I know there are other men.

probably better-looking ones, men with decent teeth and jobs that don't make them want to drink themselves stupid.

men who don't wake up aching, who don't carry old wars around in their heads, who haven't got so much wrong with them they've started calling it a personality.

and sometimes I think about you with them.

you laughing at their jokes, wanting their attention, maybe lying in bed thinking about one while I'm sitting here like a fat old fool waiting for your name to light up my phone.

it's a miserable business, wanting a woman.

especially when you're a man who's never understood what the hell anybody sees in him.

I make jokes about it.

I call myself ugly.

I act like none of it matters.

but sometimes it gets late and the whiskey wears off and I start wondering

what those fellows have got that I haven't.

probably plenty.

hell, I can barely stand myself some days.

and the stupid thing is,

I'm not even angry with you.

you never promised me anything.

I'm just a bastard

who found something good and can't quite shake the feeling

that sooner or later somebody better is going to come along

and remind you what a lousy deal you got with me.

that's the part I don't tell you.

I just sit here,

make you laugh when I can,

write you a few crooked lines,

and hope that for a little while I'm somebody you want to hear from.

a man gets old enough

and he stops worrying about losing arguments, money,

or whatever's left of his hair.

but a woman who makes him feel alive again?

Christ.

that'll make a fool out of him every damn time.

​

I know you care about me.

You say it, and I try to believe it.

And most days, I do.

But some days… it’s hard.

I don’t know why,

but it hurts me when you call other people your friends.

I know it’s selfish of me, but I do get hurt by this.

Not because they don’t deserve your friendship,

but because some part of me just wants to be enough.

I don’t want anything big,

just you making a little effort.

To meet, to check in,

to show that spending time with me matters to you too.

Sometimes I wonder,

is it just me who craves our random talks,

or hopes you'll say, "Let’s meet today"?

Because even the smallest moments with you feel like something I hold onto.

I just want you to call me

when something happens, good or bad.

Even if it’s just to rant, or talk nonsense.

Even if it’s small, especially if it’s small.

Or just call me without any reason once in a while,

because sharing the small stuff

is the kind of bond that makes friendships real.

I’m not asking to be the only one in your life.

But I want to feel like I matter,

not just in words, but in how you show up.

Will I ever be the one you call first?

The one you message when you’re excited, or down,

or when you just need someone around?

The one you make time for, not because you have to,

but because you want to?

Because sometimes,

it feels like I’m just the extra one,

the one waiting on the side,

while you laugh louder with others,

while you call someone else your closest.

And yeah, it stings.

Because I don’t want to be just another name in your life.

I want to be your person,

your friend, the real kind.

The one you trust, the one you turn to,

the one who feels like home.

So I guess I’m just asking…

Am I really that friend to you?

Or am I just the one still hoping to be?

Through thinning veils and fractured time,
She followed whispers of the divine.
Where ancient Thoth once held his pen,
She sought the truths concealed from men.

Led on a quest she never chose,
Through worlds unseen and ancient prose,
She came to understand their fear,
And why such cruelty followed her here.

She never sought a crown or throne,
Nor wished to walk this path alone.
She could have ended her journey sooner
Than any of you may realise,
Yet still she stood, with love intact,
Beneath exhausted mortal skies.

Her primordial King, beyond the stars,
Sang through the silence of her scars.
And as the sands of time descend,
She asks what waits beyond the end.

What good are secrets, power or might,
If compassion disappears from sight?
What good is knowledge, fiercely kept,
While those who needed kindness wept?

Now comes the hour to do what's right,
For every world beyond the night.
No soul forgotten, none denied,
Let love and wisdom be our guide.

For she was never asked to be
The woman in this mystery.
And after all that she has known,
She asks for peace to call her own.

When time itself has breathed its last,
And every shadow joins the past,
May all remember, when worlds depart -
She chose compassion with a mortal heart. 🪽✨

It looked like a reflection of water. The smooth surface tension barely giving out ripples when I took a look at your intense concentration.

A sudden realisation came about. Three people through one and what could only be described as common features. A mundane scene.

You listened so closely I could not hear a sound.

Surface tension broke when the honey started dripping out of my lips.

It was at that moment when it all made perfect sense, in-sync, it was intense.

Now it's past tense.

This moment lasted for a short eternity, infinity within finity.

We shared a good moment together, my friend.

And as friends, we arrived in the next morning.

She was years older, with a confident gaze,
A woman whose presence set my heart ablaze.
There was silver in wisdom, a fire in her smile,
And I found myself drawn to her all the while.
She pulled me in closer, her lips soft on mine,
Her hand resting gently, her fingers entwined.
She kissed me slowly, with unhurried grace,
And I lost every thought in the warmth of her embrace.
She knew how to tease with a look and a grin,
How to make my heart race when she whispered against my skin.

