Beautiful and Inspiring Stuff

do people expect you to get better when they say "don't be sad " THAT DOESNT SOLVE NOTHING THAT DOESNT DO ANYTHING . WHEN YOU WANT TO CRY ON THEOR SHOULDER THEN THAT IS STRANGE WHEN YOU WANT TO LET YOUR EMOTIONS JUST RUN FREE THEN THAT IS WEIRD . SO YEAH I AM EXPECTED TO SMILE AND LOOK HAPPY AFTER THAT RIGHT HUH . NO NO NO I WONT BE HAPPY I WONT BE HAPPY AT ALL

It’s the interactions.

The smile.

The way their voice changes with you.

The little phrases that would sound strange to anyone else,

but somehow feel natural between the two of you.

The unique way they touch you.

Their laugh.

The inside jokes.

The way they kiss you,

and the way it tastes.

The way they smell when they hug you.

The way they react to surprises,

or the quiet shift in them when they’re sad.

The intimate moments.

It’s all the little things

that seem so small while they’re happening,

but become the biggest things to lose

They say "sorry"

They don't mean it

Not even one bit

Cause they don't care

I can bear

With this , right?

With all the fake stuff

I can act tuff

I can bottle it up

I can bear

With this, right?

Wrong I ain't bright

I am so close to breaking

When I do i am crying

I need to cry for you to notice

You can't focus

On the fact that you are wrong

I can bear for so long

So I ain't asking for much

Not a bunch

Just try to even act

I know that your schedule is packed

But please at least act

I can not bear

With this

Each day I live is an act of worship to everyone and everything that I love.

21/06/26

Shrine.

the way the night must feel happy

when the stars decide to stay.

There is something about you

that quiets the chaos inside me

without even trying.

I look into your eyes

and the world no longer feels lost,

as if my soul finally remembered

where it belongs.

You are my definition of perfection,

not because you are flawless

but because even your imperfections

feel exactly right to my heart.

If anyone ever asked me what it feels like

to find a home within a person,

I would only have to speak about you.

Casting flame unto me

Smoldering matter pops and crackles

Sputtering and spitting fireflies

Glowing embers dance in your face

Casting constellations

Celestial freckles across your nose

Breathing sparks into the air

I burn and watch in sweet repose

They float and flutter in your hair

Casting split ends into light

A halo of thistles

Glinting in the night

Love, Your Bonfire

they sit beside you

and still manage to make the silence louder.

She was winter in human form,

and I,

fool that I am,

mistook frostbite for affection.

My heart once knew the shape of home,

knew the rhythm of belonging,

but love…

love made me kneel in a collapsing temple

and call it sacred.

We were broken before we began,

two fractures pretending to be whole,

ceilings caving in

while we hoped otherwise,

through the dust of our own decay.

Yet still,

I stayed.

Because even a dying fire

feels like warmth

to a man who has never known the sun.

But I was never enough to keep her.

She scattered herself into other nights,

let others trace constellations on her skin,

then returned to me,

with hands that smelled like absence,

and told me my pain

was an overreaction.

As though my heart

wasn’t bleeding in plain sight.

As though betrayal

was just another word

for insecurity.

She made me disappear slowly,

not all at once,

no, that would have been mercy...

but piece by piece,

until I became

a shadow

of a memory

she barely acknowledged.

I was only real

when she needed something.

A voice to soothe her storms,

a body to fill her emptiness,

a name she could whisper

when everyone else had left,

a compass navigating her,

through the storm of life.

And when she was full again,

I was discarded like a used prayer,

left unanswered

on the floor of her indifference.

I reached for her,

not desperately,

just enough to say

I'm still here.

But only silence answered me;

like a grave that had already closed.

Now my heart...

it doesn’t break anymore.

It shatters in slow motion,

over and over,

a ritual of quiet destruction

no one ever sees.

I try to gather what’s left,

but the pieces don’t fit,

they remember her shape too well.

And every time I try to heal,

I re-open

what she never intended to close.

There is no escape from this...

not in sleep,

not in noise,

not in the arms of distraction.

Just an endless echo of her absence

carved into everything I am.

And beneath it all,

like a curse I can’t outrun,

a truth I wish was a lie

keeps whispering through the wreckage;

you were never enough.

Not then.

Not now.

Not ever.

So many people around me,

But no one to actually talk to,

About the pain that I carry heavily within,

It becomes an effort to try to smile,

Feeling that my heart will always call for you,

I am counting time for the moment to finally arrive,

For me to be forever in your arms,

As you are my home...

©️fallencalliope

My Strength, In Small Paws🐾

You’re fighting. So am I.