And my kingdom has fallen too,  
though I tried so hard to save its glory.  
All the gods and goddesses I served  
are upset with me. I'm so sorry.  

I could easily rise above the ground,  
if I only wanted to—I was so strong.  
But I've lost again what I once found,  
They were right, and I was wrong.  

Look at us; we are running away  
from the country that used to be our home.  
I never thought I could betray  
my own land, my own people, my soul.  

It's too late to sit and whine;  
it's too late to seek any forgiveness.  
Too late to turn back the hands of time.  
I'm the killer, the victim, and the witness.  

I could run, join them, and disappear,  
leaving cities of ruins behind.  
But I'll stay here; that's all I can do.  
I'll stay here and admit my crime.

our bodies a carnival of mismatched why
the curves of a whisper, the strength of a sigh
they merge in a dance,  trompe l'oeil meets the sky
no labels fit no definitions hold
we are free to invent the rules of the fold
with every step our shadows multiply
we chase the echoes of a surrendered reply
in the androgynous abyss there is delight
a space for contrast to become light

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. 🥀

walking a rowdy street
tight grip on the leash
streetlight lays it bare
light pooling on my reach

panorama:
 the leash, in pieces

Anna in daylight,
 hands steady, calm and bright
 embracing cracked margins —
 called it love, her rite

but her fawn,
 beneath thorny shadows drawn
 the same leash condemned
 its trembling spirit wan

broken—
 yet a gift unspoken

street cries, in sight
echo through the night