Poems

 I think she believes that I loved her only for the shape of her body, as if affection were a hunger, as if closeness were a theft. How do I explain to her that I fell for the things she herself never noticed? I fell for the nights she stayed awake for me, when the world slept peacefully and she chose exhaustion over silence, choosing my voice over her rest. I fell for the days that meant nothing to anyone else the hours wasted on nonsense, laughter without reason, conversations that solved nothing yet somehow held everything together. I fell for the quiet soldier in her, the one who never announced her strength yet stood beside me every time I collapsed, steady as ground beneath shaking feet. I did not fall gently— gravity forgot its mercy. So hard that even my name slipped from me, so hard that I remembered only hers as if identity itself were negotiable in the presence of someone like her. I signed my heart in her name without asking for ownership, only praying she would never t...

 Eleven eleven, Make a wish. With no second thought, I used to wish for this: To wake up in your bed. to look into those beautiful blue eyes, and let them shush the voices in my head,  let them end all the begs and cries. to caress your cheeks, to kiss your lips– to tell you I love you until it's cliché. But now i've stopped. I've stopped, wishing for that on the spot. It isnt even at the top of my head, and I wish to forget you instead.

What makes you smile every day, Is it the mask that hides decay? A fleeting spark, a hollow gleam, Or the remnants of a broken dream? Is it the sun that burns the sky, Or the thought that someday you will die? Is it laughter carved from pain, Or dancing shadows in the rain? What makes you frown when the dark returns, Is it the silence that always burns? The echoes of words you’ll never say, Or ghosts that follow and never stay? Is it the weight of time on your spine, The taste of rust in an aging wine? Is it the mirror that tells no lies, Or the truth that hides in your weary eyes? Between the smile and the frown you wear, There’s a void that whispers, “Nothing’s fair.” You laugh at dawn, but by dusk you drown, What makes you smile… will make you frown. And in that chasm, cold and deep, Your secrets rot, your shadows creep. The grin you wear is a sharpened blade, And every joy… is a masquerade. So tell me now, before you break, What makes you smile, for heaven’s sake? And when the nigh...