You said you would forget me—
like restless waves upon the sea,
crashing in the eyes.
You said—
in the city of love, now turned to ashes,
you fear to walk again,
lest one spark
burn your heart once more.

You fear—
oh, how deeply you fear—
not man,
but the shadow of man.
A small man, a small life—
is it light behind the shadow,
or shadow behind the light?

Simple words falter upon the lips—
what I wish to say,
what I end up saying.

You said: Do not return.
In the heavy black monsoon of sorrow,
you walked away.
But will your rain-soaked grief
ever fall again, Beloved?

Today I am like a star, veiled in clouds—
dimmed, lost to myself.
A wandering soul,
burning with the desire
to exist
within your existence.

And yet—
I will sit and wait
on the riverbank of life.
If you wish,
you may return once more,
sailing across in the boat of longing.

I think love is wonderful.
When I imagine it, I see fingers intertwined.
Cuddles on the couch.
I see two people opening themselves up fully to one another—
and not running away from what they find.

My version of love is everything that should be...
not what I, as a little girl, have seen.
My version of love holds no place for control.
No room for lies dripping in sugar.
In my version of love, you hold each other up.
You make each other better,
and everything feels lighter when you're together.

Because, hey—
nothing says "I don't love you" like screaming words behind closed doors.
Like the emptiness of countless sorries.
Like trying not to set a person off
who is supposed to be your "significant other."

My love is... confusion.

I don't know if I can catch feelings.
My butterfly-catching net is frayed and torn,
so they just keep flying away.
It seems so easy and natural for them...
I just wish I knew for sure.

Could love ever be in the air?
Or is friendship truly where the line ends?

I've been so focused on self-love and self-growth
that I've not been able to see beyond me.
When I try,
there is only emptiness—
and more questions.

What I want to know is this:
Why can't me, myself and I be enough?
Why does everyone I meet
see me as incomplete
without a man or woman on my arm?

I know I love my things,
my music and my art.
Tisane, quiet contemplation,
and poetry.

Maybe the loves I've seen
have left my heart scattered.
Maybe The One is still out there...
but maybe they just aren't.

Kissing is weird.
*** is weird.
It's almost always the last thing on my mind—
it's just not something that I crave.

Let alone trying to get someone
to like me enough
to even want to do those things with me—
seems like so much EFFORT.

...is being alone really so bad?

Maybe I'm not built for romance,
but GODS does it seem wonderful...
I just don't know if that kind of love is for me.

Show me where the blade
dug so deep it left a scar.
I felt your pain long before
I ever heard your voice.
I was dancing to the symphony
of your broken heart—
its wreckage left me breathless.

Did you feel it too?
That you were too much,
and never enough?
The urge to tear off your own wings,
sink into the abyss,
consume your flesh,
devour desire,
and walk into fire?

You sing like someone
with gasoline in their veins,
blood set alight,
pleas turned to smoke
as desperation claws your skin.

Are you like me?
Waiting for a hand in the dark,
longing to be understood?
Your pain bleeds through every note,
yet when you open your mouth
no sound comes out right.
Have you ever wondered
if heaven hears your prayers?

Who made you cry like that?
Who broke you open like that?
Are you yearning for a savior,
or waiting to earn salvation?

I felt your soul
long before your voice reached me—
crawling, begging.
Do you want to share your pain with me,
or sit with mine?
Let me touch it,
cradle it close to my chest.

I won’t mend your heart,
I won’t stitch your wounds—
but I will hear you.
I always have,
even before I understood.
The weight of your words
presses down on my chest
like a loaded gun,
cold against my skin.

Show me where the blade
dug so deep it left a scar.
Will our paths ever cross?
Let me hold your sorrow.
Rest here until it no longer hurts.
Sing to me until fate collides with mercy—
let me embrace your pain away.


- N.V. 🥀

...Open your eyes, to me.

I want to spiral, around you,
beyond the dark, infinite wall.
I want to transcend, your physical;
to lure you on, and away
into a purple field, of Freyja's daisies
with nimble, metaphysical fingers--
beckoning beyond,
the starry curtain,
of crystalline dreams.

Will you let my arms,
circle your Roman neck,
like verdant vines
and pull you further, in?

Can you feel my smile,
sun the slant,
of your beloved cheek,
and can you photosynthesize
into new life, with me
even as you re-seed, in darkness?

I want to whisper,
sweet words:
devotion, and desire
into the well, of your ear...
until they roar, and pound
with the sacred force,
of white rapids...

swollen to riptides,
in the conch shell,
of your churning mind.

I want to weave, around your flesh
and speak, a love spell
into your shifting, Lycan eyes.
An incantation, that plays,
with the blue ghost, of your flame,
and ignites, the candle of your soul,
on its breathy sighs...

...melodic tones.

There is no heart,
quite like yours.
It pulses, beneath my hand,
like drums, of war.
Gladiator...

take me, to your Colosseum.

I want to wander
the upper echelon,
of its throbbing chambers.
I want to feel you ache, for me
in your left ventricle...
soft, warm flesh,
perfectly preserved, in golden amber.

I want to gaze,
into the blinding sun,
until my eyes, tear...
closer to heaven,
than ever I've been.  

Darling, what do you see,
when you look at me?
Salvation,
or ruin?
Vikingr longships...

or Valhalla...?

I pray...that one day...
you will take my soft hand,
into the Titan strength, of yours,
and not perceive it,
as an instrument
in the ruin, and wreckage, of you.

I ardently pray, that, one day...
you'll come, to bathe
in the Baltic blue, of my eyes...

and never fear, again,
that they could drown you.











...Let me take you...home.

Je me fonds en Elle
        que même lorsque les grillons cessent de chanter
        je me retrouve toujours allongé
        avec mes myriades de pensées
        à la contempler,

La nuit.

Et Vénus se marie avec mes yeux,
        reflète verte dans mes pupilles
Elle me dit de m’endormir mais,
        j’en suis incapable

Voilà des années que je la regarde sans jamais
        pouvoir la sentir
Et pourtant, elle mourra avec moi,