They called him a monster, a shadow, a ghost, The kind of obsession that hurts you the most.
I called him my anchor, though he dragged me down deep, the reason I’d wake, and the reason I’d weep.
He called me erratic, insane, and undone, yet if he had whistled, you know I would run.
Thank god that he blocked me and severed the thread, for I lacked the strength to bury what fled
And moving. Dont know where. Dont know how. But I'm leaving this month
What’s it like to grow up with no mother in sight?
What’s it like to grow up with a dad out of spite. No time to be little, no time to just play, In a home where your presence is just in the way.
What’s it like to grow up with rape torture and pain? What’s it like to grow up begging love all in vain?
To be beaten and broken, completely undone, and carrying the blame because you are the one... The black sheep, the target, the fuck-that-kid bane, Hated right down to the blood in your veins.
No guidance, no lessons, no hand there to guide, just an awkward, fucked kid with nowhere to hide. Forced into a corner, you learn how to stand, and become the solid rock in everyone's hands.
A sanctuary built out of your own jagged scars, they take what they need to fix where they are.
They drain you and use you until you run dry Then they just vanish without a goodbye
They think you can't break because you survived, so they strip every piece that keeps you alive
Growing up without love, without comfort or care, Leaves you jaded and guarded, forever aware.
And the cruelest part of this goddamn mistake?
The moment you shatter, the moment you break, they don't ask what broke you, or how you got there.. They just look at the damage and call it unfair.
They ask why you cracked instead of what you went through.They wanted a shield, not a human in view.
So you carry the world while you're falling apart,
and no one remembers to carry your heart
So whats it like to grow up with no love... only pain? Ask me. And ill tell you while I wait for the grave
In the dream, the distance between past and present seemed to disappear.
I placed myself down at his feet, where love and tenderness would meet, and looked up with unguarded eyes before the hurt and goodbyes.
No speeches made. No grand display. No need to fill the air that day.
I reached for his familiar hand and held it gently in my own. I turned it over, slow and sure, the way I had so many times before.
A kiss upon his fingertips. Another where his thumb would sit. Then I pressed his hand against my face and rested in that sacred space.
Neither of us said a word. We never had to. The silence wasn't empty then. It wrapped around us like a hymn. And there we'd stay for moments long, without a need for right or wrong.
Just him. Just me. Just quiet. Just this. Until at last I'd let him go and settle softly by his side.
And then I woke. The feeling lingered, faint as an echo. Not a sign.Not a promise. Not a message. Only the memory of a devotion that once had a shape.
A hand.
A silence.
A place at someone's feet.
Only the memory of a place
I have never found again.
A quiet tug against the dark, a sudden, soft and phantom spark. I felt it coil beneath my skin, a distant ache I knew had been. I turned away and closed my eyes, feeding the feeling patient lies. It's just a thought, let it depart. Don't go digging through your heart.
But words can linger. Words can stay long after reason walks away. Through the silence of the night, one sentence drifted back into sight:
I never fell out of love
No, let it pass. It doesn't matter. Words are only idle chatter. The years have moved, the wound has closed. Leave sleeping ghosts to their repose.
Yet still that feeling held its place, a gentle pull I could not chase. Not sharp enough to cause alarm, just warm enough to keep its charm. So off to sleep I finally went, convinced the moment had been spent, certain morning's colder light would wash away the curious night.
And then a dream, a dream of you ..
How many knives did you place in my back? Did you count the nerves as you pressed them in, wondering exactly how much weight it would take to bend me completely in half?
Now I stare at the floor, sick with my own disgust, bleeding out for a man who never existed.
Because God help me, I am still homesick for the ghost of the beautiful trap you laid in the beginning.
I hate you.
You call me crazy.
​
That's rich coming from you.
I showed up because I loved you, you strangled me, then called it true.
​
You talk of peace, yet leave scars you won't explain.
​
Funny how I'm still forgiving you while you're still dodging blame.
​
Coward
There was a little cushioned chair beside the doorway of your shop, the kind of thing nobody notices until the memories stop.
We talked about nothing important, just the ordinary day, then I smiled and shed my clothes and watched your whole expression change.
Your eyes grew soft around the edges, like I'd handed you the sun, like of all the things you'd ever seen, somehow I was still the one.
You opened both your arms to me, I settled sideways on your knee, and for a moment in that silence, you looked like home was here with me.
That's the memory I carry now, long after things fell through, not all the blame and bitterness, but the way I once looked back at you.
It's knowing once you looked at me as though I lit the whole damn room, and later couldn't meet my gaze and suddenly I knew the truth.
Now somewhere sits that little chair, beside the doorway of your shop, and all that's left of what we were are memories that never stop.
There was a little cushioned chair beside the doorway of your shop, the kind of thing nobody notices until the memories stop.
We talked about nothing important, just the ordinary day, then I smiled and shed my clothes and watched your whole expression change.
Your eyes grew soft around the edges, like I'd handed you the sun, like of all the things you'd ever seen, somehow I was still the one.
