You(=I)❤️

Welcome to my blog..

Come closer… I don’t want air anymore. I want you to fill every breath I take...

let me live on nothing but you... 😭

just one…

something I could hold gently,

something that could carry my thirst,

my love,

my lonely little heart.

And I waited.

God knows how long I waited.

While others drank happiness with both hands,

I stood there empty,

looking at the sky like a child

waiting for mercy.

Then one day,

God finally placed a glass in my hands.

But it was broken.

Cracked from edge to edge,

sharp enough to wound,

fragile enough to shatter completely

if I held it too tightly.

And I remember smiling anyway.

Because after waiting for so long,

even pain looked like a blessing.

I told myself,

“Maybe I can fix it”

“Maybe love means bleeding quietly”

“Maybe broken things deserve love too”

So I held it carefully.

I tried to mend every crack with my bare hands.

But the more I tried,

the deeper it cut me.

My fingers bled first.

Then my heart did.

And the cruelest part is…

I never hated the glass.

I only hated the feeling

that if I let it go,

I might never receive another one again.

So now I sit here,

hands covered in invisible wounds,

asking myself questions

that keep me awake at night

Do I keep holding this broken glass forever

just because it was given to me?

Do I continue bleeding

just because I once begged God for it?

And if this is the only glass written in my fate…

am I supposed to die protecting the thing

that keeps hurting me?

Maybe the saddest thing about love

is not the breaking.

Maybe it’s loving something so much

that you start believing

your pain is the price

for being allowed to hold it.

And honestly…

I still don’t know what hurts more

the cuts in my hands,

or the fear

that putting the glass down

might mean losing love forever.

she wanted love—

someone who would cross oceans for her.

But I…

I did not cross the ocean—

I drowned in it.

My love for her dragged me under,

tide after tide;

breath after breath

lost somewhere between hope and heartbreak.

She said she was giving me wings,

but she was holding me underwater,

and I—

I willingly sank.

I knew what she was doing.

I knew every wave was meant to break me.

And still…

I stayed.

You never saw me bleed.

But there was blood—

and it was mine.

It burned like fire,

hurt like hell.

The ocean turned red with everything I gave,

and you—

my beloved—

you never saw a thing.

Because you were

Please choose me !!!!!

Come with me, my beloved !!!!

Why does it ache

to care for someone

more than you care for your own breath?

Why does love feel like a wound

you never stop pressing?

Tell me,

why do we bleed

for those who never asked for our blood?

For those who turn away

when we’re breaking open?

They don’t see love—

they see red.

It’s red.

It’s blood.

It’s mine.

And it spills quietly,

in the silence between words,

in the spaces where we once believed

we were enough.

It doesn’t make sense, does it?

How loving someone

can feel like dying slowly—

softly—

Her eyes—

they hold no mercy for me,

two storms disguised as silence,

and I drown willingly.

She kills—ruthless,

without a weapon, without a word,

just the slow rise of her lashes,

the quiet tremble of breath

before she speaks my name.

I am in love with her—

with the melancholy carved in her gaze,

with the way she brushes hair behind her ear

like a soft ritual of breaking me,

with the curve of her lips

that shapes my name into a prayer

and a punishment.

Every glance,

every fleeting smile,

every second of her presence—

they cut me open and leave me wanting

more of the wound.

She is merciless,

and still, I kneel—

a servant to her unspoken magic,

to the ruin she paints on my chest

with just a look.

She, my salvation.

And I—

I am the man who dies

a little more every time she turns away,

and lives again

Each trying to heal in silence.

But mine—

they’ve long healed on the surface,

while inside,

they bleed like the day she left.

Sometimes I scratch those wounds,

just to feel something—

some pain,

some trace of her touch,

the cruel mercy

of my merciless goddess.

Even the scars now

have curved themselves into her name.

Sometimes, no blood comes out.

Perhaps even my blood is tired—

tired of remembering,

tired of loving,

tired of living.

Or maybe

I am already dead—

a corpse

that forgot how to bleed,

but still remembers

how to ache.

The wound still hurts,

the love still burns,

her absence still whispers

like a ghost that never sleeps.

Perhaps this pain

was meant to stay—

a monument of her,

etched into what’s left of me.

And so I remain—

a corpse that still feels,

still longs,

if I could cry every tear

that was once meant for love in your name,

maybe I’d melt into the air,

free, like a flame set loose.

I wonder —

will you come to see my funeral?

Will you stand there quietly,

the way you used to when words failed you?

Will you cry?

I always wondered —

if I died,

would tears ever find their way to your eyes?

Would you feel anything?

Even for a moment?

Oh, my love —

my salvation, my sin.

The truth is,

I died the day you left me.

Everything after that

was just the body pretending to live.

Still, I wish…

if you do come,

don’t leave without crying.

Let at least one tear fall,

for the love that couldn’t live,

but found peace in dying.

— 6:00 A.M.

They’re calling me now.

The fire waits.

