and maybe some of us are just addicted to pain,
not for the sorrow, not for the rain,
but for the echo it leaves in our chest—
a whisper that says, you once did your best.

we trace every scar like a well-known road,
each bruise a story that’s silently told.
in silence, we learned how to breathe through the ache,
to smile with a heart that’s destined to break.
and because joy felt fleeting, like shadows at dawn,
and grief was the one thing that always stayed on.

so we stay with the hurt, not chasing the sun,
for in this strange ache, we are never undone.
and maybe, just maybe, we bleed to feel sane—

for some of us are simply addicted to pain.

-

it’s the gut-wrenching reality
that even in your moments of joy,
there is a lurking dread,
a voice that reminds you
that in a blink,
your life could be shattered,
that your body could be taken,
your soul torn apart,
and the world would still say

'she was asking for it.'

-

and when
i think
about those memories,
they warm my heart
in the coldest possible way.

-

J.U.N.E & I.
in a weary stride

the fields stretched wide
tired hands, days of toil.

both dark and bright
greet each new dawn.

a dance of life in sight and sound
days of wonder, fleeting and true.

days of June
moves gracefully on.

-

a love.
that once wrapped in solace.
now a silent ache.
her absence,
a void that time never clears.
her caress,
once a haven so sweet
now a bitter sea.

still sometimes
lost in the waves of what once was.
this agony. so pure.
a poignant reminder of love's enduring pains.
oh! for. in her warmth, i found my tears.

-

a love that found no home.
in november's arms, i'm left in the rain.

-

and hope.
like a fleeting whisper in the wind,
sometimes feels present but elusive,
slipping through my grasp
when i try to hold onto it.

hope too feels so much like your love. feels there.
but never there.

-

don't ask questions about longing.
look in my face.
whatever i was looking for
was always you.

-

words spoken in vain.
your love, once fierce, feels gone.
silent tears trace the paths of memories.
like a haunting, bitter sweet song.
in the ruins of what was, a heartache that won't decay.
but in the end, i must find my own way.
for if saying goodbye comes so easy to you,
then it's only right for me to walk away.

-

in the tides of my heart,
i'm lost in this sea,
of hating you and
loving the memories of you.

-