burn of chemicals calms the beast,
Trapped in the past, never released.
Another hit to muffle the cries,
But demons resurface as the high dies.

Death whispers with a silencer's breath,
Golden child lies in the shadow of death.
She, the unwanted, she, the broken,
Rage withdraws where words are unspoken.

He never fought them, never stood tall,
Just smiled as she crumbled, watching her fall.
"Look in the mirror, who will save you now?"
Her reflection screams, but she doesn’t know how.

Comfort carved in the lines of her flesh,
Destruction's lover, her only caress.
"Don’t leave me all alone!" she cries,
Echoes of pain through empty skies.

A child estranged, silent and cold,
Unaware of the horrors untold.
She bears the weight, the scars of despair,
A temple in ruins, no one left to care.

So she screams to the void,
To the gods of tomorrow,
Take her sorrow, take her sorrow!
But they leave her hollow.

The time has come, sacred moments dissolve,
Death is near, in fevered sleep she shudders,
Which God will intercept, which will absolve
The cruel execution of all she was.

The tarot cards laid, a commitment of words,
Symbols splayed like scattered bones—
She gazed at the past without shame,
Misfortune befell her, but she bore no blame.

Her Mama didn’t tell her, but she was pregnant with hope,
A fragile thread spun in the thick silence of her family.
He never wanted her; his cruelty the well she fell into,
Distant, manic decisions thickened the air with dread.

A loyal stranger came—one she remembered.
His face, a forgotten constellation,
Lush with delicate promise, a future reimagined,
Yet lost without him, innocence reborn
Only in the darkened quiet of mourning halls.

Her home, her body, no pardon granted,
A flight of black-winged lies,
Receding violin strings, a violent serenade—
The twinkle of mischief in a past love’s eyes,
A storyteller spinning laughter to mask the wounds.

Will reality recover in celebration,
Or crumble under the weight of sacred shame?
No certainty remains, only the violin’s wail,
And the thick silence of her family—
Forever in mourning, forever without absolution.

The eyes—mirrors of sins, fragments of something deeper, darker—reflected back as she stared, hollow but alive in the stillness. She felt the starvation of the beast within her, pacing, clawing, a quiet desperation gnawing at her ribs. Her wings spread like the golden dawn's promise, a cruel mirage of escape, yet the weight of life pulled her back, anchoring her to the earth.

In the quiet hours, he whispered, we’re always alone, and the words nestled like burrs in her mind, scratching, lingering. She felt their truth seep in, unavoidable and raw, threading itself into the fabric of her mind like stitches holding together a wound that refused to heal.

Vivid dreams clawed at her in sleep—visions of other lives, other faces, shadowed figures speaking to her in gestures, fingers dancing in sign language, secrets woven in the air. She would wake in paralysis, shackled in silence, eyes wide as if staring into a void that she knew was watching her, always watching.

Scars of hope, she thought, tracing the lines on her arms, the stories she'd written in flesh, layered beneath the numb veil of sedatives. She had cut past ties in time, sharp and clean, slicing away the tethers that bound her to memory, to faces that no longer lingered in her dreams. Every attempt had been a rebirth, each suicide a reawakening of truth. And yet, she had awoken again, the wilting pulse of survival pressing her forward.

The elders would decide—her fate, her future, as if it were some verdict to be handed down from faceless arbiters of her despair. She walked into the darkness as if it were her home, her familiar lover, arms open to its hollow embrace, knowing it would never abandon her. There were no more tomorrows, only a slow descent into silence, punctuated by the beat of a dying heart.

And as the night stretched on, she listened

A multitude of firsts.
Some he takes,
others I give freely.