Amore Mio

love you, for i have only just become 

aware of it myself. how could i have

known that the way your fingers manage to

send a chill across my skin but still set

my blood ablaze - the way my heart beats like 

butterfly wings or plucked violin strings -

the way my breathing catches in my lungs - 

how could i have known that what i feel for 

you is love?

- e. 

I think– despite it always being my desire to imagine someone saving him.

To be the one to bring him back.

I think he needed help too long ago. He spent too much time hiding— under beds, in closets, in every dark space he could find— trying to un-live what he could never articulate. Trying to erase all sensation.

I don’t think there was ever a time he was alive and conscious at the same time. I think it ended too early.

And maybe that’s why I’m failing. Maybe I did bring him back— only to discover he’s just as broken. Just as shallow. Just as fake. All surface. Everything.

That his brain is just as cloudy, incapable of processing, designed to cling desperately to specific little things.

There is just nothing— an endless sea of nothing.

Maybe because we tried to block it all out. But it never works. I just end up trapped in here with it again.

And maybe— maybe that’s all this ever was. The damage that came first— maybe those moments, they define everything.

Everything built on top was just scaffolding. A life built in defense. A reaction mistaken for a person.

And when I try to strip it all away, to return to whatever I “really” am, I find nothing.

Nothing— except everything I wished I had never been able to remember.

The sensations that have no name.

The clock strikes one: the stars are heavy

floating across pale lands

Stillness washes over us, and

The rain keeps time -

Echoing the leaves’ quiet whisper

The tent flaps as a lonely bird

an actor in the scenic hills

Murmurs roll past us, driftwood anchors

In an unrelenting ocean

Millimetres of fabric stretch between

A castle built on shifting sands.

She smiled like spring, then turned to frost,

And left me counting all I lost.

I spoke in storms, I bled in rhyme,

She heard me once—then not in time.

She held me close when days were few,

But vanished when the night turned blue.

She kissed like fire, then pulled away,

Like dawn that doesn’t wish to stay.

I begged the stars to let her see,

But prayers mean nothing when you flee.

She loved me soft, with veiled intent,

A loan of light she never meant.

I stayed a fool, a silent knight,

Still guarding dreams that died in fight.

Now in the dark, I wear her name,

A ghost within a crooked frame.

I love in shadows, walk alone,

A king dethroned, without a throne.

And though she’s gone, I hear her laugh—

A blade that splits my soul in half.

Yet still I’d crawl through ash and flame,

Nothing I love more to do

than write some poems —

not one... nay, two.

To share my work,

flown from the heart —

amazing how life's changed

since art.

I hope for all

to find this love —

as if it come

Being honest is good. Being too honest? Sometimes dangerous.

Life isn’t just about truth — it’s about timing, tact, and a little bit of twist. Play smart. Move silent. Win loud. 🎯