The breath that fills your lungs, the beat that feeds

Your heartbeat, your soul, your every part

The warmth that chases cold, the love that heals your heart

The water that quenches your thirst, the taste that lingers on

The food that nourishes, the love that's never gone

The road that leads you home, the path that's true

The shelter from life's storms, the roof that's over you

The slippers that warm your feet, the comfort that's real

The presence that soothes, the love that you can feel

I want to be the one you turn to, the one you adore

The everything that makes you whole, the love that you've been looking for

But what if I'm just a dream, a fleeting thought

A moment's peace, a lifetime's sorrow brought

What if I'm just a whisper, a gentle breeze

That touches your skin, but can't bring you to your knees?

Oh, to be the air you breathe, the love that you need

(I don’t even know why I’m writing this… maybe just to breathe)

Dear you,

You used to call me your sweetheart.

You used to hold my hand like I was the only one you saw.

But now...

I don’t even recognize you anymore.

What changed?

Was I never enough, or did I just stop being convenient?

There was so much love once — or at least,

I thought there was.

Now it feels like I was dreaming

While you were already halfway out the door.

I can’t explain this ache.

It’s like I’m still here,

But something inside me has gone missing.

I can’t eat. I can’t breathe.

My eyes are always heavy.

I thought your heart was my home —

But maybe I was just renting a lie.

And the tragedy?

It wasn’t loud.

It came quietly…

Through forgotten messages, missed calls,

And cold silences where warmth used to live.

You made me feel loved,

And then suddenly, like I didn’t belong.

Like I was a mistake you couldn’t wait to erase.

Maybe I was never meant for love.

Maybe some people are just meant to feel it,

Not keep it.

Tonight,

I wish I could place a stone on my chest

So the pain would stop swelling,

So the dreams of you would stop haunting.

I still want you.

That’s the worst part.

Even now,

My heart beats like it’s waiting for you to come back.

But I’m tired.

Tired of pretending I’m fine.

Tired of writing your name

In every quiet corner of my mind.

So if you must do something —

Curse me.

Curse me so deeply that I forget you completely.

I don’t want to remember your voice anymore.

Not your smile. Not your laugh. Not anything.

I’m done writing poems about you.

But this one?

This is the last one.

After this,

You’re just going to be someone I used to know.

— Me (~itachi6756)

They got me

just with her name.

Someone said it, and boom—

my heart jumped like it remembered

something I’ve been trying to forget.

Something I buried.

And it hurt. All over again.

I thought I was stronger,

untouched by her memory.

But I was wrong.

So wrong.

Because just hearing her name

A soft echo of it,

and my heart rose

from the grave I buried it in,

only to die again

in her absence.

Mother, how do I lie to you

How do I tell you I’ve moved on,

when I die a little

every time I see her

laugh at someone else’s joke ?

How do I pretend

I don’t love her anymore

when every part of me

still aches for her ?

I say I don’t like her eyes anymore—

but I’d give anything

just to look into them once more.

I say I don’t miss her voice—

but I still remember

exactly how she said my name.

I act like I’ve let her go,

but I still look for her..

in every crowd,

every quiet room,

every unwritten line,

Everywhere.

Mother, I’ve tried.

I’ve tried to silence

this stubborn heart.

But it keeps writing her name

Oh, mother,

why doesn’t he understand

that the one you ache for

doesn’t ache for you?

That the one you’d never leave

walked away

without a second glance ?

Still, he waits.

Still, he loves.

Still, he hopes—

And I’m scared, Mom.

Scared that he always will.

Love,

Your heartbroken son

(Loving a dream that wouldn't return)

Do I even exist?

Am I just a myth, a fading thought,

Or something you created in your mind?

I exist, but only within these walls.

My creator told me never to break them.

They are here to cage me,

To protect me from myself.

But am I that dangerous?

If I am, then why do I even exist?

Why not let me meet my fate?

"You are not real," my creator said.

Then what am I? A dream? A delusion?

I want to know what’s outside.

I want to feel the wind, see the sky.

I want to love, to live—

But the walls won’t let me.

Am I a monster? A devil?

Or just a mistake?

I grew up watching these walls,

Year after year, they never faded.

They only grew stronger.

Then one day, they were gone.

I was free.

But I didn’t know how to run.

I didn’t know how to love.

Dear reader, tell me—

Did you create me?

Or am I you?

Or are you me?

The walls were my fate,

Always there, just changing shape.

And this time, they were your face, my beloved—

The love that caged me till my end.

You, my beloved—

How much sorrow tormented me,

While I wandered the ruins of my longing.

I looked at you—

I would die for you,

I would kill for you,

Either way, what bliss.

Yet, consider how cursed I was,

That I even did what I ought not to have done

I walked a path with no end,

No matter what I did,

I gained nothing.

I never found you.

In the search of you, my love,

Sorrow wrapped its hands around my throat,

Drowning me in the depths of what could never be.

Where have I reached?

What have I become?

When I looked back, just for a moment,

I was ashamed to look.

Whatever didn’t kill me,

Turned me into this.

I hate myself with every—

fiber of my being.

Ohh my beloved,

May you be my last thought

Before emptiness swallows me whole.