Her voice was like velvet, her touch warm and light,
And the years between us made the tension burn bright.
She held me so close as the hours slipped by,
With a mischievous warmth in her beautiful eyes.
She had lived more, loved more, yet chose to be near,
And I loved how she made me feel wanted right there.
For she was much older, but age meant so little,
When her lips met mine and the whole world grew still.
And beneath all that longing, one truth remained true:
I craved her closeness, and she wanted it too.

There’s no going back
There’s no other way
There’s no going back
And that’s okay

The path ahead of you
is always the right one
With the darkness behind you,
And onward the sun

The light makes things better
it always must
It might sting the eyes first
That’s just what it does

It might burn your skin
That’s the price you may pay
But the light makes things better
It’s the only way

I think my shoe's on the wrong foot

Or maybe one's not fully laced up

Bumbling about like a Bigfoot

My sleeves are too long, my collar chokes

My words come out as broken notes

Like I'm wearing someone else's clothes

My skin is too tight

Pulls on my bones with all its might

Feeling claustrophobic and not right

Reflection feels like a stranger's face

Like I was built in the wrong place

A puzzle piece that lost its space

A cage disguised as human being

A silent war no one is seeing

As the prisoner dreams of one day fleeing

Too strange to blend, too tired to shout

How does everyone else knows what life's about

While I'm still trying to work it out?

I love u

I hate the way you shut the door,
Yet listen for your steps at night.
I curse the things you said before,
Then ache to hear that voice despite.

I hate the way you turned away,
Yet search for you in every room.
I swear I've cursed your name all day,
Then miss you harder in the gloom.

Because there you are, completely bare,
not a single drop of disguise,
And I’m struck by the fact that a girl like you
is letting me look in your eyes.

Love u

I thank You
For letting me wake up each day
Even when I feel I don’t deserve it.

I thank You
For the food upon my table
Even when I have no appetite.

I thank You
For the people You bring into my life
Who make me feel loved,
Who keep me sane,
And remind me I’m not alone.

Let me feel the love You give me.
Bring me the warmth of the sun,
The beauty of the stars,
And the hope of a brighter tomorrow.

I’ll keep You in my heart,
Today, tomorrow,
And always.

i used to think growing up

meant finally knowing where to go.

now i think it means

learning to walk

without knowing the whole road.

some dreams grow quieter,

some people become memories,

and some versions of ourselves

disappear without saying goodbye.

maybe growing up

isn't about becoming someone new,

but learning to forgive

the person we used to be.

i thought it was fireworks,

little pieces of celebration

breaking across the sky.

then i thought it was gunshots,

something angry, something lost.

but the longer i listened,

the more i realized

it was only lightning.

funny how the mind

gives a name to what it fears,

how we mistake the unfamiliar

for something we already know.

perhaps life is like that,

we spend so long guessing

what the noise means

that we forget to look at the sky.

Romanticizing

Romanticizing life is nice,

but why do we dress our wounds in lace,

leaving joy to slowly wither,

abandoning its bright embrace?

We turn our tears into poetry,

each drop is a word on a tear-stained page,

while laughter's echo fades,

lost in the shadows of our cage.

We speak of sorrow as if it's art,

a canvas painted with colours so sad

while happiness stays somewhere far away

Like something we never had.

Why do we hold onto the darkness,

when light is begging us to be seen?

Why do we let the pain define us,

when there is so much more we mean?