You opened both your arms to me, I settled sideways on your knee, and for a moment in that silence, you looked like home was here with me.
That's the memory I carry now, long after things fell through, not all the blame and bitterness, but the way I once looked back at you.
It's knowing once you looked at me as though I lit the whole damn room, and later couldn't meet my gaze and suddenly I knew the truth.
Now somewhere sits that little chair, beside the doorway of your shop, and all that's left of what we were are memories that never stop.
Once he held my gaze with ease, as though I were his only view,, but something cold had settled in, and suddenly I knew.
No anger burned behind his stare, no guilt, no sorrow left to hide, just empty distance standing there
the man I loved had died.
He took my spirit, piece by piece, and offered me no form of peace. He painted me the villain there, while standing clear of his own share.
The push and pull, the web he spun, until my sense of self was gone. He hated truth, he blamed my mind, for all the wreckage left behind. But in the space he left behind, I finally reclaimed my mind.
The chase is done, the path is clear...
There is no "us" remaining here.
Because nobody talks about this part of the grief. When you’re begging yourself for a second's relief. Waking up broken, exhausted, and drained, from a midnight survival you never explained.
Your heart spent the evening out fighting a war, for a kingdom your mind doesn't want anymore. My mind knows the truth. My mind is aware. It knows that it left and it’s no longer there. It knows that I cannot love someone to stay, when they’ve already turned and walked completely away.
So why does my chest keep on filing appeals?
Ignoring the scars and the way that it feels?
Why is my heart acting totally blind, to the verdict already passed down by my mind?
I keep asking around how they got over the ghost, how they finally let go of what killed them the most. But nobody gives me the answer I need, they just tell me that time is gonna bandage the bleed.
But what if it doesn't? What if it stays? What if you're trapped in the maze of those days?
Because nobody talks about this part of the grief, when you’re begging yourself for a second's relief.
I need to love, it’s all I know, So losing you has laid me low.
I begged my heart, I fought, I tried, but some things cannot be denied. You’re done with me. I hear it now.
I just don’t know the fucking how....
How to wake up and not reach through a life that still belongs to you. You’ve chosen now to walk away;
No chance for me, no words to say. Okay, that’s fine. I’ll hold the door, i won’t go begging anymore.
So have it all the love, the breath, a final gift, a quiet death.
I'll carry on because I must
And bury you beside my trust
Another night, another sin, the same old war beneath my skin.
Life around me dulls and dims, and hope feels worn around the rims.
I search the dark for something new, a reason strong enough to pull me through.
But every road bends back again, to old ghosts wearing different names.
Am I alone in this quiet, internal war?
Has anyone else ever broken this way before?
Tell me someone else has stood in the debris, trapped by a ghost that refuses to leave.
I’ve loved before this, I’ve survived the goodbye, I’ve watched the smoke clear under a different sky.
Eventually, the heart and the mind would align, the bleeding would stop, and the choices were mine.
But this is a fracture, a fault in the frame, a mechanical failure that whispers his name.
My mind dug the grave, it was buried and done, so why does the ache still outrun the sun? Why do I wake to him holding my thoughts, untying the knots that the sanity wrought?
I don't understand how one person could hold a grip on my spirit this fierce and this bold.
I have spent months trying to reason with scars, searching for lessons under indifferent stars. But all I keep finding is the very same pull...
Mind screaming empty.
Chest screaming full.
It’s a horrific thing to be trapped in your skin, when the person who breaks you is reigning within.
I used to control, I used to drive the wheel, now I’m just a passenger to the things that I feel.
Dragged down a road where I don’t want to go, chained to a current that’s entirely too slow.
How do you kill what refuses to die?
How do you force a dead fountain to dry?
God knows I have bargained, I’ve tried to be cold, I’ve tried using anger to break through the hold. I’ve handed my heart every reason to leave, and it just comes back, with his name on its sleeve.
So the altars have changed, and the pleas are all new. I am no longer praying for a way back to you. I don’t pray for a rewrite, a spark, or a sign I am down on my knees to this body of mine.
Please let me wake to a different sky. Please let the well of this longing run dry. Give me one morning where his ghost isn't there, And my chest isn't heavy with the weight of his care. Not to God, not to fate, not to the sky above I am begging my own heart for mercy from love.
Am I alone in this quiet, internal war?
Has anyone else ever broken this way before?
Tell me someone else has stood in the debris, trapped by a ghost that refuses to leave.
I’ve loved before this, I’ve survived the goodbye, I’ve watched the smoke clear under a different sky.
Eventually, the heart and the mind would align, the bleeding would stop, and the choices were mine.
But this is a fracture, a fault in the frame, a mechanical failure that whispers his name.
My mind dug the grave, it was buried and done, so why does the ache still outrun the sun? Why do I wake to him holding my thoughts, untying the knots that the sanity wrought?
I don't understand how one person could hold a grip on my spirit this fierce and this bold.
I have spent months trying to reason with scars, searching for lessons under indifferent stars. But all I keep finding is the very same pull...
