Funny how love and your name both have four,  
I don’t like love, but with you, I want more.  
Hearing your name makes it feel real,  
Makes me crave something I don’t want to feel.  

I long to feel you, your warmth, your skin,  
The way you pull me in, where do I begin?  
I don’t want just texts, I want you whole,  
But I know you don’t care, you don’t feel my soul.  

Maybe if I was thinner, prettier, a little more bright,  
Would you see me then? Would you see me right?  
What’s wrong with me? What do they have that I lack?  
I give and give, but I’m always turning back.  

I love you, but you don’t even see,  
How can you be blind when it’s so clear to me?  
Am I a fool for loving you, for wanting this touch?  
Or are you playing games, knowing I care too much?  

I love you, I hate you, all at once in my chest,  
I hate myself more for putting this to the test.  
I try so hard, but you don’t even try,  
And I’m left here waiting, asking myself why.

He used to look at me,  
eyes meeting mine like secret words,  
quietly folding over our small world.  
A laugh, a smile,  
a glance that lingered just a little longer,  
like we were caught in a whispered story.

But now there’s nothing.  
Days pass like a dimming pulse.  
No messages, no mentions,  
just the cold echo of everything left unsaid.  
The warmth once here has slipped away,  
like it never even happened,  
a memory erased before it had the chance to stay.

I wonder if I imagined it,  
if the closeness was just a flicker in the dark.  
He’s here and gone, like a fading spark.  
And though I wish it would light again,  
I wait in silence, shadows,  
just the ache of where he’d been.

Love is a gamble, you win or you lose,
No in-between, just painful choices to choose.
And if there were, she wasn’t really playing,
Just drifting along, while his heart kept swaying.

She thinks love’s beautiful, yet it cuts like a knife,
She’s sick of never being loved, or not loving enough,
Of feeling like she’s broken, too hard, too tough.

She wonders if it’s worth staying another day.
She’s tired of hurting, tired of the fight,
Her mind is a war that rages at night.

She dreams of letting it go, of silence,
Of peace, from the chaos she knows.
She’s sick of the ache that swallows her whole,
Of feeling like love is something she’ll never control.

There’s a hunger in me that whispers your name,  
It’s hard to resist you, harder still to stay,  
An ache that grows each time you look away.  
I reach for you, but you drift like smoke,  
A dream I hold to but never evoke.  

Every day, I tell myself to let go,  
Yet in the silence, your presence grows.
Your silence echoes, cold and clear,  
The world feels like it’s tied to you  
Every sound, every scent, every view.  

I want to turn away, find peace, be free,  
But you’ve become a part of me.  
My heart, unruly, beats in tune  
With a love that’s bound to fall too soon.  

Invisible in your line of sight,  
Yet drawn to you with all my might.  
To love you feels like chasing air  
Impossible, yet I’m always there.  
Yet still, I burn with your unspoken name.

« A maze, you get lost.  
A labyrinth, you find yourself. »
But this love I feel  
only pulls me further away.  

The more I try to explore it,  
the more it unravels me.  
Every path I take  
leads deeper into the unknown,  
a place where even my shadow  
doesn’t feel like home.  

I search for meaning,  
for the way back to clarity,  
but all I find is more of you,  
and less of me.  

This love,  
a labyrinth with no center,  
no end,  
just endless turns  
where I lose myself again and again.

Today, I stop loving you.  
Today, I move on
that's what I told myself.  

But the truth sticks,  
like gum on my shoe,  
like your name in my throat.  

I realize now,  
you might not love me,  
and if you do,  
the way you show it is twisted,  
messed up.  

You don’t love me.  
I know that now.  
Not after the poem you showed me,  
the one that looked like love,  
but wasn’t.  

I felt hurt  
because I loved you.  
The poem I shared?  
That was about you.  
But I never said it.  

Now my friends tease me.  
Every time he sees me,  
he screams your name,  
and my heart tightens.  
It reminds me
I still love you.

You looked through me,  
and in that moment, nothing else mattered.  
You stood there, looking,  
as if there was something only you could see,  
something hidden even from me.

The way you smiled, the way I laughed  
it felt like a story we shared,  
like a hand reaching out in the dark.  
I thought maybe, just maybe,  
there was something there.

But now, only silence answers,  
days pass, and there’s nothing from you.  
Did I really feel something that night,  
or was it just the need to believe,  
to hold onto the warmth of your arms,  
to imagine your eyes told a story  
that was only ever mine?

This body, once mine, now feels estranged,  
Scarred and hollow, broken and changed.  
I look at it from somewhere far,  
As if I’m watching a distant star.  

Once, I loved this skin, this frame,  
It held me close, it knew my name.  
But now it feels like a cage, not a home  
A shell I wander, lost and alone.  

I live outside it, ghost-like and cold,  
No longer belonging, no longer whole.  
This body I hate, this body I mourn,  
Once familiar, now weathered and worn.  

I ache for the self I used to know,  
Before these scars, before this shadow.  
I drift, disconnected, silent and numb,  
In a body that no longer feels like my own.

Life is ******, it’s truly a mess,  
I mean you’d have to be twisted to love right?
You’re caught in a game that never ends.  
its a cycle almost clinical

Love is a gamble, its either you win or you lose,  
There’s no in-between, just choices to choose.  
And if there were, you weren’t really playing,  
Just drifting along, while the real hearts are swaying.  

As a teen, you’re vulnerable, naive,  
Chasing a dream that’s hard to believe.  
Love can be beautiful, yet it cuts like a knife,  
It’s a dangerous dance, full of chaos

Dive in too deep, and you’ll feel the sting,  
Love is nothing but lies, wrapped in a ring.  
It pulls you in close, then pushes away,  
A truth in the games that we play.

