33f trigger warning

11 years gone to fast.

11 years since I heard your voice, yet I remember it like it was just yesterday that I called you last.

I know your watching over me, I know your with bub, but I miss you all the same, and I know the universe had greater plans for you.

They lied.

Time didn't heal a damn thing.

It only taught me

how to carry the weight

without collapsing every single day.

No amount of time heals these wounds.

No amount of love can bring you back.

So for now,

I'll wait

and sit in silence...

Because silence

is all you left behind.

Do you know what it's like

to reach for someone

who no longer exists?

To hear a joke

and instinctively think,

"I have to tell my sister,"

only to remember

that death doesn't care

how badly I need you.

You were never supposed to become

a memory.

You were supposed to grow older.

To laugh louder.

To argue with me.

To call me when life fell apart.

You were supposed to be here.

Instead,

I visit photographs

because they're the only place

where your smile still breathes.

I hate that the world

expects me to keep living.

To go to work.

To smile.

To answer, "I'm okay,"

when every piece of me

is screaming that I'm not.

Grief isn't missing you.

Grief is waking up every morning

and having to lose you

all over again.

It's carrying conversations

I'll never get to have.

It's hearing your name

and feeling my heart shatter

like it's the first day

instead of the thousandth.

I would trade years from my own life

just to hear your voice

one more time.

One more laugh.

One more hug.

One more "I love you."

People tell me

you'd want me to be happy.

Maybe they're right.

But what they don't understand

is that happiness feels like betrayal

when you're no longer here to share it.

So I'll carry this grief.

I'll let it carve itself

into my bones,

because pain

is the only proof

that you were real,

that you mattered,

that you were loved

with a love

death could never bury.

And if heaven is real...

Please...

Wait for me.

Because there has never been a goodbye

Poison and Velvet

A toxic bloom in velvet shade,

A sharp allure that will not fade.

Beneath the heavy, misted night,

My emerald gaze holds wicked light.

Like forest moss on hidden graves,

Or secrets swallowed by the waves.

You pull me deep into the dark,

And leave a cold, eternal mark.

I gladly drown inside the green,

The sweetest trap I've ever seen.

A dangerous, bewitching art,

"The Language of Your Eyes"

There is a storm behind those silver skies,

hidden beneath the stillness of your gaze.

Not loud. Not reckless.

Just the kind of ache that has learned

how to whisper instead of scream.

Your eyes do not beg to be understood.

They simply exist—

holding oceans that never asked permission

to be so deep.

They are winter mornings,

cold enough to make the world fall silent,

yet beautiful enough

to make someone willingly stay.

If souls truly have windows,

yours are left slightly open—

just enough to let the moonlight in,

just enough to let someone wonder

what heartbreak, what hope,

and what untamed magic

still lives behind them.

And perhaps that's their greatest power.

They never ask for attention.

They simply look...

The air hurts my lungs, but the thought of your hands on me burns even hotter. I’m stepping off the path and into the thick of it. "Let’s see how well you track your prey." I say to myself.

Every shadow looks like you, stretching out to grab me. My heart is pounding out of my chest.

I am running blind through the dark, terrified and desperate for you to finally catch me.

When you finally tackle me into the dirt, I expect zero gentleness. I am ready to be pinned down, helpless, and entirely at your mercy under the canopy. The moment your fingers lock around my wrists, the chase ends and my real punishment begins. Catch me, trap me, and make me regret trying to outrun you.

The moon is at its peak, and there is nowhere left for me to run. Your hands on my skin send shivers through my body, the need grows stronger. The trap is sprung, and the dark has finally swallowed me whole. No more running, no more waiting—just your absolute control in the shadows."

I am pinned, breathless, and completely at the mercy of your grip. The anticipation was agonizing, but the reality of your weight on me is thrilling. Go ahead and rough me up; the forest won't hear a single thing tonight. You hunted me down perfectly, now show me exactly what happens to prey."

I despratly struggle to get out of your grasp, I dont want the adrenaline to end. The anticipation. The feeling of so despratly being wanted. The warmth to my cold skin when you do get ahold of me. I know you like when I struggle against you too, its not just for me.

Im so in the moment, I dont realize you pulled out a knife. Not untill you hold it to my thigh and threaten to use it if I keep fighting. What you dont know, or maybe you do, but I like the feeling. The sharp blade against my skin, the threat of leaving my warm drops of blood all over the leaves that tell the universe Im yours.