somewhere along the lines my favorite colors got blurred.
it was forever blue until it was silver
silver didn't last long I liked porcelain more
that one didn't last long either I learned to love red.
red always went away I liked white to though.
but only the kind of silver you can write with on the porcelain.
the silver that turns the porcelain red and cuts it.
the silver that tears you apart
leaves you with little white scars
so I guess I like white to now?
wow that red didn't last long but it sure pains me to see it go.
the silver is pretty though I still like it but
it  still looks even prettier pressed on the porcelain skin of my arm or thigh in the winter time
so I guess I still like porcelain to?
but then the skin rips under the silver
it turns red and I remember how much I liked red.
a it fades to white I think about my colors and why I like them.
from blue to silver to skin color to red to white.

Why do we do it?
Why do we cut ourselves?
Why do we burn ourselves?
Why would anyone ever harm themselves on purpose?
Why?
Is it to feel some kind of physical pain to silence the pain in our heads,
Or is it to feel like our mental pain is valid too?
Is it worth it for only a few seconds of relief?
Is it worth the struggles of addiction and hiding it from everyone?
Is it worth it to have your showers stinging after?
Why do we start to crave the pain that comes from SH?
Maybe everyone has their own reasonings but its all the same,
It's all hurting yourself to feel something.
Now all you crave is that release no matter how it's done, it's all you want.
Almost like a drug addict you're addicted to the pain the release.
Then it's got you, you're stuck and you go back to the question.
Why?
Why did I ever start this sick cycle?
Why do I keep going?
Why can't I stop now?
Why is it so addicting?
But no matter how much you question it you simply can never fully quit,
You simply can never do something wrong without it being your first thought anymore.
And here we are back to the question.
Why?

Part 3 - H

07 April 2025

"The Last Goodbye (Love Like Wounds)"
You were the kind of love
they write tragedies about.
A wild, aching secret
I kept buried beneath my ribs,
like a song I wasn’t allowed to sing—
but did, anyway.
I loved you
with every shattered part of me.
With hands that never stopped trembling.
With a heart that kept returning to your fire,
even when it knew
I’d be left in ashes.

You were the silence
after the scream.

The hush of pain
disguised as comfort.
The wound that cut deep
so deep—
but never stayed.

You hurt me
in ways I still don’t have names for.
Left traces of yourself in my skin
like bruises shaped like promises.
And still,
I loved you.
Like I didn’t know better.
Like I didn’t know how not to.
You touched me
and the world disappeared.

Not in light—
but in shadow.

And I swore it was beautiful
because I couldn’t bear to call it what it was:

lonely.

Hollow.

Dangerous.

I miss you
like an addict misses the ache.
Like a ghost misses the body it once haunted.
I miss you in that quiet, trembling way
people miss what destroyed them.
And oh—
how I remember
your crimson red kiss.

Forbidden.

Fierce.

A sacred wound I kept reopening.
It tasted like surrender,
like sorrow,
like the end of the world
wrapped in silk.
I wore your love like a secret—
and bled for it in silence.
I still wake up
with your name caught between my teeth.
Still feel the phantom of you
in every breath I take.
Still ache for the way
you made even pain feel like intimacy.
But love
should not be something
I survive.

It should not ask me
to trade myself in pieces
just to be held.

You were my forbidden.
My undoing.

The ache that sang lullabies
in a language only I could understand.
But I can’t do it anymore.
I can’t keep kissing knives
and calling it devotion.
I can’t keep breaking just to feel something.
This—
this is my goodbye.
Not soft.
Not easy.
But final.
Because I may still grieve you—
may still wake up
missing the way you held my chaos—
but I will not go back.

I deserve mornings
that don’t start with aching.

Hands that touch me without burning.
Love that doesn’t leave me
emptier than before.

I still carry your name in my bones,
but it no longer commands me.
I still dream of you—
but I no longer beg the dream to stay.
I loved you
with everything I had.
And now I let you go
with everything I’ve become.
You were never forever.
You were a wound that taught me
what healing could feel like.

This is my last goodbye.
Not a whisper—
a promise.

Because I once let you carve yourself into me—
but now,
I reclaim the space.
And that—
that is the most beautiful thing
I have ever done.
My healing journey over the years. It's very long but trust me. It is worth it.

