Kiko

There’s something undeniably poetic about destruction. The way it mercilessly tears down what was once beautiful, reducing it to rubble and chaos. It strips away the veneer of perfection, leaving behind something raw, something honest. In the ashes of what once was, lies a brutal truth—destruction is not the end, but a transformation. It reveals the core, the bare bones of existence, where nothing can hide. It’s in this raw aftermath that true beauty is found, unpolished and unapologetic.

Not everyone deserves the title of parent. Bringing a pure soul into this world is a privilege, not a right. Those whose own souls are tainted with bitterness, selfishness, and unresolved darkness have no place shaping the life of an innocent. The burden of their sins should never be passed down to a child, whose only fault would be being born to someone unworthy. The purity of a new life deserves to be nurtured, not corrupted by the shadows of a parent’s their past.

Sometimes love wasn't enough to heal the scars of the past. It was just another lie, another empty promise. Every "I love you" felt like a knife, twisting deeper into old wounds. Love became a weapon, used to control and manipulate, leaving behind a trail of shattered trust and broken hearts. In the end, love wasn't the cure—it was the poison.

"In your way," he corrected bitterly, his gaze becoming distant and cold. "Not mine."

Right now, I don't want anything or anyone at all. I just want to be completely alone with myself, to understand every twisted, dark corner of my being. I need to dive into my own chaos, free from any outside influence or distraction.

I'm just so exhausted right now. I don’t know what to do with myself. I've always been a mess, but what I’m feeling now is beyond anything I’ve ever known. It’s not just a mess—it’s emptiness. A cold, suffocating void that I can’t escape. It’s too frigid for me to bear, and it's consuming every part of me.

"Someone once told me, 'You deserve all the best things. And if you think I'm one of them, then you damn well better believe you deserve me too. I'll always be here for you, whether you want me or not. Always.'"

Yes, that's exactly what I need from you! I want you to hold me so tightly, like you’re afraid to lose me. I want you to stand right in front of me, blocking out the world, making sure no one else can intrude. I want your gaze to be so intense, as if I'm the sole person in this universe that matters to you. I want you to claim me, to make me yours in every way, to control and possess me. I want you—only you, entirely and completely.

People don’t love me; I’m unlovable. They run away, and honestly, I prefer it that way. Their departure doesn’t soften the jagged shards of my heart—it only sharpens them. Their absence keeps my wounds raw and exposed, and I revel in the pain because it’s the only thing that feels real.

I like to hold hands or when someone initiates it. It feel like there is someone with you. Neither ahead, competing with you nor behind, pushing you to go ahead. That feeling of holding hand brings comfort to me.

My scars aren’t physical. They’re the kind that gnaw at your soul, hidden beneath a façade of normalcy

Every part of me is consumed by you, and still, you remain unreachable.