Hopelessly devoted to you
I long for you to
Caress and undress me delicately
Yet, I yearn for the heart you’ve burned
That’s to never be returned
Coated by your touch aware I’ll never be enough

There are marionette strings sewed into nine places: to each leg, hand, shoulder, and ear, and at the base of my spine. I’m completely and utterly entangled. Each tug of the strings tears at my flesh and nerves. I’m in agony, each wave of pain leaving me more helpless. My cries for the torment to end fall on deaf ears. I try to fake a better feeling by clinging to a fantasy that offers a brief escape.

I can't **** this pain,
Not with a knive or pencil,
Not with foul words or soft lips,
Not with caring hands or a fist.

It is the pain of a love
Where once more Cupid missed.

Remember they're monsters

Not just in theory, but really

It's no longer about the evidence

(If it ever was...)

But a call to collusion

They want you silent

Unless you recite after them

So they can write papers

On pipe dreams

The moon has seen everything,
but it never speaks.
It just lingers—
half-lit, half-lost,
dragging tides and secrets in its wake.

I asked it once,
"Did he ever mean it?"
"Will the ache dissolve like salt in water?"
"Why do I still dream in his voice?"
The moon only blinked,
a quiet refusal wrapped in silver.

Nights like this,
I fold myself into the dark,
press my ear against the silence,
listening for answers
that do not come.

Maybe love is just a sky full of questions.
Maybe healing is learning
to stop waiting for the moon to reply.

I have flown here
to whisper sweet words
from beyond

the silent voice
blinded by love
and the fluttering of wings

her voice soft and sweet
reciting prose and verse
from old stories of lore

veiled in this mist of heartbreak
no longer yearning for the light
the bells toll, loud and deep into the night

years before, bone and blood
waiting for the false promises of spring
now the seasons just sad recollections

time to leave
fly back among the stars
and fade away