My Diary

  My verses are not balm, but gasoline poured onto the embers of my soul, Sealing the wounds, keeping the fire burning, a pyre of pain and passion. I write to excavate the scars, to expose the raw nerves, To salt the wounds, to keep the memory of hurt alive, a ghastly, glowing ember. I write to anchor the pain, to tether it to the bone, To make it mine, to make it scream, to make it sing. Pain is my mother tongue, silence my suffocating womb, Between scream and hush, I birthed myself, a stillborn soul reborn. If I let the wound heal, I'll lose the fire that forges me, The flame that tempers my edges, that makes me sharp, that makes me cut. I'll be a husk, a shadow, a whisper of what I was, A forgotten scream, a muted whisper, a silenced song. I keep the wound raw, a festering, pulsing heart, A reminder of my pulse, of my existence, of my defiance. These poems are not bandages, they're battle scars, Proof that I was here, that I fought, that ...

You're waiting for me to end it, thinking I'll fade away like a worn-out trend. But I'm not going down without a fight, without making you face the mess you've bent. You've taken, taken, taken all this while, leaving me a shadow of the love we once did learn. You think I'll settle for scraps, for leftovers of your love? No, not this time, I'm worth more, I'm worth the whole damn thing. I'm counting the seconds, waiting for the day, you'll realize what you've wasted, what you've thrown away. You'll see my worth, but it'll be too late, gone astray, I'll be long gone,  Moving on. This isn't love, but a mere joke for you, a pathetic attempt to hold on, with hollow words, untrue. You should be ashamed, you should be disgusted, at the man you've become, at the love you've rusted. I deserve the real thing, not watered-down, half-hearted, broken wings, not a love that's conditional , not a love that stings . I deserve ...

I'm lost in the labyrinth of your absense,  A prisoner of love , in perpetual resistance . Every fiber of my being screams to let go, Yet, I'm bound to the memories,  the whispers, the glow.  The war within me rages,  a never-ending fight,  Between the heart that holds on and the soul that's tired of the fight.  I'm torn between the comfort of your presence and the agony of your distance,  A constant tug-of-war,  a heartbreaking existence.  Your love is a double-edged sword ,  it cuts so deep,  A bittersweet reminder of what I'll never keep.  I'm trapped in this limbo ,  where love and pain entwine,  A never-ending cycle,  a heart that's forever aligned.  If I let go, I'll lose the essence of you,  The memories, the laughter, the tears,  the truth.  I'll move on, but the feelings will fade,  Leaving behind a hollow space,  an emptiness that's never staid.  And if you come back,...

I cling to you like a lifeline worn, Every fiber strained, my heart forlorn. The tighter I grip, the more I bleed, The pain is suffocating, my soul freed. With every breath, I feel myself slip, Into the abyss of love, where I lose my grip. I'm torn apart, yet held together by threads, Of memories, of moments, of the love we've said. My palms are raw, my heart aches too, But still I hold on, for love shines through. In this desperate dance, I'm lost and found, My identity blurred, my love profound.   The rope cuts deep, my soul on fire, I'm consumed by love, my heart's greatest desire. I'd bear the pain, the anguish, the strife, For just one moment, one glance, one touch of life. Is this the price of loving you so true? To lose myself, to fall apart for you? I'll take the risk, I'll bear the pain, For love's sweet agony, I'll remain.

Detachment was  by far the scariest thing about me, Until I met you, and it became the scariest thing for me. I wore armor, impenetrable and cold, Detached from hearts, stories untold. No flinch, no sigh, no second glance, Easy to let go, no lingering dance. Then you walked in, and walls came down, The fortress cracked, my heart renowned. The harder I held, the more I'd bleed, The pain was exquisite, a love so freed. But now I'm shattered, pieces on the floor, Every shard a scream, every breath a chore. You dismantled me, piece by piece, Leaving me hollow, a fragile release. You pushed me to the limit, took me for granted too, A reckoning's coming, and I'll break through. I'll see you in a different light, When I'll lock you out, and end the fight. You'll know the wrath of my indifference cold, When I'm done healing, and my heart's grown old. You'll see the ruin you've made of me, And wish you'd never tested my liberty. And yet, in this d...

  To the one who loved me through my darkest tide, Despite the pain I drowned in,  you stayed beside. I know what I did, by losing you I see, You were too good for me,  and for that,  I'm sorry to be. Betrayed, hurt, with baggage  I could not hide, I dumped it all on you,  yet you didn't sigh. That weight I gave you led to guilt's heavy chain, I fucked up,  blind to how you felt the pain. In youth's fragile years,  I walked through shadows deep, Past wounds taught me to see people in a twisted sleep. I viewed love through lenses clouded by past fears, And in my naivety,  I misjudged all the years. I broke you, thinking I'd spare you more pain, A choice I made,  in my own tangled shame. I see now I was wrong,  blinded by my own strife, In trying to shield you,  I lost the gift of your life. Though maybe I didn't love you in the way you desired, The respect I hold for you is vast,  come what may. You loved me the most, ...

  Every drop of love I gave you was poisoned by your indifference.  I didn't ask for the stars, just a glimpse of sincerity in return for the love I poured out like blood.  But every sacrifice, every tear, every shattered dream was met with contempt, like my love was a weight you'd rather not bear.  I gave you my heart, raw and exposed, and you shredded it like paper.  I didn't expect perfection, just a shred of honesty. But instead, I'm left gasping for air, wondering if love is supposed to feel like suffocation.  Was my love too much, or were you just too gutless to handle its fire?  People crave love, but they're repelled by its intensity. They feast on your heart, your soul, your everything, and when it gets real, they label it "too much" and abandon ship, leaving you to salvage the wreckage of a love that was never truly loved.  I'm left with the splintered remains of my heart, baffled by how someone could beg for love, receive it, and still ...

The bare minimum is an affront,  A slap in the face,  a reminder that you've been settling for scraps.  It's a stark realization that the little you've been given is not just inadequate, but also a reflection of your own worth.  The desperation that comes with being starved of love and attention is a palpable thing, a hunger that gnaws at your very soul. It's a hunger that makes you grasp at anything, no matter how meager, no matter how toxic.  You'll take the crumbs, the leftovers, the silence, and the absence, and you'll call it love. You'll convince yourself that the bare minimum is enough, that it's better than nothing. But deep down, you know it's not. You know that you're being fed lies, that you're being kept in a state of perpetual want. And it's humiliating, this desperation, this neediness. It's a constant reminder that you're not enough, that you're not worthy of more.  But what if you stopped settling?  What if you...

The moment silence becomes deafening You're left creeping into thoughts:  Have they forgotten what they did to you? Have they moved past it?  Is the apology, the guilt, long gone?  In that moment, a silent rage builds inside you.  Yet, there's also a bit of solace, knowing that what is truly meant for you doesn't need to be asked for-it will be given, without interrogation.  It is what it is.