In twilight's hush she bends, a fragile form, beneath the boughs where dying roses swarm; her gown, once pale as moonlight's fleeting grace, now weeps with crimson ink across her face. Petals fall like blood from open wounds, thorns tattoo her arms in whispered runes—

There is a quiet, exhausting violence in waking up every day and forcing your ghost back into its skin, just to politely say "good morning" to a world that has no idea what you survived in the dark

Let the world have your smile. Let them have your kindness. But your fears,your scars, your shadows... Those belong to me. I don't need much... Only your soul, so I can guard it like something sacred.

There is something sacred in loving with the heart flung wide, in letting affection run generous and true, untamed, unmeasured, untied. No careful count, no stingy reserve, no teaspoon drops when the soul craves a sea; just open floodgates, reckless and pure,

Linger longer with me in this crazed venture called life take the twisted turns with me let’s get lost in the meadow where nature’s dance is wild free unencumbered and forget what drives our minds insane instead remember life’s lulling hum when we live for each other

Sorry, my inner world is calling; I have to pick up. Please hold.🩸🥀

Swallow my pulse whole, let my ghost be the only sin you keep inside your soul

She is philosophy wrapped in silk.. a woman whose eyes ask questions your body answers before your mind can speak…..

I am not broken I am echo a room still holding the shape of something that once mattered ☪︎ ִ ֶ֢࣪⋆

Here is My wildflower letter To you As the tears Made bloom Gardens of hope And clouded sorrows Have eased Into skies of brilliant blue While the death of you Seemingly came too soon In life I mourned you Because I always knew And the sun still found me Standing in truth

I'm drifting over open wounds That held the depths of unspoken words Hindsight, speaks from a distance So let me be blunt - I'm no longer obsessed With these hollowed walls Holding the weight... Of our broken kiss #vss365 #Obsessed #poetry 📷 Pinterest Image

People love to judge the book by its cover, then complain about "mixed signals" when the chapters start burning their hands. You didn't want to understand the dark; you just wanted a tragedy you could safely put back on the shelf when it got too real

When a writer is speechless, doesn't want to write anymore, know that he carries great sadness. Something in his heart broke into a thousand pieces. #green_eyes_lady

Big egos small hearts. Heartless personalities insecure souls and yet, they love. Constantly Time passes They grow old But their pain never does. Anger follows them born from guilt they refuse to face. 1/2

If someone truly wants to understand you, they won’t require endless proof. 🩸🥀

Just a touch in those ordinary days when breathing feels heavy and your chest forgets how to rise. Think of his words then ask yourself why you keep crying over and over because of him. Rebuild yourself slowly piece by piece. 1/2

I love you. I miss you. And when everything else is stripped away, that’s what this is really about. Not the easy moments, not the days when everything falls neatly into place. It’s about this. Being there for each other when the miles feel long, when the hours stretch out,

Broken bones swallowed whole The meat was easier to digest I wonder if they miss you yet Now I can finally rest Lest they will do find out But well in my defense When hunger pangs I use my fangs And you You were a shitty friend I live without regret And surely will not fret I

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑶𝒖𝒕𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 Longing can feel like a weight upon the chest. Not the soft, dreamy thing poets so often promise when they speak of love—but something heavier. Something that settles into the bones when the night grows still,