Part two
19 June 2023

"The Kiss I Can’t Survive" - V
It starts like a whisper—
barely there—
a flicker behind my ribs,
a soft sting beneath my skin,
then suddenly—
you’re everywhere.
You're in my bloodstream,
in my breath,
in every ******* thought I swore I buried.
You show up
like you never left.
And I forget.
I forget how bad it gets.
I forget how you break me.
Because God—
you make me feel so alive.
You make me feel like I matter.
Like I’m not a ghost wearing skin.
Like someone, something—you—
see me.

Touch me.

Hold me.

You kissed my skin like it was the last thing worth loving.
You wrapped me up in lies that felt like lullabies.
And I let you.
Every. ****. Time.
I miss you like sinners miss heaven.
Like lungs miss air after the scream.
Like a broken heart misses the hand that shattered it.
I ache for you.
Do you hear me?
I ache—
bone-deep, soul-shaking,
nails-digging-into-my-own-skin ache.
Because every blood-red kiss you left on me
felt like poetry.
Like maybe I was art.
Like maybe pain was the only language
I ever truly spoke.
You gave me peace.
The kind that cuts.
The kind that hushes every voice in my head
and replaces it with one

Yours.

And you whispered:
"You're still alive."
And I believed you,
because only you could make me feel
in a world that went numb.
But that silence—
that still, dangerous silence—
was never safety.

It was a funeral.

A ritual.

A sacrifice.

And I was always the offering.
I want you.
God, I want you like fire wants air.
Like waves want to crash.
Like hands want to hold the blade
just to feel something again.
But if I give in—
if I even taste you—
I don’t come back.
Not this time.
Because you are not a memory.
You are a trap.
A tightrope strung between life and death.
One wrong step—
and I’m gone.
I gave you power once.
I let you reign.
Bowed my head and called it devotion.
Worshipped you with my wounds
and asked for nothing in return but relief.
I laid myself at your feet like a ******* prayer.
But even holy things can **** you.
Even gods can leave you bleeding.
And now?
Now I burn for you
in silence.
In defiance.
With every ounce of love that still claws inside me

I walk away.
Because loving you
is choosing the end.
And I still have stories left to write.
So I let you go.
With trembling hands
and fire in my chest.
I let you go—
not because I want to,
but because I have to.
Because if I say yes to you again—
I say no to everything else.
To healing.
To hope.
To life.

Forbidden love Series
An unspoken promise -G
16 November  2021
Part 1

It's the itch and burn I feel on my skin when I think about you.
  Its the fact that once you slip into My thoughts I don't see why you are so bad.
You make me feel whole, you make me feel like I am not alone.
You kissed my skin and told me everything will be okay.
I know once you pop up it will take me a million years to walk away. A forbidden affair.

I miss how each blood red kiss was an unspoken love poem.
A beautiful promise.
A moment of peace and understanding.
You helped me escape.
You remind me that I am still alive. 
That the warm thick blood that runs through my veins keep me alive.

Oh how I ache to just check to see if I am still alive. To make sure that this numb feeling is not just in my mind.


I ache for your silence. A silence that is a deadly wish.
An addiction that had me clawing to feel your serenity.
As much as I grieve you I can't give you that power back.
I can't feel your sweet kisses across my skin.  I cannot fall back into your warm embrace because the minute I let my guard down is the is the minute I fall into your trap.

A trap that has a fine line between life and death. 

I gave you the power to rule my life once. I gave you all my control and I want to lay my trust in you as a god fearing servant does to their almighty God.

But just like God, I have to turn my back on you and walk away.

Slice.
I get mad,
Slice.
I get frustrated,
Slice.
I get stressed,
Slice.
I get sad,
Slice.

All I do is slice.
all I can do is slice.
all I know is to slice.
all I want to do is slice.
all I love is to
Slice.

I try.
I really do.
Nothing works.
Forgive me, will you?

I've loved.
It hurt.
Never again.
Care for me, will you?

I've tried to forget.
It always comes back.
Back to hurt me.
Protect me, will you?

I've hurt myself.
I many ways.
It helps me cope.
Stop me, will you?

I've tried smiling.
It never lasts.
I'm not happy.
Cheer me up, will you?

I can't breathe.
I can't live.
It hurts so much.
Help me, will you?

once you dig the razor in too deep
you know youve crossed a line
in more ways than one

physically;
youve cut deeper than
you ever have before

and then
mentally;
you cannot go back now