Mind screaming empty.
Chest screaming full.
It’s a horrific thing to be trapped in your skin, when the person who breaks you is reigning within.
I used to control, I used to drive the wheel, now I’m just a passenger to the things that I feel.
Dragged down a road where I don’t want to go, chained to a current that’s entirely too slow.
How do you kill what refuses to die?
How do you force a dead fountain to dry?
God knows I have bargained, I’ve tried to be cold, I’ve tried using anger to break through the hold. I’ve handed my heart every reason to leave, and it just comes back, with his name on its sleeve.
So the altars have changed, and the pleas are all new. I am no longer praying for a way back to you. I don’t pray for a rewrite, a spark, or a sign I am down on my knees to this body of mine.
Please let me wake to a different sky. Please let the well of this longing run dry. Give me one morning where his ghost isn't there, And my chest isn't heavy with the weight of his care. Not to God, not to fate, not to the sky above I am begging my own heart for mercy from love.
One day you'll swear you dodged a bullet, and wear that lie like armor above.
Yet wonder why nothing ever stays, or gives you more than borrowed love.
You'll say you escaped some great disaster, a tale you'll tell when times get rough.
But some men spend their whole lives fleeing the very thing they claim to want so much.
Mistaking devotion for danger
Mistaking patience for a cage
Then looking back through empty years
And finding only their own mistakes.
How do I beg and plead and stay, For a man who said I earned that day? Who looked at bruises, tears, and fear, And somehow made the fault appear
To rest with me, and not with you, As though the hurt was mine to do.
You called me liar, time again, Yet what of all the truths you'd bend? The stories changed when they were told, The facts grew different, new, and old.
Yet somehow every trial and scar, Returned to where my failures are.
I said I'd leave and tried to run, But my heart was never truly done. Because home was never walls or stone, It was the place I felt less alone. And every time I'd walk away, I'd find myself back there someday.
Not to hurt you, not to fight,
Not to prove that I was right.
I only wanted one more chance. To fall back into our old romance.
To lay my head upon your chest, And find a moment's peace and rest.
Sometimes you'd let me come back through, Just enough to feel close to you. But never quite the way before, Never opening all the door.
Yet did you ever stop to see
How often I protected thee?
How many times I bent the truth, To shield your actions from the proof?
How many times I took the blame, To keep you safe from hurt and shame?
I told myself that I deserved
The anger that you often served. I pushed aside what you put me through, And carried guilt that belonged to you.
The violence and the things you'd say, I packed them up and hid away.
And when they'd ask me what was true, I'd still search for the good in you.
Because I know the man I knew, And maybe somewhere you do too.
I know in both of us there lies A darker self we sometimes hide. But shadows do not have to stay, Nor rule the choices that we make.
I never wanted mine for you, And yours should never wound me too.
I always hoped we'd learn to see, The people we were meant to be.
I loved you then, I love you still, And part of me always will. Not because everything was right, But because I saw your darkest night.
I chose you when the road grew steep, When promises were hard to keep.
I chose you when it hurt to do
And only wished you'd choose me too.
The way you weaponized the past, And made my memory the crime,
While your own stories changed so fast To suit your truth from time to time.
I brought you raw, unguarded pain, The deepest wounds I had to show,
But you turned every tear to rain And washed away what you still owed.
You built a cage of right and wrong, Where only I was locked inside,
While you walked free and sang your song, With every shifting truth you'd hide.
You call it lying when I stay, And fail to leave when I once spoke,
But it was love that lost its way, And just a desperate heart that broke.
You counted every fault of mine, Held each mistake up to the light,
Yet somehow yours escaped the line, And vanished quietly from sight.
So tell me truly, if you dare, which one of us rewrote the past?
I may have stumbled in despair, but I was never built from masks.
"Don't make me do this," you said to me, "You promised me this wouldn't be."
I looked at you and softly sighed, Already hurting deep inside. "It's okay," I said that day, "You'd probably leave again anyway."
I'd heard the warnings, felt the strain, Watched hope return, then leave again.
I tried so hard not to block your path, Not to hold on past aftermath.
I told myself I'd set you free,
If staying wasn't where you'd be. But then you'd call, or then you'd stay, Just long enough to light the way.
Then disappear without goodbye, Leaving me alone to wonder why.
You kept coming back, I don't know why, All it ever did was make me cry.
You'd mend the wound just enough to start, Then tear it open through my heart.
And still I sit and still I ache,
Wondering if you've made a mistake.
Wondering if someday you'll come back, To fill the space your leaving cracked.
But if I'm honest, looking back, That's the truth my heart still lacks.
You kept coming back, I don't know why, Filling me with hope that wouldnt die.
Then you'd leave and I'd break apart, Carrying the pieces of my heart.
Maybe that's the truth I never faced, Why all your love felt out of place.
Because no matter how hard I tried, I was always standing on your side.
And maybe you cared, maybe you did, Maybe some of it wasn't hid.
But I don't think you loved me back, Not enough to walk my path