These poems I write
they're pieces of me,  
maybe the only real me.  

You read them  
without my knowing,  
stripped my intimacy bare.  

I showed you what I chose,  
but you wanted more,  
took more.  

Now I stand here,  
naked,  
exposed.

I wish I didn’t care.  
I wish I didn’t care so much.  
I wish I didn’t care at all.  

I wish  
I wish for too many things.  
Is it because I wish too much?  
Or because I care too much,  
Feel too much,  
Fall too much?  

Am I wrong for that?  
Was my mold broken  
When they were making me?  
Or am I just broken?  

Maybe I wasn’t meant to fit,  
Wasn’t meant to bend or blend.  
Maybe I was made to feel it all—  
Every edge, every crack,  
Every shattering,  
Every stitch pulling me back.  

If my mold was broken,  
Then I’m not a mistake.  
I’m just something  
The world wasn’t ready to make.

He used to look at me,  
eyes meeting mine like secret words,  
quietly folding over our small world.  
A laugh, a smile,  
a glance that lingered just a little longer,  
like we were caught in a whispered story.

But now there’s nothing.  
Days pass like a dimming pulse.  
No messages, no mentions,  
just the cold echo of everything left unsaid.  
The warmth once here has slipped away,  
like it never even happened,  
a memory erased before it had the chance to stay.

I wonder if I imagined it,  
if the closeness was just a flicker in the dark.  
He’s here and gone, like a fading spark.  
And though I wish it would light again,  
I wait in silence, shadows,  
just the ache of where he’d been.

if i let your lips wreck mine,  
would it have changed a thing in time?  
if nobody came to us,  
would you have acted like your eyes didn’t trust?  
or the way your hands traced my hips,  
like you were trying to remember what my skin felt like,  
and for a second, you’d remember this feeling for a while?  
i know you liked that red dress,  
stained with blood, a mess we left unsaid.  
if i followed you that night,  
would you have kissed me or let me tear you apart?  
every word you spoke felt like fire,  
and every stare you threw at me felt like desire.  
but you never looked back, not even for a while.

i’ve never loved, not like they say,
not in that soul-devouring way.
i’ve never been held like i'm the light,
never been kissed like it felt right.’

not the love a parent gives with grace,
i’ve had that—warmth, a safer place.
but not the fire, the fevered kind,
the touch that melts both flesh and mind.

they say love burns, leaves marks so deep,
keeps you awake when you should sleep.
but all i’ve felt is passing skin,
lust that ends where it begins.

i thought i loved, i really tried,
but now i know—i might have lied.
i’ve chased a ghost i never knew,
and every time, it slipped right through.

maybe love’s not mine to find,
maybe it’s written for another kind.
maybe my fate is words on page,
a heart that bleeds but hides its cage.

so i write it down, instead of speak,
my hands are strong, but my voice is weak.
i’m scared to love, to lose control,
to let someone in and not stay whole.

perhaps i’m meant to ache in rhyme,
to love through poems, line by line.
maybe my heart was built to break,
to write the love i’ll never make.

i live in this body i barely know,
twisted and shaped just to make you glow.
every move rehearsed, every smile forced,
drowning in silence you never endorsed.

i cut to feel what you never gave,
blood on my skin, my soul a grave.
each slice goes deeper, still not enough,
bleeding myself raw to prove my love.

my skin’s on fire, burns through the night,
all this pain hidden out of sight.
breaking to pieces, shattered and torn,
trying to wake the heart that’s worn.

your hands stayed cold, never reached in,
watched me crumble, let me spin.
i begged, i bent, gave all i had,
left scarred and bruised, broken and sad.

lost in this skin that isn’t mine,
bleeding in silence, dying inside.
i’m cracked and torn, can’t hold it in,
broken and waiting, can you let me in?

i feel so small, a fading spark.
i miss your voice that lit the dark.
your eyes, they flickered, wouldn’t stay,
always running, pulled away.

i know that urge, that quiet flight,
to dodge the mirror, dodge the light.
i’ve run from names i used to wear,
from thoughts that choke the silent air.

this body feels like borrowed skin,
a shell i never settled in.
but then, your laugh, a fleeting flame,
when i said something dumb, by name.

you smiled, and for a breath or two,
i almost felt like someone new.
your gaze would trace me, soft and slow,
like blinking once would let me go.

you never touched, you held your breath,
like love itself might summon death.
or worse, that reaching out for me
would turn a ghost to memory.

we lived in almosts, nearly whole,
a half-made bed, a tangled soul.
almost loving, never quite,
daydreams dying every night.

and maybe you just stayed so still,
afraid to fall, afraid to feel.
but i have shattered, piece by piece
you missed the cracks, you missed the crease.

you weren’t looking. not enough.
you called it love, but called my bluff.
now i’m the echo, fading, done.
still standing here.
still on the run.

i feel so small.
i miss your voice.
your eyes.
how they never stayed
always running.

i know the feeling.
i’ve run too
from the sound of my name,
from my thoughts
when the room gets quiet.
from the way my body
feels like a costume i never chose.

but then your laugh.
when i say something stupid
just to hear it.
like maybe if you smile,
i'll stay whole
for another hour.

your eyes traced me.
slow.
like i’d disappear
if you blinked.
like touching me
would crack the illusion.
or worse
make it true.

we live in almosts.
almost touching.
almost loving.
almost real.

and maybe
you’re waiting for me to fall apart
so you won’t have to.

but i already did.
you just didn’t see it.
you weren’t looking.