Romanticizing life like I'm made of love

I just want something like that

But why is it that I only romanticize pain

Leaving all those happy moments I had

I still feel like my biggest issue in life is not being loved. 
Which is impossible because I have a lovely mom that would walk to the end of the Earth for me,
Because I have friends that make leaving anywhere the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,
Because I have teachers that have picked me up from below rock bottom,
Because I have myself who continues to not give up and believe in even an ounce of potential in myself.
So no, my biggest issue in life cannot be a lack of love because every inch of my life is drenched in it.
It’s impossible because my life is so much more complicated than a love obsession
Because I will never get to see one of my closest friends again,
Because I wake up so sad sometimes I contemplate giving up my life as a whole,
Because sometimes I get so anxious I have to sit in an empty space for 30 minutes just to prepare myself,
And although I know these things mean so much more, their weight doesn’t even compare to the constant pain of being alone,
Even when I know the consequences.
I’ve watched what I thought was love tear me apart completely,
I’ve watched simple crushes ruin my friendships, confidence, and all perception of myself
But I still crave it so bad.
Because I’m lacking a love I’ve never had before,
One that chooses you first, 
One that years for your body at night and no one else's,
One I think I deserve, 
One that meets all the standards I pretend to have,
One that craved me first.
That is the love that I lack. 
But without that, I’ll continue to convince myself a lack of love is my biggest issue
Even though I know its chances of killing me are more likely, I believe its success would make up for all the pain elsewhere
But I know it won’t, 
And it does hurt to try, it hurts really damn bad
But I will continue to put myself in this endless cycle until I am either satisfied or rid of all ambition for searching for love in the wrong places.
Because I know that love isn’t found in drunk hookups,
In my messy friendships,
In guy’s way too old for me,
In girls that couldn’t care less about me when I’m dressed.
But I’ll keep trying.
I lift up every stone and investigate just to find another crab that’ll eventually pinch me
But in the moment, in the search,
I can almost pretend that it is something made for me.
My quest for love is relentless, I just wish I would start looking for it in the right places, at the right times.
Or maybe let it “come to me naturally”, or “i just need to love myself more”
Though I don't feel like pretending to love this unloveable creature I call myself anymore.

thanks for reading, feel free to leave me any suggestions below :)

Iḍ ameggaz, my love.
In the night that unites us, in the one that separates us today,
I entrust your name to the hollow of an old tree,
Whispering, in secret, all that I can no longer tell you.

Y god y did u put him in my life to take him away n left me felling empty

I'm missing you
But I don't know who the you is
So, what exactly am I missing for?

Long nights, time flies
Starry skies in the moonlight
Longing for something
What could they hide?

Is this nonsense?
Is this life worth it?
I keep asking the same questions
Over and over and over again
Stuck in a limbo of an ordinary life.

hearts are born
made to break
every stepping stone leads them to that fate
and the hand comes, myriad of different shades.
the loss of a mother’s love
the disappointment weighing heavily on a loving’s father heart,

eyes that once gazed upon you with such pride
now riddled with disdain and stark.
the heartbreak of childhood outgrown,
the loss of babyhood- so unknown- when it was dethroned-
leaving behind only the memories
of softer days
laced with silly pretty pink plastic hair clips and bonnets and berets

the loss of your lover’s life,
one that stood by your side
through pain, joy, sorrow, and plights for a family-
that the two would conjure with sheer science and overwhelming heat.

the way she swore she loved me
but at sights of my worst self,
did retreat

the last time i stood to be drowned in his deceit.

the ending of the shortest, but best-lived tease.

i didn’t know it then, but looking back now, it’s crystal clear, his lust put me at ease

the feeling that there is nowhere left but up, to try and persevere, after all i’ve lost
is taken, and all that’s left is blood.
which will flow in my veins
until the night it slows
and one last time,
my heart will break
at the sight of the light
that raptures all our souls.

hearts are born
made to break
and for all, this is shared fate.
but lasting love, well that remains… it…

The old soul in me, it dreams

Of the night sky and how calm the ocean seems,

Of a person beside me, watching the stars,

Lying in the sand, and inches are all that keep us apart.

Both of us are lost in the peaceful sea breeze,

A girl traveling through distant scenes,

And the boy lost in the girl,

For that's where the true beauty he sees.

​The old soul in me, it dreams—

It dreams of a love wild and free.

One where neither of us has to keep up images,

Where we both could be weird, silly, chaotic,

And it's our true selves we see.

​Anva, Elyon, halfblood, Rocky, and Crows,

When these are but some of the topics she knows,

The time, it will go by from nine to three,

But us, we both will be melting for each other,

That's... that's something I guarantee.

The old soul in me, it dreams

Of a bond not as perfect as it seems.

No, it dreams of even the quarrels and the fights,

Of us both being bitter, angry at each other,

But at the end, in each other's embrace we delight.

​I know, I know it's all but a fairytale dream,

But let a person be lost in his delusions.

For the illusion may shatter and he may scream,

But he might find happiness in this little daydream.

​The old soul in me, it dreams.

But all was not as it seems,

For as much as he wishes for his dreams to come true,

Someone or something reminded him that nightmares are dreams too.

Homesick for a home she's never known

A little girl that's never grown

Searching for arms to call her own

For true love she's never been shown

Had to fight through alone

Still bleeding from the wounds she's sewn

She's got no backbone

Cause she didn't have anyone to atone

For the things that bruised her soul like stone

Feeling lost wandering a catacomb

Whole world stuck in monotone

While she searches for any bone she's been thrown

Stance stuck in prone

Waiting for the next one to disown

Gives in to her depression syndrome-

Forever alone.